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Storm Clouds - Drabble
This was the kind of day Bellatrix adored. Gray like the ocean in winter — cold and unforgiving. She stood out on such days. Winds played at her skirts, ivory skin contrasting against black cloth which sucked all the light out of the world, her posture straightened as if she commanded them herself. Mistress of the brutish and wild. She could crush anything those days — today. Would Andy be one of them? Behind the manor, clouds swirled, threatening to tear themselves open and unleash hell.All who enter here perish. Go no further… And for a few moments Andy stood rooted to her spot. Just outside the black iron gate whose spires stretched up towards the stormy sky. Everything around this place sent chills through her body. Intricate stone architecture, the prickly, nearly-naked branches of azalea bushes preparing to hibernate, family crest arranged with perfectly shaped stones on the pathway ahead. She’d once called this place home. This place…this house…it now brought her nothing but dread. But she had to enter. There was something she had to do. It was an acidic weight burning a hole in the pit of her stomach. Saliva built up by the root of her tongue, instantly swallowed to soothe a dry throat. A nervous thumb played with the shiny new accessory on her left ring finger, perhaps a will of her subconscious as it sought some sort of refuge in the dangerous task ahead. She could smell the moisture in the air as she took a long, drawn out breath. Yes. Today was a Bellatrix day indeed. A combustible combination of her father’s resilience and her Aunt Walburga’s fanaticism to all things traditional. But it wasn’t her wrath that Andy feared as she made her first steps down that familiar cobblestone path. It wasn’t her father’s scorn either. It was the look in the little one’s eyes. It was the disappointment and the finality in Cissy’s kind, transparent gaze that Andy knew would cut her worst of all. The mere thought of it made her stop. Over her shoulder she glanced. There was still time to run, time to just walk away and not have to see that, but then a snap of chilling wind came at her like a slap to the face. Carry on. She must carry on. You could write a letter, Dromeda. Save yourself the trouble. They don’t deserve your decency. Not anymore… Ted was sweet. Ted was right. But Ted didn’t know her family. Ted didn’t know that if she didn’t face them with her head held high, they’d simply forget about her. Maybe she’d appear in their dreams here and there, but if she simply disappeared, her line in the sand would never be seen. Cygnus Black may have not had any sons, but damn it all if Andy wasn’t set on showing him some strength despite how her bones rattled inside. And as her hand reached out, digits curled around the weathered knocker, she announced her presence with there large bangs. ”Mistress Andromeda! Oh the master has been worried sick about you. Yes he has. He has…oh…” Reflecting the candelabra’s light, Andy’s ring caught the elf’s eye. The poor thing was beside himself, hands wobbling all about. He truly didn’t know what to do. Andromeda knelt down and calmed him with a soothing touch all while looking over her shoulder to catch a final glimpse of the outside. Another swallow. Another reminder that her sister’s elements controlled the day. Yet as the heavy door began to swing closed, off on the horizon a beam of light was beginning to pierce through the clouds. It was fragile at first, but rapidly flourished, shining brilliantly like Narcissa’s hair. Suddenly Andy was calm, certain that she must continue in what she set out to do. Her focus returned to the elf and she asked if he could gather her father and sisters in the drawing room. “There’s something I have to discuss with them…”
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