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Apr 16, 2021 7:52 AM
you had me at "let's burn down wizarding britain"
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"Which of our reported actions has pleased you the most thus far?"

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She shivers a bit, wiggling subtly. "Hard to pick just one... Though that Wizengamot member you tore to bloody pieces was the first I heard of, and it's remained rather fascinating. The papers didn't show anything other than blood splatter, sadly."

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"Ah, yes. That would have been Fenrir Greyback. He is quite understandably upset by the legislation around the werewolf registry and the persistent tendency to treat him and those like him as having no sort of human intelligence or worth at all."

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"An eminently reasonable complaint."

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"Indeed. Though as to your complaint about the lack of descriptive pictures, blood spatters were all that was left. Whether the man was atomized or merely eaten, Greyback declined to specify."

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She laughs. "Can't argue with that. Though the tabloids might appreciate some more dramatic fodder."

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"The movement is young, yet."

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"A good point."

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"What sort of dramatic fodder would you suggest?"

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"Well... The reported targets so far have been obstacles, certainly, but no one so notable they'd have significant defenses - or would ignite a major uproar alone. Perhaps, though, a prominent wizarding family, known as the bedrock of many a political campaign - never politicians themselves, but the people choosing the politicians. Traditionalist, ancient, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, connected with everyone... And one by one, all their vaunted security measures failing, every adult member dead in their homes - rather gruesomely torn apart, perhaps. Bodies left for the tabloids to gawk at. Maybe a mysterious disappearance to spice things up - followed by the body's discovery sooner or later, of course. And all the family's children so tragically orphaned, left with fortune and political power in their young hands..."

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She tilts her head. "Dismantling such a confluence of wards would be no mean feat... Though certainly attention-getting."

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"It's a bit easier if they give you a key, don't you think?"

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"It would be. Do you wish to make that your audition?"

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She hums, thoughtfully. "Well... Depends on how much you want to spread it out, I suppose, and if you'd rather my audition be a bribe or a test... There are eighteen adults with the Black name, spread across quite a few households." She takes a sip of her wine, grinning at the Dark Lady. "Hitting them all at once would be very shocking, though then there'd be no slow build of fear for the last to die..."

"Of course, you could give me just about any target, if you'd rather I save my more personal projects for later. Perhaps some pretty girl for my first, even - I'm rather afraid I got my looks through my mother's family."

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"Is that your taste?"

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"Yes."

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"One of those to start then, as I find that I like you. Perhaps... one of your mother's cousins writes for the Prophet, does she not? Wrote a nasty little article about the corrupting influence of Muggle fashion the other week."

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That startles a little laugh out of her - which doesn't really hide how her pupils widen a bit.

"I know the one."

Said cousin is closer to Bellatrix's age than her mother's - and looks enough like Bellatrix that they get frequent comments about it, jokes about swapping places.

"Any requests?"

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"Something newsworthy. And don't get caught. I will be wanting to... take a full report after."

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Small shiver. "I'll be sure to impress, then."

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"And I suppose you will need to know how to cast the mark, as well... If you have finished eating?"

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One last sip, and: "I have."

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Outside, then.

She draws her wand, long and light-colored. "The motion is thus," she demonstrates. "And the incantation is Flammentre."

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Hers, then - rather notably long, a dark ruddy wood, carved with twisting vines.

Copying the motion perfectly, pronunciation exact: "Flammentre."

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The snake and sun erupts from her wand.

"Very good."

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