We Don't Want Any

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Lisbeth Adler

Active Member
Messages
32
OOC First Name
Beth
Wand
Hemlock wood, 9" Essence of Dragon Heart String, Rigid
It was freezing in Germany, and a delicate covering of frost outlined every roof of every building. In a house just out of town, quite different to the others, opened its curtains to the dawn of a new day. It was nine O'clock and both occupants were awake; the woman was dressed in a blood-red dress- the sort one would wear only in the evening. Her shoes were black heels and she had just drawn on her lipstick and was onto styling her hair with magic, when she heard the knock.

Lisbeth walked to the door, wand still in hand- well, it was perfectly safe to open the door with wand in full view, not because she enjoyed killing muggles, but because there was an enchantment on the house: Only witches and wizards could see it. Whoever she had been expecting, Lisbeth was not greeted by them. Her unamused face peered through the gap in the door, which she widened to stand in, almost all of her in view, folding her arms and staring out and then down at the visitors. "Yes?" She said in a stern and powerful voice.
 
Francesca shivered, although she wasn't sure whether it was from nerves, of from the fact she was about to tell her ex-boyfriend that he was the father of her three year old child, Floretta. Butterflies were prominent in her stomach, and she knew that if she said something, or did something wrong, it could lead to messy consequences. Francesca took a deep breath in, and knocked on the door. She watched her dragonbreath as she waited for somebody to open the door. She was surprised to see a woman. Perhaps his new girlfriend? His wife? Fran took another deep breath. 'Hello..' She said, an awkward pause between that and what she said next. 'I'm looking for a.. Silvester? I have something to tell him. It's very important. I'm his old girlfriend, Francesca.' She knew that if she told the woman her name, she may have realised who she was, but still held her breath. optimistic.

The woman wasn't exactly pretty, in Fran's eyes. She looked slightly stuck up, and she had no idea what Silvester could possibly see in her. She must have had it wrong. Perhaps she was his sister? She still wasn't sure, but the more she looked at her, the more of Silvester she was starting to see in her. She exhaled, slightly relieved but still worried. And then she wondered why she even cared. A rush of fear ran through her veins as she realised that he might not want anything to do with her or their child. But how could he not, it was his child. He would have to have some sort of interest in her, surely? Fran could only hope.
 
Lisbeth stared long and hard for a good minute before her eyes flickered back to life. She eyed the woman as she turned her head, only briefly glancing away to call up the stairs. "Silvester," he voice did not waver as it increased in volume, though it did sound rather amused. "There's a hag on the doorstep, says her name is Francesca. She wants to speak to you." Lisbeth did not seem to care that the woman she was degrading, was stood just in front of her. There was a faint squeak upstairs, followed by a thud and a loud groan. Lisbeth rolled her eyes and turned back to the woman.

Her eyes fell to the child. She watched it with a furrowed brow, almost trying to understand it. She had a horrible feeling that she knew who it belonged to. Another sound echoed- Silvester, sore back from trying to jump out of the bath too fast and tripping, was running down the stairs, towel around his waist. The only other thing on his body was a necklace. He was running at the door, at Lisbeth. She gave a slight moan as Silvester pulled her from the door and slammed it shut. Lisbeth released a gush of breath. She was very unimpressed by her brother's actions. "Now, I don't mean to intrude," she began, voice dripping in sarcasm, "but is there something you aren't telling me, dearest brother?" The door was shut tight. Neither side could hear the other. Which was possibly fortunate.
 
Silvester remembered Francesca. This was why he had unsubtly slammed the door in her face. He had never told Lisbeth about what had happened.. Well, it wasn't exactly her business, was it? But then, Lisbeth Adler ruled both her and her twin brother's life. She almost always got her way, the only exceptions being her two other siblings. Silvester had never had control of his life and he followed his sister's orders without question. He could have easily answered his sister's question, but for once, he knew she was only saying this as an attempt to try and believe that this was not how it seemed. Lisbeth spoke perfect English, Silvester did not. Oh, he could understand it, alright, and he could say a few words- some of which had got him into this situation in the first place.

The twins were staring at one another. Lisbeth's stare was challenging, daring Silvester to go out and speak to Francesca. Silvester's were, for possibly the first time in his life, fearful. If he went out to that woman, he would have to face up to what he had done. His sister wasn't going to let him hide away, not when his suffering would cheer her up immensely. Silvester moved to the wall beside the door, placing his palms flat against it, bring his forehead towards it, smacking it not once, but three times and swearing loudly as he did so. When he stopped, he managed to breath a few words in German. "I'm in the dragon dung with this one, aren't I?"
 
Lisbeth sighed, mockingly, placing a hand upon her brother's shoulder before replying in English. "Deeper than the innermost caverns of Gringotts." A smile played across her face. "Don't worry," she said, though this was not wholly comforting from the woman who had killed her past few husbands with those words. "Everything will be alright." She walked back to the door, opening it again and smirking out at the woman. "Silvester is busy. Can I take a message or will you get your disgusting child off my doorstep before I do it first?" In truth, the child was not disgusting, but Lisbeth had never been very maternal or caring for children in general. This was one aspect of Lisbeth that would remain too stubborn to change.

Silvester was listening to her words, watching how calm and casual she looked. She turned her head only briefly to look at him. He must have known what she meant, for he headed back upstairs to get dressed. This was the first time Francesca and Lisbeth had met. So far, so good.
 
A scowl arised on Francesca's face when the door was abruptly slammed on her face. She wondered whether to leave now, and save Silvester's embarassment, but she was determined to speak to him. She wasn't angry at all, she just wanted her daughter to have a family. She looked down at Florette, who was reaching up to hold her hand. She knew she was beautiful, and one day she would also realise that too. But for now, Fran smiled softly at Florette, who simply clutched her hand tighter. 'It'll be o-' The front door reopened, follow by a slightly cross version of the woman she had seen earlier. Francesca looked up quickly, and then scowled again at her crude comment. She heard somebody running upstairs, and guessed that was Silvester. 'Yes, I do have a message for him.' Fran started, still angered by her comment about Florette. 'But I'd really like to come in to tell him. Although, he's probably worked it out by now,' she said lowering her head. 'I know Silvester will feel really awkward about me being here..' Fran's voice was quiet and embarassed, 'But it's really quite important I talk to him. Would you please do me a favour and let him know that I'm not angry with him?' She asked, looking up and looking the woman in the eye.

Francesca's worry about her being her his wife had faded. She knew that Silvester would not date somebody as stuck up as she was. She felt like raising her eyebrows and sticking her finger up at the woman, but resisted, as the need to speak to Silvester was more overpowering than the need to annoy or upset the horrible woman inside the front door.
 
Lisbeth shook her head. "I will do no such thing." She paused, having made a decision. The door was opened to its widest. Lisbeth stepped back. "The living room is through then," she gestured over at a door. "Do not sit down or touch anything- you are not welcome." It was clear that this was no joke and she waited for the woman to step inside with her daughter. Well, she assumed it was her daughter, but the two people could be anyone. She didn't even know if they were filth or not. But surely her brother was better than that, to do such a thing with pure filth? The Francesca woman was probably some ugly half blood, or something.

Lisbeth closed the front door, walking through to the living room. It was the largest room of the house, floral swirls decorating most of it in different shades of colour. The fireplace was warm and a group of logs smoldered in silence. A silver tea set was out on a tray on the coffee table. Everything looked spotless. The photographs which lined the fireplace, were few and silver-framed with moving pictures. In one of these pictures, resided a man in his early twenties, dressed smartly, watching the over the living room. Another picture was of a teenage girl, dressed in fancy robes, smoking a pipe. She did not seem at all cheerful- more annoyed. A picture in the center had captured both of these people. This time, they were in their thirties, both dressed fancily, standing in front of a boat. The woman had a false smile on her face and the man did not smile at all. Lisbeth did not acknowledge the people in the photograph, but spoke. "I shall inform Silvester of your presence." Lisbeth nodded slightly before walking from the room.

Silence.
 
As Francesca gratefully, although slightly annoyed, entered the room, she immediately noticed how spotless her house was. She respected the woman's home, but did not want to take any more rude comments from her. What did she mean, 'you are not welcome'? Did she think she was a muggle? Because she was treating her like one. She obviously did not understand anything about Silvester and Fracesca. Maybe he had not told her anything. Fran clasped Floretta's hand, pulling her gently out of the way of a few picture frames. She didn't want to knock anything over, she would be in big trouble, and she especially didn't want Floretta to knock anything over. She already thought they were a hag and a disgusting child, and they hadn't even properly spoken.

Cesca stood for a while, wondeirng how long it would take for Silvester to pluck up the courage and come back downstairs, preferably with some clothes on. She did not mean to embarass him, or make things any more awkward than they were already between them, but she felt that as a family, they needed contact with each other. And Fran was forgiving, anyway, and was willing to forget whatever happened in the past, even if she played a role in it too. She just hoped he was as forgiving as herself.
 
Silvester was fully dressed and staring at himself in the full-length mirror of his bedroom. What was he going to say to Francesca after all these years? What was he going to do? Lisbeth was no help at all, passing by the door and muttering ".. Hag is in the living room.." She had let them in. Silvester knew why she had done it, and he couldn't blame her for this. He had never learnt to blame his perfect twin for anything. She had not trained him that way.

Knowing that delaying the inevitable was not going to help, Silvester began the short journey down to the lounge. As he had walked down the stairs, never before had he wished for a painful fall to occur. He had made it to the living room door. He stepped inside. His eyes immediately found a face. It was beautiful. It was small and belonged to an equally small girl. Silvester remained where he was, watching the child for a moment before looking up to Francesca. He spoke in English. "You do not need to say. I can see." He approached the two of them, slowly, finally crouching down before the child. "Mein kind," he breathed, "how beautiful you are, how pure your blut stream run." Lisbeth did not know. Was this why she had been acting so nasty? Well, Lisbeth was always the fiery beast of death, but she normally had some slight respect for this sort of person. Silvester stroked his daughter's face, smiling into it. And then, a thought which almost unhooked the paternal instinct that drew him to this child- did she even know who he was?

Silvester looked up to Francesca, as though she would answer his thoughts. "Does she know who I am?" His voice was almost weak. He may have been an idiot, a fighter, a slave to his sister, but he was not completely void of the emotion his sister seemed to lack: Love. Lisbeth always said that love got in the way, it weakened, that children hindered progress and that money was the answer to all problems. As smart as she was, Lisbeth was wrong.
 
A sad look came upon Francesca's face. No, Floretta did not know who he was, but she didn't have the guts to tell him. To her, this man was just a stranger, a nobody, and that struck a pain in Fran's heart. She shook her head, biting her lip and trying not to let her eyes water. 'That woman doesn't know, does she? I suppose she thinks I'm a filthy muggle or something. How dare she!' Fran was almost in tears now. She needed Silvester's help to look after Floretta. 'Sil, please help me..' Fran whispered, one single tear dripping off Francesca's chin. She couldn't go on like she was, alone and looking after a 3 year old girl. She did not have the money or time to do it alone. And Silvester was the only person she could come to, talk to without feeling she was boring them.

When he stroked Floretta's face, Francesca automatically clenched her childs hand even harder, though immediately loosened her grip when she realised she was hurting her. She looked from Flora to Silvester, and felt a longing pang. She wanted to put her arms around Sil, let him know that she loved him, tell him that she loved him, and most of all, show him. She hoped that, as she was crying, he would put his own arms around her. It was the nicest thing he could do at that moment. But she didn't know if he was that nice.
 
"My sister has always been like that way," Silvester replied, though he remained crouched by his daughter. "She likes none." He could see the tear dripping from Francesca's chin. Had his sister really upset her that much? Silvester did not stand up, he did not spew comforting words or join her in a tearful reunion. He just crouched there with his daughter, looking unsure. He was not uncaring of Francesca's sorrow, but his priority at that moment, was his daughter.

The sound of footsteps echoed, once again. Lisbeth was going to rejoin them. She was the one Silvester looked to advice, she was the one who knew what to do in any situation and Silvester had learnt to trust her judgement. It was her choice as to how things would go, whether other people agreed or not. With a little explanation, maybe Lisbeth would see the current situation for what it was and maybe she would see it from Silvester's point of view.
 
Lisbeth had sat upstairs for a few minutes. That was long enough. She had given her brother and this woman time enough to come up with a decent explanation. She returned to the living room, stepping inside, cold eyes falling to her brother's position in the room, then raising to look at the Francesca woman. That was how Francesca would be known to Lisbeth. The Francesca woman was crying. How pathetic Lisbeth thought, folding her arms across her chest and looking the woman up and down. Important matters would have to be dealt with before Lisbeth could continue verbally abusing the hag.

"Well, Silvester?" She asked, voice like poison, eyes fixed solely on the Francesca woman. She did not like her, and, by right, neither did she like the child. "Are you going to tell me what's going to happen?" Even her glare seemed to shoot icy daggers into the Francesca woman. Silvester would have to provide a good explanation and a good solution. He knew by now exactly what sort of thing his sister wanted to hear. What he said was not exactly it.
 
Lisbeth was in the room with them, now, but Silvester did not turn around to face her. Instead, he just watched his daughter, smiling at her in a slightly sad way. Lisbeth's words only prompted his memory as to the decision he would have to make. Of course, it was never really anyone's decision other than Lisbeth's. "It was years ago- just one night." Whether this was true or not, was not important at that point in time. Not to his sister, anyway. "Francesca und-" he didn't even know his daughter's name. ".. They're both pure." An eyebrow was raised on Lisbeth's face, though Silvester did not turn to witness it.

He had never really known Francesca, properly, and he did not know her views on muggles. What he did know was his sister's views on them and there was only one thing to do. The thing that Lisbeth would have done in such a situation. Silvester stood up, turning round to face his sister, taking his daughter's other hand. "I want her to live here. I want to teach her to live right way with right values." He looked down at his daughter; this was his flesh and blood. She was pure and she was young enough to learn the right things. She was young enough still to be brainwashed by her aunt. It was that or Lisbeth would deem them both blood traitors. She hated blood traitors almost as much as muggles.
 
Francesca was starting to get worried. The tension between everyone was just part of it. Silvester wanted Floretta to live with him? What about her? Did that mean he wanted her to live with him too? Francesca had so many questions she needed to ask, but she felt embarassed in front of the woman. Silvester had taken Floretta's other hand, and she seemed confused, not sure why a strange man was trying to take her hand, or take her away from her mum. Francesca felted betrayed, unwanted, alone. Silvester cared about her child, but not about her. She wasn't having that.

'No..' Francesca said, fear and anger in her voice, 'I can't let her stay here. She doesn't know this place, doesn't like it.' That was a lie. She didn't know if Floretta liked it or not. Francesca was starting to panic. She wanted out of his house, and wanted to get away from the woman who had insulted them. She felt like snatching her daughter back and telling him to forget it, that she had never come over in the first place. But he was only trying to be kind to his own daughter. Why couldn't he be as kind to her? She had only felt love for Silvester since the moment she had set eyes on him. But he had not been quite as willing to put anything else into their relationship. He was a man. She should have known. He didn't want to stay with her forever. He just wanted what every man wanted. 'You..' She said, a growl in her voice, but she had nothing else to say.
 
Silvester was looking at Francesca, now. Did he feel something for her? It was more like he was staring at her. Lisbeth just seemed amused. She spoke directly to the Francesca woman. "You can let her stay here," Lisbeth had only just heard the idea, but she was moulding it in her mind. "I think she would benefit from our lifestyle." She hated children, but if she could train them soon enough, they were useful to her. Just like Silvester. But now came the issue of splitting up mother and baby. Lisbeth had no intention of letting the hag stay, though Silvester had said nothing against the idea.

Another thought passed through Lisbeth's mind and she smiled at it. It would work. She knew it would. "Well," she began casually, casting her eyes over those present. "Maybe you should stay, too- maybe you and Silvester can work something out and become a proper little family?" She fanned the idea with a hand, batting it this way and that. The house had only two proper bedrooms and one storeroom that was barely used, the loft being more useful. The child could sleep in the storeroom and the Francesca woman could sleep in with Silvester. Lisbeth clapped her hands together. "Right, well, that is sorted, then." She smiled before glancing down at the child. Her niece. "Does she have a name?"
 
Silvester now turned to stare at his sister. What had changed so suddenly? What was going through her mind? He had no intention of playing happy families with Francesca. He loved his daughter, of course he did, but he didn't feel love for Francesca.. Did he? He eyed his sister with a confused look, but said nothing. She had obviously thought of something. The innocence of that thought, was unknown.

He knew that Lisbeth was deadly serious. Maybe she had seen the little girl's face as he had and maybe her heart had melted, also? Silvester was trained not to delve any further into Lisbeth's reasons for her actions. All he really knew was what this meant; he and Francesca would have to share a bed. It would have, perhaps, been nice if his sister had consulted him first, on the matter, but he was going to have to go along with this. With any luck, she'd tell him, later, what the plan really was. Silvester gave Francesca a good hard look. He would have to patch things up with her, and fast. He prayed his sister would have an idea or what to do.
 
It seemed the sudden change in the woman's attitude had not only confused Francesca, but also Silvester. She looked at him, slightly bewildered, but gave a tiny shrug. It was the best place she could be, anyway, much better than her own pokey flat. She nodded towards the woman thankfully, deciding it would be best not to argue. 'Thank you,' she said simply, not making a big deal out of it. 'Her name's Floretta..' Fran paused, wondering if she should just have used the shorter version. She looked to Silvester, not a clue what to say next, but very greateful to both their kindness. However, the fact the woman had insulted both Fran and her child was still daunting, and she was having a hard time letting something like that drop. It wasn't that Francesca wasn't thankful, she was simply puzzled toward how the woman's attitude had suddenly changed. Had she been joking? Maybe she had thought of something to get Silvester of herself back with later. Or Floretta.

Fran gasped inwardly. Did this woman plan on hurting her child? She hoped beyond they grave that this was not the case. She would rather die than lose her only hope, and she would not let the woman ever come close to her again. Sure, that would be tricky with them living in the same house, but she would manage it. She would do anything to keep her daughter safe.
 
Had she ever been interested in the theatre, Lisbeth would have made a marvelous actress. She was a very convincing woman, having had practice with her many previous muggle husbands who had not known her to be a witch until it was too late. She smiled down at little Floretta, then back up at Francesca. "No need for thanks," she said, sounding pleasant. Her eyes went back to Floretta. "Why don't go for a little walk- I'll show you your room and mama and papa can have a little talk?" Lisbeth looked up to confirm that this was alright. It appeared that she was giving the Francesca woman and Silvester a chance to talk. Which she was.

The storeroom would need cleaning out and furnishing.. But Lisbeth would manage that. She was putting herself in charge of this household and its affairs and, most importantly, Floretta. This would leave Silvester and the Francesca woman time to talk or go out or whatever it was that people in such a situation did. Heck, maybe if things went well, they'd even get a few years out of it? The longer, the more convincing.
 
Floretta wasn't entirely aware of what was going on around her. She had brought her small pink toy unicorn Floppy, that she brought everywhere with her, and as Floretta sat on the carpet of her Aunt's house, she played quietly, making the unicorn jump around her.

When her Aunt said she should go for a walk, she wobbled up onto her little legs, picking up Floppy, and reaching up for her hand. "Floppy want's to see her room too" she smiled. At the thought of her new room, she ran ahead, and started to dive in and out of all the huge rooms she could see. She was almost at the end of the corridor when her co-ordination got the better of her, she she bumped into the door frame on the way into the room, Floppy skidding across the floor.
 
Lisbeth watched as the child darted from the room, turning to give her brother and the Francesca woman a nod, before she followed the child out. She witnessed the child bumping into the door frame and losing her toy. It was obvious that this child would take some work to train, and she wasn't sure if she had the potential. Well, first thing first, Lisbeth walked to the toy unicorn, taking it up between her fingers which seemed to snake around its leg. The unicorn hung there, upside down, in an almost haunting image. Lisbeth smiled.

"Floretta," she found herself pausing, eyes rolling slightly as she phrased her words in a way she felt right. "Sweetest, do you always carry around this.. This.. Thing?" This girl needed to learn right from the word go. "Here," she approached the child, crouching down to her, checking her over for bruises, though only visually. "Do you like presents?" Lisbeth's lipstick was the most obvious thing about her face- the fact that she always wore it the same shade of red. Not many people made it past the lipstick to the eyes. The watching eyes which hid her thoughts so well.
 
FLoretta stood back up, and watched as her Aunt called Floppy a thing. "Floppy comes everywhere with me. He likes to see what's happening" she smiled, and looked into her eyes as she began to crouch beside her. Her bright red lipstick certainly did stand out, and Floretta put a tiny finger to her Aunt's lips, before pasting it on the white door frame next to her. She grinned at the small stain like a artist admiring their work. Floretta nodded as she was asked if she liked presents. What sort of child didn't?
 
In the back of her mind, Lisbeth noted the lipstick stain that the little girl had just painted. She would deal with that later. For now, she was perfume and smiles. "That's great news," she said in a sugar-sweet voice, "because I have a present waiting for you in your new room." She took the child's hand, guiding her about the second floor, leading her into the store room and closing the door behind them. Lisbeth opened one of the boxes labelled Lisbeth and reached inside. The box was stacked among the others and there was no way Floretta could see into it. Which was good, for Lisbeth found it bad enough already.

Unfortunately, another box was open on the floor. This one was labelled Ruth and inside it was a photograph of young red-haired woman, smiling out at the room. There was also a teddy bear with a worn and ripped arm, and several letters addressed to Lisbeth. Lisbeth carried on, oblivious, rummaging through her box, before she finally found what she sought; a china doll with perfect brown hair, green eyes and a beautiful white dress and hat, soft as silk. She was enchanted not to break, which was why Lisbeth felt alright about giving the doll to Floretta. A proper toy. "Her name is Else," she said, turning and showing the doll to Floretta. "She's very special and she used belong to me. She'll be a good friend to you." She bent down a short way to outstretch her arm and offer the gift. The doll still looked like she was new, and she was perfectly handmade. Else's brown hair flopped forward a short way and the way in which Lisbeth held the large doll out, it looked as though she was asking for a cuddle.
 
As Floretta followed Lisbeth into the store room, she became mesmorized by a huge box, that was even taller than she was. She watched as numerious things came out, and when she was presented with a brown haired doll, her small fingers let go on Floppy, who fell to the cold floor. Reaching forward, she put her hands round the dolls waist, and held her very carfully. She had seen some of these dolls in the mothers room. They were the type that would watch over you when you went to sleep, she had said. "Else" she repeated, not quite sure if she liked the name or not. "She is magical too?" she asked, looking up at her Aunt. She may have been small, but she knew some human could do special things. She would have fun with Else if she did special things too.
 
Lisbeth smiled, but gave no definite answer. She simply reached down, subtly picking up the unicorn and placing it inside one of the boxes. On the box was the word 'entsorgen'. Lisbeth barely acknowledged this, not showing on her face what it all meant. She looked back to the child. "If you give her a chance, she may do something very special, indeed." Ah, the power of of influence. She could have told the child anything about the doll, but it was more amusing to see what she made of it and what it did. It was time to get to work with it all, and begin the lifelong process of training this child, properly. "What do you know about the history of magic?" It was best to brainwash them young, when you could still go for rewarding them, rather than punishing them.
 
History of Magic. History of Magic. Floretta racked her brains trying to remember what her mummy had told her. "It's very old." she smiled, glad she remembered something. "You have bad magic people and good magic people, and mummy showed me her wand" Floretta grinned at her Aunt, hoping she would be proud of how much she had been told and remembered. Floretta hadn't been taught much, only the basics, as the fact she was going to be magical herself wasn't a matter of if, but when.
 
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