The Drage Residence 3

Estrella glared at Ravus, shaking uncontrollably. Beaten and frozen, she was unable to do much of anything. Eventually she gazed toward the ground, caught and defeated.

She was not surprised when she was thrown down to the snow, inclined to cry out as Ravus grabbed the back of her jacket, dragging her back the way he had come.
 
Tristan's mood was dark and stressed when he apparated to his Home days after he had departed, his stare vacant. In order to kill people, you had to be impassive about certain things. The matter with Carlisle had unsettled him greatly, but with his brother in law locked away, it at least gave him an assurance of safety.

He entered his House, wincing at the pain of the bullets still embedded in his arm. Luckily for him, Carlisle, when enraged, was not a sure shot as usual. He raised his eyebrows at the silence around him; too quiet. Only a few lights were on, in far off rooms. He strolled into the living room, where Lissandra was sitting in a chair by herself, staring back at him with a solemn expression.
 
Looking up from the book, Lissandra commented gravely, "It's a good thing you're back. Things have not gone well as of late." She pulled her long red hair out of her eyes, setting it behind her ear.
 
Tristan took a seat down on the sofa, wondering where the other two men were. "What has happened?" he inquired with a growl, pinching his fingers on the smallest bullet wound and popping the silver shell out. He pressed his cloak to the wound to stem the flow of blood, looking to Lissandra.
 
Not asking, as usual, where he had acquired his injuries, Lissandra was straightforward with Tristan. "Your daughter tried to escape while you were gone, and is in a horrible state." She gulped as she looked at him. "Ravus went after her." She stood, and strolled lithely to the staircase. "Come with me."
 
Gritting his teeth, Tristan followed her up the stairs, but was surprised as she turned into his own room and not Estrella's. "What-" he began, but was cut off by Lissandra.
 
"Ravus felt it necessary to place her in a room where she couldn't get out, and one that she hadn't already escaped from," Lissandra replied, rolling her eyes. "He was very adamant about sticking her in a root cellar, but I talked him out of it."

She pointed her wand at the door, opening the newly fastened lock with a jet of blue magic. Pushing on the door, which creaked loudly, she stepped inside, putting a finger to her lips to indicate silence.
 
Tristan gritted in teeth as he saw his daughter laying on the bed, her breathing sharp and ragged, covered up to her neck in blankets. Her dark hair, scraggly and unkept, flowed over the covers, her expression strained and uncomfortable. Her face was absolutely littered with cuts and bruises, decorating purple and blue around her neck. The black eye that she had acquired in his presence was fresh once more, her eye swelled shut. Even under the blankets, she shivered slightly, as if she was still attempting to recover from a cold environment. He was beyond words; sure that she could have done nothing to observe this much abuse. She was only fourteen, for Merlin's sake.

He moved over to the side of the bed, putting his hand on her forehead. She was unresponsive as he called her name softly, shifting and twisting as she struggled through some nightmare. His jaw tightened in anger, but in this situation, actions against Ravus would not be wise. Looking up to Lissandra, he inquired, "Has she been awake?"
 
Lissandra's expression was strained, her lips thin. "Not for more than a few seconds." She walked over to Estrella, red hair spilling over her shoulders. "I've been trying to heal her cuts and bruises, but some are relentless."

She looked to Tristan, but could not read the emotions in his face. Unsettled, she muttered, "I'm going to whip up dinner. I'll leave you to yourself." She turned and left.
 
Tristan was not ridden with emotion, however; suddenly, he touched Estrella's forehead and began to hear voices. He did not acknowledge Lissandra as he left the room. What the hell? He thought, but when he closed his eyes he was pulled into an entirely different space and time, opening them to a younger world.
 
She ran through the streets of an old, quiet Muggle town, snow carpeting everything around her and frost decorating the windows, icicles dripping on the tree branches. Something was behind her; she didn't know who or what it was, but all she knew was that she couldn't let it grab her. But the frigid air stung her lungs, and she was dressed only in her Ravenclaw robes, the chill biting her body and numbing her limbs. And every step she took, she was getting slower and slower, her legs made of lead.

She turned around to look. She could see the figure now, a big man, his face hidden by a cloak. She did not know his identity, but on the other hand, she didn't want to know. All of a sudden, she tripped, the cold of the snow burning her face. She struggled to get up, she was caught as she did so, and she was whisked off to another time and place. She screamed in the black void, but all of a sudden, the air was warm and she was with her mother.

The weather was bad and the roads were busy, her mother biting her lip as she attempted to hang on in the subway. They were making the annual trip to the zoo, and not surprisingly without her father. Being an innocent five year old, Estrella did not really know what was going on. She turned to her mother, and asked inquisitively, "Do you know if Daddy is coming home for Christmas yet?"

"No, Estrella," Lorelei replied wearily. "I don't know when he is ever coming back." Her tone was bitter and she felt a pang of guilt as Estrella's face fell, but she couldn't help it. She had to pay attention to their destination, and to the others on the subway.

Estrella sighed and looked longingly out the window. Her brow furrowed as she observed two cloak men, standing inside the tram and waving their wands. She immediately found that to be weird, as she

And in a moment's time, the tram had skidded off of the tracks, crunched against the wall of the underground. All Estrella saw was blackness, and then she could see the flashlight of a police officer, peering into their car. "Mommy?" she whispered gravely, reaching her hand out to touch her mom's blood soaked face. And that was the moment that she knew she was dead, her eyes vacant and lightless, and she began to cry. Not many around her were alive; they were all like her mother. Dead and gone.
 
Horrified at his daughter's nightmare, Tristan attempted to pull away, but he was held fast, vaulted off to another scene.

Lorelei stared back at him, her usually happy expression cold and angry. Suddenly he realized that this was his own memory, not Estrella's; his daughter had not been present.

keira_knightley_3.jpg


What the hell is going on?

"I don't know what to do, Tristan," Lorelei snapped coldly, throwing a dishrag into the kitchen sink with force. "Every damn time you run off you come back twisted and even more changed than before."

"I don't need to listen to this," Tristan replied angrily, "I make sure that you and Estrella are provided for."

"Don't give me that," Lorelei hissed, "Every time you've left, you've claimed it's for work. But do you know what?" She held up a letter. "That's a damn lie." She shook the letter in her hand, and spat, "It's from the Ministry. It says to pick up your office supplies or they're going to throw them out. It also states that you left the Auror Offices six months ago. Or are they just confused, Tristan?"

Tristan crossed his arms, his gaze passive. "No, they're not confused. But you shouldn't be worried about money; I have it all covered."

"You don't bloody get it, DO YOU, TRISTAN?" Lorelei snarled, grabbing the nearest plate and chucking it at his head.

Tristan sidestepped the flying dish, which hit the wall and shattered into tiny pieces. "You're being irrational."

"ME? BE IRRATIONAL?" Lorelei shrieked, stepping forward. "Well, if it's irrational to worry about my husband every damned day of my life, then I guess I am. ESTRELLA HAS ASKED ME EVERY SINGLE DAY SINCE YOU LEFT WHEN YOU'RE COMING HOME! I AM SO SICK OF HAVING TO WONDER THE SAME THING!" She threw a cup at him, continuing her rampage. "Not once... have I gotten.. a letter, saying if you're okay or not! Not even that!" Her face was beet red as she chucked an aluminum platter at him. "I"M HERE, RAISING MY KID, WONDERING IF YOU"RE DEAD WHILE YOU"RE OFF GETTING.. TATTOOS, FOR GOD'S SAKE, CHUMMING AROUND WITH GOD KNOWS WHO, SLEEPING WITH EVERY-"

"Wait a minute," Tristan growled, angry although he was trying to be calm, "I have not been sleeping with anyone. You're jumping to conclusions."

Unable to contain her anger any longer, Lorelei bellowed, "I"M PREGNANT!"
 
Tristan fought back emotional agony as he was pulled out of the scene. He opened his eyes to see the shadow of a girl, staring back at him. There was no explanation for what had happened, no reason for why this would be happening in the here and now. He could see into her worst memories and she into his, and there was no stopping it, nothing in chronological order.

He was fifteen, just having returned from his fourth year as a Ravenclaw at Hogwarts. His return was greeted with misery, and he forever hated having to step into the walls of Drage Herrogard.

This time, he strode into the Grand Library, where his father Valcan, a giant of a man, was reading a book.

"Hei, Far," he greeted in Norwegian, although his English accent was creeping into it.

Without looking up from his book, Valcan replied strongly, "Ha en av huset elves fører din ting til din rom, fao noe til å ete og til å rapportere til dungeons, som vanlig, for utdanne."

"Hva?" Tristan exclaimed loudly. "Jeg har akkurat returnert fra skole. Fortjener jeg en brudd ikke?"

"Ledige brudd er for det svake av hjerte. Gjør skuller jeg sier, Tristan," Valcan growled.

"Men jeg vil ikke en gang fortsette dette mer!" Tristan snapped, immediately knowing that he was in for it. "Det er meningsløs ; hvor er sanseløs raseri som noensinne drar til faor du i liv?"

"Til mere steder enn du ville dem forestille," Valcan declared as he jumped from his chair, grabbing his son by the collar, who was still growing taller and had not filled out yet, looking puny next to his towering and heavily muscled father. "Jeg vil ikke la du forårsake en flekk på mitt hus ved å forsømme av det meste som er adelig av magier. Tross meg, og du skal ikke dra til den skolen mer. Jeg vil dra du ut, og du vil bli her."

"But-" Tristan began, glaring back at his father. However, tired of it, Valcan simply threw his son into a nearby bookcase, causing great pain as books descended to his head and shoulders. On impulse, the lantern behind Valcan shattered, and his father could only laugh.

That same laugh rang through Tristan's ears as he was pulled into the next memory, and this one was not his own. It was Estrella's, and obviously, it had not happened very long ago.


{{Translations:

Hello, Father

Have one of the house elves bring your things to your room, get something to eat and report to the dungeons, as usual, for training

What? I've just returned from school. Do I not deserve a break?

Idle breaks are for the faint hearted. Do as I say, Tristan

But I don't even want to continue this anymore! It's pointless; where is senseless rage ever going to get you in life?

To more places than you would imagine. I will not have you cause a stain upon my house by neglecting the most noble of magics. Defy me, and you shall not go to that school anymore. I will pull you out, and you will stay here. }}
 
The next vision was much sharper and clearer, much more recent. It went quickly too. Only snippets of the fight were revealed, Bellatrix the obvious victor, But what had made Estrella curse her? He couldn't tell.

http://z11.invisionfree.com/Hogwarts_NZ/in...topic=2846&st=0

The tombstones of the cemetery came next, and what he had wanted to hide was revealed with much accusing detail.

http://z11.invisionfree.com/Hogwarts_NZ/in...?showtopic=3185

But it was the next memory that wounded him the most, one that he and Estrella had shared, and one thing that he was constantly reminded of in waking life.

Tristan looked back on the sleeping Lorelei, the last time he had ever seen her. She was pregnant, one hand on her belly while the other lay limply on her pillow. Even in her sleep, her expression was troubled. Positive that he would see her again, he looked upon her without much thought, and shut the door quietly, moving quickly down the stairs.

"Daddy?"

He turned to see Estrella, standing at the top of the stairs. She was dressed in a nightgown that was entirely too long for her, draping on the ground. His hard expression gained a little softness to it; her lip trembling, his daughter looked about to break into tears. "You should be in bed, 'strella," he finally said quietly.

"Where are you going, Daddy?" Estrella inquired hoarsely, her dark eyes wide. They began to well up with tears as she trembled. "I don't want you to go. I miss you all the time, and so does Mommy." She stepped down the stairs to her father, clinging to his waist. "When you're gone, Mommy sometimes cries to sleep at night. She doesn't think I'm listening, but I am." She was unwilling to let go, and then the tears broke free, streaming down her face. "Don't go, Daddy," she sobbed.

At nearly seven feet tall, Tristan dwarfed his daughter. "I have to, 'strella."

"But why?" Estrella sobbed, repeating, "I don't want you to go!"

Getting to his knees so that he could look her in the eyes, Tristan clung to her arms, brushing her tears away with his hand. "I won't be gone forever," he said, "I'll always be back for you and your mom."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Tristan replied, enveloping her in a great bear hug. "There are some things in this world that we have to do, even if we may not like it." Kissing her on the cheek, he picked her up with ease, walking back up the stairs. "I'll be back," he repeated, "But for now you have to sleep. It's past your bed time."

Putting her arms around his neck, the tiny Estrella put her head on his chest. "I love you, Daddy," she declared quietly, unwilling to let go.

"I love you too, 'strella," Tristan replied, nearly having to pry her off of him. Holding her out like a rag doll, he tucked her into bed, kissing her on the forehead. With a quiet goodbye so as not to wake his wife, he left the room.
 
The last vision was Tristan's own, one around the same time period as the previous one. He returned to his home, nearly a month after Christmas. He was worried greatly as he looked upon the house; it was sad and lonely amongst the snow, and it appeared lifeless.

Quickly he walked to the door, and found it to be unlocked. Lorelei always locked it when she was away, her missing car proof of that. "Is anyone home?" he called. No reply. He strolled into the kitchen, and found everything clean, not a dish there to indicate that someone had eaten in the past twenty four hours. Beginning to grow worried, he looked around for a note. His wife always left a note on the kitchen table, but there was none to be seen. He soon found himself in the living room, but found dust to be coating the couch. What the hell is going on?

"They're not here, Tristan," a voice spoke behind him. It was his brother, Lief.

"What are you talking about?" Tristan growled. "It's as if they up and left!"

"They have, in a sense," Lief sighed, his eyes wide and carrying sadness. "Tristan, I didn't want to be the one to tell you this; Lorelei's dead."

Tristan staggered as his whole world crashed down upon him at once. "What?" he croaked.

"A month ago," Lief continued gravely, "Your wife and daughter were driving through a blizzard. The semi rolled over, she did not suffer. The doctors said that her death was quick."

Unable to contain his anger, Tristan grabbed Lief by the collar, pinning him against the wall with ease. "Where is Estrella?" he bellowed. "WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DAUGHTER? THEY CAN"T BE DEAD, THEY CAN"T!"

"Calm yourself, Tristan," Lief said quietly. "She came through without a scratch. But she is in England no longer. The Ministry moved her to a relative's in America. They had to, as you were not around."

"She has no wizarding family over there; why would they not take her to Drage Herrogard?" Tristan choked angrily, his face beet red and his eyes holding back tears. "As much as he hates me, Father still would take her in."

"Our home is impossible to find, however," Lief reminded him. "Her uncle, I believe Carlisle was his name, took her in with no problem, to a place called Minnesota."

"Then I'll have to go get her," Tristan replied, his gaze vacant.

"Think carefully about what you're going to do, brother," Lief advised him, "Estrella has a home, she is provided for. She will be happy and have a family that can be there at a constant. You, however, are not around all the time, and have no idea how to settle." Lief shrugged. "Ultimately, it's your choice."

And the decision he had made was apparent as he was brought back into the real world, staggering back from Estrella. She stared back at him, wide awake, her gaze depthless.
 
"What just happened?" Estrella gasped, inhaling sharply. At first, she had been having nightmare's about her mother's death, but suddenly visions that weren't her own had begun to flood her mind. Some of her own had been there, of course, but her father's were particularly dominant.

"Where is Carlisle?" she inquired, her voice weak. She had seen the vision, ever so clearly, ending with her uncle being knocked out.
 
"I apparated him home," Tristan lied. "He's fine; no one truly hurt him." Seeing that she believed him, he inquired, "Are you okay?"
 
"As fine as I can be," she said quietly, her whole body aching in pain. She was too tired to be incessantly rude, and was realizing that it was getting her nowhere. Somehow ,her old father had returned, and she was beginning to wonder if it was she that was misguided.

Sitting up, she stared back at him, her dark eyes wide. "Dad," she began, and for the first time in many years the word was not spoken in spite, "What was your father making you do? He didn't seem very pleasant."
 
Tristan started; out of all the memories that had happened, he was surprised that she had inquired of the one of his boyhood. "My father was not a nice man," he replied finally, not wishing to speak about it.
 
"Is he dead?" Estrella inquired, not even have met the man before.
 
Pursing his lips tightly, Tristan said quietly, "He is still alive. But mark my words, you will never want to meet him. When you were born, I took you back home to show you off, and-" His voice trailed off, his eyes flaring in anger.
 
"What?" Estrella inquired, not recieving an answer, however. She was silent for a moment, and then said guiltily, "I didn't think that you even came back."
 
"I did," Tristan agreed quietly. "But you saw that. I'm sure you saw everything. All of those memories, I mean." He shook his head. "I would have rather you hadn't seen that. Especially.." He became quiet once more, leaving the sentence open.
 
Not expecting him to finish, Estrella was out of the bed before she knew what she was doing, embracing her father. She was surprised at her own affection, but did not turn away. Tears that were of sorrow fell freely from her eyes, and she didn't say anything. She was just as shocked as her father at her sudden action.
 
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