"But I've Been So Cruel To You. We've Been So Cruel To You, And To...Ted, Never Mind Little Nymphadora.

Being an auror meant working unusual and irregular hours and days, and Kingsley wouldn’t change it for a thing. Much of his spare time was now filled with Order business, but he was determined that at least once a week he would try and see his sister and his nephew. The war was important, but not so important that he would toss his family aside for it. His battle injury that had left him near to death had solidified that importance – and it was that injury that made him so scared of Sade increasing her involvement. Kingsley had never truly struggled for words, but he wasn’t sure how to express to his sister how scared he was of losing her to the Death Eaters. And what would happen to Jasper without his mother?

Shooting his sister a sheepish smile at her surprise, Kingsley threw himself down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “I’ll knock more than once next time, sorry. I probably should’ve sent an owl too,” he said, kicking his shoes off to make himself comfortable. “Not so urgent that I can’t wait for the kettle. I’d be glad of a cup of tea, I don’t mind making it if you want to stay sat down.”

A long day rounded up with a seamless bedtime for Jasper and a cup of tea had become the norm for Sade in recent months. While other twenty-seven year olds were thankful for a wild night, Sade's evenings were made with a book and a warm beverage. Evidently, her intention to be a bit more independent as Jasper grew had faltered slightly, but Sade wouldn't change it for the world. Sade was just about to embark on a new chapter, to engrossed in her book to notice a brief knock at the door. Sade jumped slightly in surprise as her brother made his way into her living room.

"Merlin, Kings." Sade exclaimed in surprise, although her tone remained quiet. "Unexpected visits are always welcome, but perhaps a louder knock next time." She teased, setting her book down on her coffee table. "Too urgent for a cup of tea? Or can it wait until the kettle brews?"

The longer this woman kept him stood here, throwing accusations around in his place of employment, the angrier Fenrir was getting. His fury was simmering under his skin, his wolf aching to get at the woman in front of him. Part of Fenrir knew that if he did anything to this woman then it would ruin any chance of Remus ever joining a werewolf pack, but the other part of him wanted to see if Remus would see the difference that it made when one had another werewolf alongside at the full moon. "I'll do what I want. Keep your warnings to yourself, you don't scare me girl," he sneered at her, before turning and walking back into the kitchen.

Aurora knew, in the pit of her stomach, that this wasn't the smartest idea, but the love she had for Remus, was stronger than standing in the back. She would fiercely protective of those she loved. Though, she could agree, Remus needed to accept who he was fully to gain better control, but that wasn't something she would admit to it. There had to be other werewolves that could help. "You act like you'd have the opportunity to even do so." She snorts. "I'm sorry, you mean where you prey on innocent children that can't fight back. How manly of you." She sneers, eyes narrowing at him. "I might be too old for your liking." The witch took a step back. "Stay away from him." She warns.

Fenrir knew the importance of showing his face, and he would normally do it without complaint - although his mood would vary depending on the company. Not only did his appearances solidify his position as someone useful to the cause, regardless of whether the Dark Lord deemed him worthy to be marked, but he was a leader of a growing pack of magical beasts and their influence would steadily grow if everything went to plan. Still, following on from them making their relationship official, Fenrir could think of little else as important as spending time with Pandora. "I know you do...and I have so many creative ways to keep you warm my darling," he said with a smirk, his hands settling on her hips as he held her up with ease.

Frowning briefly at the mention of Bellatrix, Fenrir considered the initial impact that the magic of the clock had. "Will she be able to use it to see the secret I revealed? Bellatrix's interest is a dangerous thing to play with. If you give her the artefact, she may start pressing for more."

Pandora hated those stuffy gala's and functions she was expected to go to because of her last name. She did not care for the people, one that did not like crowded places and overstimulation. Mostly whey she kept to herself. The two of them going away was true to who they were and she wouldn't let anyone take that away from her. Octavius seemed fine with her not there, though she didn't tell him the whole truth of what she was doing. "I like when you keep me warm." A squeaks errupts from her lips when he turns to pick her up, legs and arms wrapping around their respective areas. A satisfied smile forms on her lips, eyes meeting. "I do like this way better." She always felt safe in his arms. "And I like the warmth that comes off you.

She trusted Fenrir, and knew he would be honest with her. "Bellatrix is interested in the clock. I've got it to work, our magic is bound around it and will have no effect on us. Do I give it to her?"

It was almost too good. The woman had barely needed any pushing at all before she exploded off a cliff edge in fury, and Regulus couldn't hold back his smirk. It was so easy, and he had hardly a care in the world for the other patrons in the store as he continued poking the angry bear. "Oh, daddy dearest has lots of good ideas...it's hard to listen to him though when his dulcet tones are drowned out by my mother's shrill shrieking. Its a wonder I still have eardrums at all," he mused nonchalantly. "Your mother gave you 'rude' as a middle name? She must hate you."

Adrenaline was thrumming through his veins as she shoved him, and he shot her a shit-eating grin as she screamed, entirely unbothered by her sudden increase in volume. "Yes, you should be polite. You're bothering the other patrons with your shrieking," he said smoothly, continuing to pile random potions ingredients in his basket. With a keen eye, he watched what she picked up and as she walked away, Regulus pulled his wand out and subtly cast a vanishing spell on the vial in her hand. The rest of the vials were his, and he cast a quick protection spell over the basket to prevent her from magically stealing one from him.

She was beyond annoyed. All Georgette wanted was to go to the Apothecary, get some ingredients then go back to her safe space. This interaction is precisely why she didn't go out. Little pricks who thought they were better than everyone else roaming around causing trouble for no good reason. All she wanted was something to help with her hands. That's it. And the asshole had to be an asshole. She couldn't let him get away with it. It wasn't in her nature.

"Obviously your mother was wrong but your father had some great ideas. You should really listen to him more. Believe me. I'm nowhere in the middle. Not an ounce of me thinks you're the 'best boy,'" she scoffed. "I'm in father's camp." Him telling her she was rude like it was supposed to bother her was laughable. She lived to be rude. "Rude is my middle name and I'm not about to give it up now. Especially for the likes of you."

As he elbowed her, Georgette's anger seethed. She pushed him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? I hadn't laid a finger on you no matter how much I wanted to. And you're telling me to be polite while you elbow me?! Fuck you!" she screamed. She saw him shoveling vile after vile into his basket. "You bloody bastard." She looked at the shelf they had been at. He hadn't gotten everything. She picked up one of the viles she needed and stormed past him headed to get another for her potion, shoulder checking him as she walked by.

REGULUS BLACK

Regulus didn't want to feel this seemingly unending bitterness towards his brother. He didn't want to poke and prod at Sirius, not when he still secretly wanted his older brother's approval - though he knew he would never truly receive it. It seemed that no matter what he did, he would never make anyone happy - including himself. Sirius' silence would've concerned Regulus another time, and he was sure that when he returned home he would dwell on what it all meant, but for now Reg chose to sit in the awkwardness of the atmosphere between them. "And why would I have more run ins with the auror, brother? What are you accusing me of?" Regulus challenged, his gaze stony and hard.

"And take the rest of the family history with it? It's our story, Sirius, whether you like it or not," Reg shrugged. He wasn't liking it so much these days, but he still found the history on the tapestry interesting. He wondered how many of their ancestors had doubts like he did, buried deep inside. "If you're insistent that you aren't going to take it, there's little point in you being here and waiting for the aurors to deem us worthy of their time. You might as well go," he suggested, hoping to rid himself of this awkwardness.

Sirius was glad to be facing away as his brother spoke, a frown falling onto his face before he could control his expression. It seemed impossible that he had always been such a failure, a remarkable disappointment to his parents, and yet somehow they'd been using him as a bar to reach to. He felt guilt twist in his stomach despite all the years he'd spent trying to convince himself that his parents' behaviors were no fault of his own. It was harder to keep that belief up when he heard the bitterness in Regulus's tone. He was silent a beat too long, completely unsure what to say, and Regulus filled the silence with talk of the aurors. "I don't know," he shrugged, happy to move onto a new subject. "I'm sure you have a lot more run ins with them than I do." Working in the pub and keeping a relatively straight life meant most of his run ins with aurors were just them picking up people who were drunk and dangerous.

"She should have burned it down," he muttered, frowning to himself. Sirius was almost surprised the tapestry was still standing, sure it must just be a constant reminder of all the disappointments the Black family was starting to gather; his betrayal just the most recent. "Maybe it has both of our names on it or something," he sighed, lolling back in the chair again. "Or someone died and left us something." Though he couldn't think of many family members who would leave them both something. Just as he thought it the door swung open and Sirius went back to lolling lazily in the chair - the perfect image of unbothered.

Kingsley had been out on investigation work when he'd received an urgent summons to a sleepy muggle village in the Yorkshire Dales that was now the site of a major crime scene. "The obliviators have been called," finished off the message, and with a sigh Kingsley abandoned the trail he'd been following and apparated to just outside of the village. The Dark Mark was high in the sky and must have been visible for miles, which led to a countless number of muggles who's memories needed wiping - never mind the victims of whatever Death Eater had decided to use unknowing muggles as their playthings.

Moving through the carnage, Kingsley joined in the bustling groups of ministry workers who were slowly lowering the floating muggles. He joined in the work of getting the muggles down, but whilst he did so he quickly and harmlessly used legilimency to see if the Death Eater at fault happened to be unmasked in any of their confused memories. It wasn't something he would do on a magical being, but if he interviewed any of these muggles all he would get back was confusion and nonsense. Sometimes, needs must.

Just as he raised his wand to return another muggle back to the ground, a shrill voice broke his concentration and Kingsley drew a sharp breath. "Lestrange...always a pleasure," he said, not shying away from her closeness. He would not be intimidated by this woman. "Oh, and they were so inappropriate...you can't blame me for continuing to hold those against you now, can you?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "As the auror in charge here, I must insist that if you are questioning any muggles that I am present...just to ensure good practice is being followed," he said, a firmness in his tone that confirmed he would not be swayed. "This is an active auror investigation, and certain processes must be followed especially where muggles are involved. I'm sure you understand, you're a reasonable woman."

Starter for: Kingsley Shacklebolt @battle-scvrs Where: a Muggle village, attended by Aurors and the Department of Magical Accidents & Catastrophes When: the middle of the day

As a Senior Minister, Bellatrix did not have to go out on active duties these days. But sometimes she inserted herself into the opportunity like a silver dagger slashing pretty pink flesh; wilfully and dishonourably.

So here she stood, the picture of elegance at a scene of terrible magical disarray. Muggles were floating around like inflated toys, caught in trees and windows and Merlin knew what else. Frankly, she couldn't care less. But her employer did care - and so did the Dark Lord. Aurors had been summoned, for her department had suspected foul play at the hands of Death Eaters.

The Dark Mark shining over the village post office did also slightly give the game away. That wasn't supposed to be there. Bellatrix now stood before it, a look of utter fury ripping her expression in two as she stared up at it and wondered which of her idiot allies had been so stupid to forget the most basic of commands. Eyes expanding in the sallow green haze, her hair whipped around her like streaming black ribbons, nails clenching into the palms of her hands. She was here to make this incident disappear from the Ministry's radar, but the Dark Mark made that work impossible.

Turning away, she headed forcefully towards the village square. She would rip the culprit's identify from one of these vile muggles' minds. That was the only thought in her head, until her sight fell upon Kingsley Shacklebolt and she smiled a smile of avaricious yearning.

"Hello Kingsley, my old friend." Stepping beside him, she stood too close for comfort and delicately brushed some non-existent dust from his cloak. Her eyes lingered on his midriff, where she knew he must harbour a sumptuous scar slashed by her own wand. Oh, how she'd love to see it.... Lips twitching with the involuntarily thirst for it, she pressed them into a curve and looked up into his expression. "You don't still hold a grudge against me, do you? For those inappropriate conversations at Hogwarts?" With a tsk, she stepped back and waved her fingers towards the Dark Mark. True anger filled her expression once more and she channelled the emotion into a new purpose. "Whoever is responsible for that must be caught and punished. You will have your perpetrator when I've finished questioning these muggles."

— ‘ the hunter’s moon is shining, i’m running with the wolves tonight . . . ’

𓈒　　˙　　⊹　　‧　　☾　　. 　 　 ˚ 　 　 ⁺ 　 𓂂 　 ֗ 　

As soon as it was evident that Lucius was not going to leave her be, Cassandra set her book down carefully. "That's still a branch of healing, Lucius," she said matter-of-factly, before she offered him a smile. "Congratulations on your impending arrival. How many weeks along is she? Has the first trimester been difficult?"

Lucius had seen the witch and there were a million questions that popped in his head when it came to his wife's pregnancy. He took no hesitation sitting down across from her, leaning back in his chair. "I do not coming to ask about healing. I need to know about pregnancy and what to expect in the second trimester." He loved Narcissa, but her mood swings, he wasn't certain he'd make it to their baby being born.

Alecto's shuffling betrayed her discomfort, regardless of the lack of expression on her face. Fenrir was no fan of the woman in front of him, but he wasn't entirely heartless and he didn't want to see a heavily pregnant woman sit in discomfort in his home. "The couch is softer if you want to swap. Or I have some duck feather cushions that I can offer you," he said, offering them as a truce between them. "You won't find it to be necessary, Carrow. Yes, we can be done with that topic."

Fenrir tried not to get involved with the Scottish werewolves where possible. Managing his own pack was enough work without being dragged into the internal politics of another pack - never mind that when two werewolf alphas in the same room usually led to vicious fights. But to hear that Angus had wandering hands...Fenrir wanted to apparate to Scotland and rip those hands off. It was unthinkable to him that the leader of a pack should behave in such a way. "If you were to want to depose Angus in the future, or if you wanted to teach him a lesson...I would offer my assistance," Fenrir said carefully. "I will save that favour for the future."