The Drage Residence 3

[Estrella Drage]

Estrella's knees buckled as she was apparated to the bottom of stone steps, the winter chill biting through her weather inadequate house robes. The house was dark, and she did not recognize it for what it was at first. But she remembered the situation as a forcefully muscled arm pulled her up, and walked her up the steps like a reluctant five year old. With a flick of his wand her dad unlocked the door, and led her inside, flicking on the light, which was amazingly powered by electricity. The hallway seemed plain and uninteresting, and nothing clicked for her. But when she took a step into the kitchen, it was a whole other story.

Memories collapsed upon her like a tidal wave, and a forceful one stuck out among all the others. There she was, at the age of five, barely able to see over the counter. It was daytime, she could tell that. Her mom's beautiful face was illuminated byt the window, set with curly dark hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail. She kneaded sugar cookie dough with her hands, while five year old Estrella, standing on a stool, amused herself by cutting the dough with christmas cookie cutters. She remembered her favorite white skirt, which she was wearing this day with a pink edged jean jacket. Her hair fell in ringlets upon her shoulders.

"Those cookies look great, 'strella," Lorelei complimented her, slabbing a star shaped cookie on a stone ovenbrick. Estrella smiled back at her with a comical grin, as many of her teeth had fallen out.
"Thanks, Mommy," she piped cheerily, her voice happy and high pitched. They were lost in the moment, mother and daughter. BUt there was a certain void for Estrella that her mother alone could not fill, and her expression became serious as she cut out the last bit of cookie dough and rolled the scraps into a ball, popping it into her mouth.
"Is Daddy coming home for Christmas, Mommy?" Estrella inquired, her dark eyes wide.
"He might be, 'strella," Lorelei sighed, her blue eyes vacant and sad. "But you know Daddy has work to do in Norway. He keeps everyone safe, and sometimes that means he can't get home on time." Lorelei bit her lip; she had to put on and air of assurance to keep her daughter content, although these days she was unsure of anything anymore. Not a letter she had received from her husband, not even a reassuring note from anyone that he was okay. MOre and more often he was gone, and she was finding it hard to bear it. Ruffling her daughter's hair with her hand, she added, "We'll celevrate Christmas with daddy when he gets home, kay honey?"
"Kay," Estrella replied glumly, setting the last cookie on the srtone. She found it quite hard as a five year old to get used to her father's absences.

Snapping back into reality, Estrella opened her eyes to look at her dad, who was returning her gaze with a dark and weary expression. “Home for Christmas, Dad,” she muttered hoarsely, “Just like Mommy said you would be. Except, I don’t think she figured it would be ten years later.”

 

[Tristan Drage]

“I can’t change anything, ‘strella,” Tristan replied weakly, her stabbing comment hitting home. “What’s done is done.”

 

[Estrella Drage]

“No, nothing can be changed,” Estrella replied bitterly, moving over to the kitchen table. “Mom’s dead.” She said it with a striking finality, although it hurt even her to say it.

 

[Tristan Drage]

Tristan glared at his daughter in anger, his eyes narrowing. “You think that I don’t recognize that every damned day of my life?” he growled. “I loved you and your mother more than anything in the world. I still do.”

 

[Estrella Drage]

“Not more than you loved the Death Eaters, Dad,” Estrella replied poisonously. “And you know what? You can have those slimeballs. I’m past caring any more.” She moved out of the kitchen; she did not want to converse any longer with someone she so hated.

She walked back into the hallway, past the living room that had suffered much breakage from her riding on a toy broomstick. Beyond was an art room, an office, bathroom, and guest bedroom. She remembered everything like the back of her hand. Not a thing was changed. Except, of course, the dreadful aura of pain and misery, that swallowed up the pain and joy that had made this house a home. She bolted up the stairs, holding back the tears in her eyes. She wandered past her parent’s bedroom, a bathroom, and two other bedrooms, obviously intended for future children to make use of. I was supposed to have a brother, she thought with dread. I even remember, they were going to name him Arthur.

Shaking her head, she tentatively opened her old bedroom door with a trembling hand. It swung open easily on its hinges, though with a terrible shriek, in desperate need of some oil. In the darkness she trudged over to her bed, pushing off what looked like leather bound books and a stuffed animal. They all fell with repetitive clunks to the floor.

Estrella flopped onto her bed, which thankfully was just long enough for her legs. For a while, she just listened to the sounds of the house, fat tears trickling freely from her eyes. She could hear voices downstairs, and she was sure they were of death eaters. She stared at the ceiling for a while, her eyesight blurred due to tears and the darkness. Soon, a troubled slumber claimed her.

 

[Tristan Drage]

Tristan watched as his daughter left, his expression mingled with anger and sadness. He was not worried about her escaping, as he had place charms around the house to warn those inside of anyone going out or coming in. He was unable to dwell on his thoughts, however, as he heard the unmistakable pop of someone apparating outside his door. He walked over to it, prepared to open it up for passage, but the person simply barged in.

 

[Lissandra Zabini]

“Hi, hun!” Lissandra greeted, her belly positively bulging beneath her cloak. Being four months pregnant, she was quite emotional at times. She wrapped her arms around Tristan’s neck. “I don’t think he takes to Apparating too much,” she commented, rubbing her stomach. “He’s kicking like crazy.”

 

[Tristan Drage]

“That’s good,” Tristan replied, pulling his dark hair behind his ear, trying to sound interested. He had screwed up majorly on being a father once; what was to say that he wouldn’t do it again? Yes, among the death eaters, the union was highly approved of, unlike the muggle marriage he had had so many years ago. But every time he looked at the pregnant Lissandra, he saw Lorelei, as he had last seen her, on the night he had left.
She wouldn’t have died. She was carrying your son, too.
And it was the thought that killed him everyday. He was very glad to hear the sound of apparation at his door again, and he almost ran to it, although the caller was not one that he was particularly glad to see.

 

[Vladmir Rasputin]

“Well, how do you do, Tristan?” Vladmir sneered as he invited himself through the door, toting a dilapidated suitcase. Shaking the snow out of his ratty hair, dirt, dandruff and who knows what else falling onto Tristan’s clean floor. He didn’t take any care to wipe off his boots, either, tracking mud all over the floor. “So, where do I stay in this muggle pit?”

 

[Ravus Winterling]

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself, Vladmir. I’m sure they’ve put a decent bit of thought to where they’ll be keeping you. Let see… there’s bound to be a root cellar somewhere around here. That’d make a nice place for you seeing as how we wouldn’t have to see you’re ugly mug very often.” A voice hissed from the shadows of the doorway. “And there’s always the barn. Why you’d feel right at home there wouldn’t you, Vlad, with all the rats to curl up with and the fermented animal dung. Judging by the smell of you, I almost get the impression that you’ve been and done that quiet a bit in your lifetime.”

Ravus snickered coolly as he stepped into view, pleased to have picked up on the ongoing joke about the other man’s hygiene, or rather, his lack of one as it seemed. With his mouth quirked into a sly smirk, he regarded the house as well as the two in front of him with unbridled amusement, staring down with the confidence and air that his lifestyle had long bequeathed him.

His grin broadened slightly when his sharp gaze fell to rest on Tristan, recognizing the darkness and strength painted across the man’s form almost as quickly as his twin would have. Perhaps he did not have the so called Sight like Draven clearly did, but Ravus had an eye for others who could hold their own in a fight, especially one that would rage to the death as so many of his did. Tristan was clearly one of those few, a formidable possibility of an opponent that Ravus was ready to welcome. Not that the realization would grant the man any more respect than anyone else, though.

“Your daughter invisible or something, Tristan? I’d have thought you’d have her handcuffed to you by now… or did you give her the ‘get out of jail free card’ yet again?”

 

[Tristan Drage]

“There are charms all over this house,” Tristan snarled his eyes flickering in anger at the insult. “You would know if she tried to leave. She isn’t going anywhere.” Tired and irritated, he added poisonously, “Do you have any more dead bodies to throw in my house, Ravus?”

 

[Ravus Winterling]

Ravus chuckled, baring his wolf-like teeth in his usual grin of blatant amusement. “Serpentes thought you might ask as much. A little gift of greeting as he called it, but no, I don’t happen to have any dead bodies on me at the moment. He did say to tell you that he hasn’t gotten you your Christmas present yet, though.”

 

[Tristan Drage]

Not wanting to deal with anyone tonight, absolutely exhausted, Tristan led Vladmir to the downstairs guest room, gladly emphasizing the bathroom next to it with actual shampoos. Vladmir seemed unmoved by the hint; slamming the door behind him. Tristan in turn led Ravus and Lissandra upstairs, showing them to the guest rooms. But neither moved, and he raised an eyebrow at both.

 

[Ravus Winterling]

Without a word, Ravus slipped away, ducking into the room that his sensitive nose told him belonged to the Drage girl before anyone noticed his absence. He could see the girl’s huddled form on the small bed near the corner, his eyes drinking in everything around him like parched earth after a rainstorm, until every possible detail was etched into his mind. He grinned darkly as the door swung open again, light flooding in as Tristan entered the little room.

He’s quick, Ravus noted approvingly, though the man hadn’t been quick enough. Only a raw matter of seconds had passed before Tristan had noticed that he was missing and caught up with him but as far as Ravus went, seconds were as good as hours. I can track her now, no matter where she goes or how far she runs. Best of all was the fact that time would make any difference on that ability either. Once Ravus picked up a scent he could remember it forever. Fifty years could pass and he’d still be able to hunt the girl down as easily as he could have at that exact moment.

“No harm done, Dad. A little precaution is all.” He said casually as he pushed past Tristan and made his way toward his room. “Wouldn’t want to give her a fighting chance, now would I?”

 

[Tristan Drage]

"It's her," Tristan growled, "Just get the hell to bed. I've had enough of this bs for one night."
He gazed at his daughter, Ravus long gone. If only time was truly turnable...

He shook his head, and shut the door. He found that Lissandra had stayed, staring at him with doe eyes.

 

[Lissandra Zabini]

"Good night, love," Lissandra said quietly, and gave him a peck on the cheek and a quick embrace. Tired herself, she strolled into her own room, shutting the door behind her.

 

[Tristan Drage]

For a moment, Tristan stood there, a million thoughts rushing through his mind. The problem was, he didn't love Lissandra. Disgruntled, he wandered off to bed as the others had done, falling into an uneasy sleep.

 

[Estrella Drage]

Estrella awoke from twisted dreams, missing greatly the potion of Dreamless Sleep that she had used back at school, expecting to see the ornate ceiling of her dorm room. However, as she eyed the flourescent muggle light, everything came flooding back to her. She bit her lip, knowing that Malfoy Manor was repeating itself all over again. Except this time, she was imprisoned in a place that held much more pain for her. It was semi-poetic for the Death Eaters to imprison her in the one place that she had been truly happy with her family.

She rose from her bed, still clothed in her Ravenclaw robes from the night before. Groggily she trudged to the door, surprised as it opened easily, revealing the hallway before her. All at once her stomach attacked her, and she figure that she could raid the fridge. All of the doors around her were closed, the house not showing any other of its inhabitants. She stopped at the top of the stairs, however, as a man she did not recognize was at the bottom, his expression mean looking as he wore a white tank top.

So, she went with her most fancy free judgment and began walking down the stairs, but he did not move a muscle, blocking her way.

 

[Ravus Winterling]

Ravus eyed the girl rather coldly, angling himself at the stairs to block her from squeezing past. “Going somewhere?”

 

[Estrella Drage]

Deciding that she simply did not care if she was rude any more, Estrella snapped, "Well, I'm walking through my own house, or prison, you should say, thank you very much. And a man in a stupid wife beater shirt is currently in my path of travel."

She yelped as pain exploded through the left side of her face, the force of the punch sending her flying backwards into the staircase, the back of her head thunking against the steps. Nothing had prepared her for this, stars spinning in her vision. She was deaf and blind to what was going on around her.

 

[Ravus Winterling]

It took a moment for him to regain control of his breathing, to quell the anger that throbbed like fire through his veins, charring the fine, twisting lines to the darkest black. Drawing a deep breath, he straightened, the anger vanishing from his face behind a mask of composed impassiveness.

 

[Tristan Drage]

"What the HELL is going on?" Tristan snarled, observing his daughter, writhing in pain on the stairs, her left eye freshly blackened, a nasty red color swelling around it. He glared at Ravus, the muscle in his jaw twitching and a vein in his neck pulsing, silently demanding an answer.

 

[Ravus Winterling]

“Kid’s gotta learn sometime that the world’s not a friendly place. If she doesn’t learn fast, she won’t be in it much longer.” Ravus snapped.
“I’m actually rather surprised that you haven’t taught her that yet yourself, seeing as you know just as well as I do how ugly the world can be. But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t have expected much. You’ve been too busy chasing in circles just to keep her in one spot and coddling her whenever something bad happens. Just one more example of how pathetic the Death Eaters have become if they can’t even keep one weakling of a child in check.”

 

[Tristan Drage]

Tristan's expression darkened, his eyes flaring. "Shut the hell up, Ravus. Why don't you go kill someone instead of beating around children?" He walked down the stairs, to put his hand behind his daughter's head. Her eyes was positively blackened. But through it he could still see her hateful glare, and eventually he was pushed away.

 

[Ravus Winterling]

Ravus grinned, looking away so Tristan wouldn’t see the sharpness of his eyes. “Now there’s a suggestion I wouldn’t mind obliging, especially now. Unfortunately, I’m under orders against a little hunting at the moment. I real shame too, seeing as I’ve already got a good scent down and ready for the occasion.” He said darkly, glancing in pointedly in Estrella’s direction before stalking soundlessly out the door.

“Do try to keep your daughter in check, Tristan.” He called over his shoulder as he paused on the threshold. “Wouldn’t want the world to drop some nasty surprise on her doorstep.”