The pandemic has screwed my sense of time. Add in homework and crap weather, this update is a week late. To all the new people, hi. To all the old people, thank you for sticking around. Character death, mentions of torture, and all that.
To plug a friend (sorry G this is so late), but if you guys want a cool crossover with OUAT and Twilight, check out 'Bella Donna' by my friend, GaybeTheEnBoy
OoSaM
Calli rubbed her stomach subconsciously. She and Rayna walked side by side through a garden almost as magnificent as Narcissa's. It was odd, in Calli's mind, to be there. The last thing she remembered was a glint of a knife, a shrouded Rookwood in the trees, and Bella. All she could feel was pain, and all she heard was silence. Calli's arm brushed against a rose and recoiled. It was so cold, like ice, but it was soft, and the paradox made Calli stop. She examined the flower closely, sniffing it and inspecting it like it held the secret to life- death – and Rayna put a hand on her shoulder.
"Come. We do not have time to literally stop and smell the roses."
"Why?" Calli asked. "I'm dead, aren't I?"
"Not quite."
Calli frowned and glanced over her shoulder. "You said I was in the afterlife," she said.
"I did, but I never said you were dead."
"What?"
Rayna tugged Calli away from the flowers to a bench that seemingly materialized out of nowhere. The two sat down, and Calli watched the garden transform into a lake. It was so dark, unusually still, and it gave Calli goosebumps just by looking at it. The silence stretched between them until Rayna broke out into tears. Calli startled. She hesitated to touch Rayna, hands hovering in the air, so she settled on moving closer to her side.
"Mum? What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"Please forgive me," Rayna said, sniffing. "But- this was the hardest thing to prepare for, and though I knew it was coming, I still was caught off guard by it. Waiting here, hoping you live to see another day, was like holding my breath. I hated it."
"Wait, what? You've been here? For how long?"
"Oh, duck, maybe when you first arrived at Hogwarts?" Rayna guessed. "Somewhere around that time."
"Seriously?"
"Indeed. I have watched you grow up. I cried when you cried, laughed when you laughed, and questioned the purpose of your connection to Bellatrix. Damned witch."
Calli found herself laughing as she brushed her mother's tears from her cheeks. "Bellatrix is not so bad," she said.
"Oh, please," Rayna huffed. "That woman is the worst. As is Cissy and Tom and all of them. But none more so than you."
"Me!?"
"Yes, you! I swear you are such a bad influence. Bloody psychopath."
"Bit hypocritical, don't you think?" Calli teased.
"Me? No. Never. Your father was the Dark Lord."
"You are so full of it."
Rayna winked and gently elbowed her in the side. Calli grunted and grabbed at her hip. Rayna clicked her tongue and shook her head.
"When I saw you go down, I knew this was it. That dagger reeked of poison all the way up here."
"Up?"
"Figure of speech. We are neither up nor down, Heaven or Hell. This is what some people like to call a resting place. Not the eternal kind, however."
"Where were you then? When you first died?"
Rayna hummed and leaned back against the bench. She squinted at the lake and said, "In there."
"What?"
"In there. That lake holds the souls of millions and millions of people, all swimming around like demented, ethereal fish."
"You were in the lake?"
"I was. Your grandmother is there. As are a few others we lost during the First War."
"Are- are Jean and Dan-
"No."
"Oh."
Rayna grinned and turned her head. "They are not there because they have their own journeys to complete," she said.
"You know I hate cryptic bull- I mean, crap."
"Now you correct yourself?"
"Sorry. This is a bit weird, you know? The last time I saw you… I was a kid."
"And you still are in my mind. Just because you have a bit of height on you does not make you any less my kid than if you had one of your own."
Calli lowered her head and stared at the red scar on her stomach. Rayna took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around Calli.
"Tell me what I missed?" she asked.
"I thought you saw everything?"
"Tell me anyway."
Sirius wheezed as he got back to his feet. Neville worked out his anger hours ago. When he sat down, he expected something to happen, but nothing other than Bellatrix staring at the wall had occurred. If anything, the silence grew more torturous for him, more so than Sirius. He was tempted to leave, but he found himself sitting on the other end of the couch, subconsciously watching Bellatrix. She drank a glass of wine, a rare occurrence, and she had a vacant look in her eyes that sent shivers down Neville's spine. Her smiles were forced, her laughter hollow, and outside of when she first arrived, she hadn't said a single word. Across the room, Sirius glared at them from his semi-swollen right eye. He had his arm wrapped around his waist, helping him stay upright, and whatever Narcissa did kept him from being able to shift. He was like a rabid dog, growling, and twitching, rattling the chains at his ankle to be obnoxious. Bellatrix turned her head.
"Sirius, whose plan was it to kidnap Augusta?" she asked.
"As if I'd tell you!"
"I see. So, the Headmaster signed off on it. Why?"
Sirius spat in her general direction. She wasn't fazed.
"You made a comment toward Augusta that I would like clarification on if you would be so kind," she said sarcastically.
"Screw you!"
"What family did the Headmaster eradicate?" she asked.
Sirius was clearly caught off guard by the question. He frowned and said, "That's what you want to know?"
"It is what I asked, yes."
Sirius grunted. Bellatrix sighed and pointed her finger at the chain around Sirius' ankle. She warned Neville that Sirius spent time in Azkaban. Simple torture would not affect him, but she was a Black. As was he. And their punishments were never 'simple.' For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, but her finger never wavered. She held it steady, and soon, the chain began to turn colors. Sirius grimaced and visibly bit through his lip to keep from screaming. Bellatrix took a sip of wine and curled her finger. The color change happened so rapidly that Sirius yelped and tried to tug his ankle away. He pulled at his pants legs, his foot, but the chain refused to budge. It started to smoke, and the smell of burning flesh filled the room.
"The Forthright Family!" he screamed.
Bellatrix canceled the spell, and the chain slowly cooled. Sirius whimpered and dropped down to the floor. She took another sip of her wine and gave him a moment to collect himself. That was a punishment their grandfather liked to pull on them when he felt they were too 'uncouth' for the Black family name. He'd tie their hands with shackles and turn up the heat until he deemed the lesson learned.
"What about the Forthright family?" she asked.
"I don't know," he whined. "All I know is that he let it slip when we got those documents from Gringotts. He muttered that he thought he got rid of them all. He seemed especially focused on disproving the bloodline and went to the Department of Mysteries that same day."
"Which part?" she asked.
"Hall of Prophecy," he whispered tiredly.
Neville twitched when the glass in Bellatrix's hand snapped in half. Wine poured down her wrist as she got to her feet. Sirius flinched instinctively, but Bellatrix bypassed him and pushed open the door. Neville heard her whisper something before she came back and sat down. Her bare feet danced over the broken glass and came away unscathed. She propped her head on the arm of the couch and chuckled. The scary part was that Neville knew that chuckle. He'd heard so many times before and reflexively twisted away from her body.
"Did you know that Calliope is dead?" she asked.
Sirius' head snapped up.
"What do you mean she's dead?" he hissed.
"How is this confusing you, cousin? Calliope no longer breathes. She rests in eternal slumber. She's dead," Bellatrix said in a clipped tone.
Sirius started laughing. He rolled on the floor until he started coughing. Bellatrix stalked over to him and stood over his body.
"What? Come to finally put me out of my misery?" he taunted.
"No," Bellatrix said. "I am saving my rage, my anger, and my fury for a special occasion. Three, actually, but no, not you. You mean absolutely nothing to me. You are a waste of my time, space, energy, and magic. Neville nor I will be the one to end your role in this ridiculous War."
With that, the door opened. Severus strolled in with his hands behind his back and a blank look in his eyes. Neville blinked between the two. He suddenly felt like he didn't belong, and Bellatrix snapped her fingers at him, pointing at the door. Neville rushed from the room and ran right into Luna. She picked up his hands, inspected his bloodied and bruised knuckles, and hummed.
"I have some salve for that."
"Where are the others?" he asked.
"Out. Come. Dragon and I need a third party for an errand."
"An errand?"
Luna smiled and turned on her heel. "Of course," she threw over her shoulder, "what else would you call an ambush?"
Severus stood in front of Sirius. He had a million things to say to the literal mutt at his feet, but his anger was not wholly reserved for Sirius. Severus removed his hands to reveal two tiny daggers. He kicked Sirius onto his back and dropped down on top of him. He jammed one knife into Sirius' shoulder before taking it out. He repeated the action over Sirius' torso, arms, and sides, leaving the area around his heart clear. Sirius' screams turned into pained groans, and Severus suddenly felt exhausted. He counted the number of holes left behind.
47.
47 minutes he huddled in the corner of a broom closet near the Quidditch pitch.
47 minutes he shivered, alone, and fought off small snakes and spiders.
47 minutes before anyone even noticed he was gone.
47 minutes after Lily barely reacted to James and Sirius' prank. Only to tell them they needed to get back inside before the feast.
"You know, they say holding a grudge can be unhealthy," Severus mused.
"I wouldn't know," Bellatrix replied.
Severus snorted and took the second knife. He bent down and waited until Sirius' good eye opened. He smiled and plunged it into his throat. He twisted it, watching the life bleed from Sirius' eyes like the blood from his neck.
"Do send the Potters' my greetings," he whispered.
Luna, Draco, and Neville waited patiently in the shadows. Ginny helped Ron down the street toward the apothecary.
"How did you know Molly would run out of lavender?" Neville whispered.
"Neville, how long have you known Luna?" Draco asked.
"Fair point. But why would she send them? What about Percy? Arthur? Herself?"
"Why does Molly do half the things she does?"
Luna rolled her eyes at the two and counted under her breath. She really didn't want to put the apothecary at risk just in case something went wrong, so she wanted to wait until Ginny and Ron crossed in front of the Quidditch shop. Draco wasn't pleased, but she reminded him that he got most of his stuff from Ireland anyway. The conversation became mute after that. As soon as the two siblings crossed that invisible line in Luna's mind, she smiled and shot a bat-bogey hex at Ginny. The girl shrieked and dropped Ron on the ground.
"Ow, fuck!" Ron shouted.
Draco snorted and, as Ginny took a step forward, cast a hex at her shoes. She yelped and lost her balance, falling on top of Ron. Her shoes remained in place on the concrete. Other people in the alley kept their heads down and kept walking. Apparently, there'd been so much drama the last few days that they prefer not to get involved again.
"Oh. I have an idea," Neville murmured.
"By all means. This is but a fun outing between friends," Luna teased.
Neville pointed at Ginny first but smiled and changed his aim to Ron. A flick of his wrist and Ron was bald. Luna and Draco gasped.
"That is not a good look on him," Draco mused.
"No, but I wonder…" Neville cast the same hex at Ginny. "Yep. Looks worse on her."
Ginny screamed and tried to hide her hair, but she drove her elbow into Ron's nose in the process. Ron went back down on the ground, holding his face, and the two were a mess of tears, blood, and hair. Luna snickered and walked away with Neville and Draco behind them.
"You know, when you said ambush, I didn't think you meant this," Neville said.
"We've all had a long few days," she said. "I thought we needed a bit of happiness."
"And what better happiness than torturing those two?" Draco asked.
"Killing the Headmaster," he muttered darkly.
Luna and Draco froze, but Neville kept walking. Luna shook off her shock first and looked at Draco.
"I knew he was angry," she said softly. "But this-
"Falls into Calli territory," Draco finished. "The Headmaster has a lot of enemies."
"Imagine how many we don't know about," she said.
Draco had a thoughtful frown cross his face. "Yes," he said. "That is something to consider."
"Uh, oh. I know that look," Luna said.
"Come. We need to talk to someone."
Travers reclined on the bed with a book in his hand. He flipped through the pages idly. At his feet, two piles of money with soot and dirt on them. When the door opened, he batted away the spells aimed for his head and cast his own. Being with Calliope and Bellatrix definitely taught him a few new things, like how to catch your opponent off guard with hexes instead of spells. Once distracted, he cast his usual and watched the two men fall to their knees. Mulciber's wand scattered across the floor while Rookwood's remained within reach. Travers tossed the book at Rookwood's head and grabbed the wand off the floor with a quick lunge.
Mulciber crawled toward his wand, but Travers stomped down on his hand and brought his knee upward, catching Mulciber in the nose. He added a hit to the side of his head for extra measure and picked up the other wand. He snapped them in half and shoved the pieces into his pocket.
"You two have to be a special kind of idiot," he grunted. "To get paid all that money and still sleep in the same fucking safe house. Not to mention, you two bury the damn money under the same goddamn tree you talked about when we worked for You-Know-Who."
"So, what? You gonna kill us now?" Rookwood spat nasally.
"Nope. That'd be a relief for you two. I am not in the business to provide it," Travers murmured distractedly.
His tongue poked out as he re-read the letter that Luna girl sent him by an owl. She was a strange one, but he wasn't going to complain. Satisfied he got the instructions correct, Travers took one of the quills she sent to him, tucked it into the ropes around Mulciber's chest, and patted his cheek.
"Be seeing you soon, mate," he said.
The portkey activated, and Mulciber was gone. Travers turned to Rookwood and shook his head.
"Was the money worth it?" he asked.
Rookwood just glared at him.
"Shame. You know, she was hurt the most by you," he said, tucking the quill in Rookwood's shirt.
"We got tired of working for the brat," Rookwood snapped. "She isn't her mother, Travers."
"You don't say. But need I remind you that working under her mother is how we ended up in Azkaban in the first place? She wasn't imperfect, Rook! If you stopped trying to make her love you long enough to realize that, you might've spared yourself this fate."
Rookwood snarled at the comment but didn't respond. Travers shook his head.
"Your stupidity will come back to bite you in the ass. Probably at the moment you realize you pissed off not one, but all of the Black Sisters, a Seer, a Potions Master, a werewolf, and a man with nothing else to lose," he whispered. "Not to mention the Nacht Hexen. You know, the ones we personally trained? The ones with no impulse control and a desire to prove themselves, even in their leader's death?"
Fear spread through Rookwood's eyes. Travers squeezed his shoulder and smiled widely.
"Be seeing you soon, mate."
Travers appeared in the foyer with the money in hand and the same book tucked under his arm. Lucius cocked an eyebrow at the bags, and Travers passed one over.
"Goblins keep track of all galleons withdrawn from their vaults, right?" he asked.
"Indeed."
"Then I believe we need to make an appointment."