The Errant Witch's Guide to Spells and Espionage.

[merylk2]

Stories always make betrayal seem like such a big deal. It's usually part of the climax, where the supposed friend or family member reveals themself as the villain behind the curtain. They're the ones moving everyone about like gaudy marionettes in some circus show Thalia recalled seeing as a child in Rouen. In stories it's a heartbreaking, dramatic moment. As an adult, it seemed to verge on ridiculous. The reality of the situation was to her that if one is inclined to betraying the aforementioned family, were they really that great to begin with?

Of course for Thalia Carrow, betraying her family to join the Order of the Phoenix definitely wouldn't be a shock. Not for her or anyone that she was remotely related to. Her older (half) brother Lycus would most likely use it as an excuse to confirm every single nasty thing he'd said about her as she grew. Thalia didn't need to imagine what vitriol spewed from his mouth at the dinner parties that his wife frequently hosted. She'd been subjected to it since the day their father died, leaving four year old Thalia and Erato, baby Calliope, and their mother completely at the mercy of Lycus, who, being a man, had inherited quite literally everything.

There wasn't a Knut that any of the Carrow women could claim as their own without going through Lycus. He'd begrudgingly cared for the four of them, keeping them ensconced in a dreary, crumbling French castle to keep all of them out of sight and mind. The man had never made it a secret how much he had detested his father's new bride and the subsequent three daughters that came from that union. Thalia agreed that the feeling was mutual, harboring no love for her brother or the spawn he and his wife, Ophelia Gaunt had created. Two terrors named Amycus and Alecto. That didn't stop her from smiling until her face hurt whenever her brother deigned to visit the small family in France. They needed the money after all. No doubt Ophelia, a woman as every bit as awful-looking as her maiden name implied, had fervently demanded he hold those purse strings firmly shut unless they had properly begged for a good fortnight.

Even her French LeStrange relations, her mother's family, had been zero help in taking care of their own kin. Girls, they said, were of no use to the family name, not even bothering with a face on the family tree. It didn't matter that Erato could barely walk on a good day she was so ill, her magic doing more harm to her body than any good. It didn't matter that Calliope, still a newborn struggling to gain weight from her premature birth was fighting for survival. Nope, none of that seemed to matter in a family where men were paramount and women were useless without them. Thalia was quite amazed she'd turned out as halfway decent as she did given what her family line had to work with. Her hair was a creamy strawberry blonde, her eyes a glittering blue, and her figure somewhat boney but still attractive enough to catch a wealthy noble family scion.

All of that history had worked to sell her story to the Order, a cast out from two powerful families. Someone with everything to gain by joining the Light and everything to lose if she joined the Dark. Dumbledore had considered her a beacon of what could be. Of children who had been on a dark path their entire life, only to realize the error of their ways and go against the people they loved. It made them trust her much more easily than they ever did Severus, a man whom she knew had once upon a time been tattooed with the mark of a Death Eater only to join the Dumbledore for reasons Thalia had never cared to learn.

She sipped her wine, watching the room fill up with person after person, all followers who eyed her suspiciously. If she took a drink every time they stared too long she'd be drunk before the Dark Lord arrived. That definitely wasn't happening so she sat in silence, eyeing everyone with the bone-chilling Carrow glare she'd managed to inherit. The meeting would hopefully start soon.

 

[Viverescribere]

Alys Meredith Jones' childhood was good, she didn't live the stressful life of being a perfect pureblood. She had been born and raised in Wales, and loved every moment of it away from the politics of the Ministry. Her father worked in Muggle Relations and her mother as a Magizoologist, specialising in Occamies. When she got her letter to go to Hogwarts, her parents were naturally delighted and proud. She had been sorted into Hufflepuff, excelled in Magical Creatures, Transfiguration and Herbology.

Then, in 1972, when Alys was 23, her parents were murdered. Death Eaters had broken into their house to torture and execute them for being blood traitors and holding sympathies with muggleborns. She had been in France, receiving further training and broadening her knowledge as an Owlet trainer.

Terrified, confused and grief-stricken, it was an understatement that Alys was relieved when the Order reached out to offer her safe passage back to Britain, and to find her a safehouse while they waited for the dust to settle on her parents' deaths. She wasn't sure if she would be next, as a relative to those the Dark Lord considered blood traitors. While in the safehouse being visited and updated by a member of the Order, Alys learned that she could be doing something to help the growing force and tyranny that was the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. She wanted to help fight against what was happening, and lower the possibility of what happened to her happening to others. Soon, her grief and fear turned into anger and determination, and the Order trained her; bettering her charms, strengthening her duelling skills and teaching her occlumency.

Finally, it just became a case of getting on the inside... She needed a way in to the ranks of the people that took her family from her, and unfortunately, there was only one way Alys could think of doing so in a short space of time.

Alys had to pick her target carefully, research the one she would latch onto in great detail. A married Death Eater, while the men were the ones in charge of both house and marriage, still ran the risk of evoking the wrath of the wife. Alys wanted to avoid unnecessary risks, and an angry housewife (who could secretly be just as powerful as her husband) was not a variable she wanted to contend with potentially poking about in her history.

Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were total write offs - she had been warned about Bellatrix, heard plenty of stories about the woman, and didn't want to be any nearer or exposed to her than necessary. Evan Rosier... now he had potential. He had links to many of the Sacred Families in the wizarding world, and bore the Death Eater mark on his forearm with great pride.

In the end, however, the young woman settled on Antonin Dolohov. While those within the Order had warned her about the man, Alys knew that it was better to be on the good side of such a strong and talented dueller, rather than on his bad. His closeness to other Death Eaters, plus his role within the Inner Circle meant she could potentially access information that was not known to everyone, and therefore help with preparing or even preventing attacks.

With her target picked out, Alys began to visit Knockturn Alley in the hope of figuring out where Dolohov would frequent. It took a few months, but eventually the young witch found his more favoured spot within The White Wyvern, a pub in Knockturn Alley. It soon became Alys' new haunt, patrons soon coming to recognise her and treat her with less suspicion until she had them eating from the palm of her hand. She would speak negatively and loudly about the Ministry, how she was fed up of working under a mudblood who didn't deserve the position, how disgusted she was with her parents for fraternising with muggles. She would participate in discussions about a world with only pureblood, listen to those who ranted in turn.

Until one day, a hand pressed against the small of her back and a voice offered to talk to her about what could be done over a pint of ale.

She had been Antonin Dolohov's lover for two years now. Keeping his interest had been no mean feat. She found the man enjoyed being kept on his toes, and she had learned to do just that. She attended meetings and dinners, even been put forward for a few missions of espionage and destruction and attacks. She had charmed blood from his clothes and even helped him bathe when he requested it. What sickened her the most was the sex; rough and bruising, Alys often hid the blue and purple marks under her clothes, with the man being as sadistic in bed as he was in his role as a Death Eater. Yet it was all a part of the role she played, innocent faced but with a darkness within.

So this was not the Welsh woman's first meeting, thus she did not stick to Dolohov's side like she had to in the first few. She made small talk with the friend's of his that she knew, dark eyes surveying the room from time to time. Her brown hair fell around her shoulders, slight curls in place towards the end, just as she knew Dolohov liked it. She wore a long grey dress, of fine-fitting material that hugged her in the right areas but hidden underneath the accompanying long black velvet coat that remained tight to the chest and waist, but flared out and down in an A-Line at her hips. Black boots adorned her feet, the heels only 3-inches and thicker rather than thin.

As she listened to the conversation, her eyes finally came to a stop upon a face she didn't truly recognise. The redhead stuck out in the sea of black, brown and blonde to an amusing degree, but Alys' expression bore no mirth, instead remained neutral and cool.

Excusing herself from Dolohov's friends, Alys made her way around the table with no particular rush, sipping her own wine as she went. She continued to observe as she neared, eyebrow raising at the cold glare that faced outwards, relentless.

"Is it your intention to not make any sort of alliance while you're here?" She drawled, finally setting her glass down on the table and sitting in the empty seat beside the redhead, "Piece of advice - get someone here to watch your back if you watch theirs. It won't be any fun for you if you have to work with someone who hates you... they'll throw you under the bus the moment they can save their own skin."

 

[merylk2]

The glass of wine was halfway gone when Thalia felt a presence seat itself next to her, the clink of a glass on a table in front of her. Truthfully, she hadn't expected anyone to come to introduce themselves. Perhaps Rodolphus and Rabastan, they were her family after all. Distant family but family nonetheless. Her brother had brought her here, though she assumed he was off kissing someone's ass. It was the usual behavior for him when he wasn't taking a break to insult his half-relations.

She had expected any number of family members, but this stranger, that had been curious. Enough to make her drop the signature Carrow glare. She lowered her glass, taking in the woman beside her. The outfit she wore was flattering, a gray number that Thalia could only dream of ever pulling off. The color always washed her out rather than accentuate any features she laid claim to. And the boots. They were gorgeous.Thalia hated to admit it but she was a sucker for good fashion, her French roots insisting upon an appreciation for elegance that surprisingly hadn't been knocked out from her English blood.

Thalia herself had a blue, billowing dress so dark Calliope had been convinced it was black. A small purchase made for this exact occasion at the behest of Lycus. He wanted his family, even the ones he hated, to impress his master. Black stars had been stitched into the gauzy sleeves that cuffed at her wrist, a compliment to the leather slippers she'd chosen to wear them with.

She took in the woman's words, trying her best to recall if Lycus had mentioned the woman's name. He'd taken great care to introduce the most important players. Well, the most important ones he's been allowed to be introduced to, Thalia thought mischievously. It almost seemed like genuine concern from the woman. Thalia couldn't decide if she was pleased or terrified.

"I appreciate the advice, though any alliances I make would have to be approved by my brother, Lycus," she replied bluntly, deciding honesty was perhaps truly the best policy in this situation. Lycus would insist upon knowing about any alliances, even ones that would be obvious given preexisting familial relations. She was surprised he hadn't started harassing her for any secrets she'd learned with the Order. "And he can't throw me under the proverbial bus anymore than he already has." Thalia lifted her hand. "Thalia Carrow. I don't recall your name," she answered politely.

 

[Viverescribere]

A leg crossed over the other with a skilled laziness that Alys had perfected over the years, a behaviour and attitude that suggested she felt comfortable and at east in the presence of those surrounding her. Even if she hid a hammering heart within her chest. She knew she was well protected, being at Dolohov's side but also with her own relative strength in duelling... but there was no way she would make it out of such a place alive if certain things were to come into light. So she had to act, play pretend, and simply be the woman they all thought her to be.

Her fingers carefully pushed her own wine glass a little further from the edge of the table by the base, eyes on the drink as the other woman began to respond. A soft snort escaped her at the mere thought of such alliances being approved by any patriarch or male heir to a family. However, she knew she was in no position to judge. Dolohov had made it perfectly clear who he wanted her to steer clear of and whom she could interact with.

The list of who to avoid grew longer over the two years, after some wandering eyes and flirtatious comments had been made. Not that Alys had cared, since she knew if Dolohov could be manipulated in such ways, others could be too. If dealing with even more interested parties landed her with more information... then she would do her bit for the Order, no questions asked.

Alys' gaze and head turned back to look at the other woman, eyes soon flickering over her again to observe the manner of dress and body language that was on display.

However, it didn't take long for her to reach out a hand to shake the one that had been extended to her, the beginnings of an amused smile dancing around the corners of her lips. "Alys Jones. I'm officially here with Antonin, but I don't care much for sticking to his side at these things. There's only so much bragging one can take... especially when it's a story that's already been told three times before."

Finally, the amused smirk cast itself onto her mouth, soon hidden by the wine glass she raised to her lips to take a sip from.

"So... a Carrow, hm? How come we haven't seen the likes of you before?"

 

[merylk2]

A smirk that she'd seen too many times on her own insufferable brother's face crossed her lips. Thalia recognized the name Antonin, recalling the long speech her brother had given her about the man's family. Dolohov, an Eastern European wizarding family if though she couldn't remember if it was Russian or Bulgarian. Her brother hadn't bothered to mention a wife or fiancée of the man. Though that said more about Lycus than it did Alys if Thalia were perfectly honest with herself. He didn't mention any women unless their husbands were particularly high up or family. Even Bellatrix Lestrange, a cousin by marriage to Thalia, hadn't been considered worthy of a mention.

She laughed at the woman's insistence about the bragging being tiring. No wonder her brother fit right in with these people. Thalia definitely had her work cut out for her if she planned to be undercover.

"My father died when I was young and my half-brother, heir to our family name, shipped myself, my mother, and my sisters off to Rouen. Out of sight, out of mind, I believe is the expression you use here." It wasn't entirely a tragedy if Thalia was honest. She didn't have to endure the insufferable attitudes of his children, Alecto and Amycus, a set of twins with a mean streak that made them definitely eligible death eaters when they became adults.

The few occasions she'd had the misfortune to be in their presence she hated it. Even her Lestrange relations, who hadn't wanted to take care of their daughter, Thalia's mother, and the three daughters she'd given birth to prior to her husband's death had been better company than those two.

"Lycus has had a bit of a change of heart recently and invited me here." What went unsaid was neither himself, his children, or his troll of a wife had any real charm. "I attended school at Beauxbatons so the only real people I know is my brother and my cousins Rodolphus and Rabastan," she answered Alys. That wasn't entirely true but Alys didn't need to know that.

"You'll have to tell me how things really run here. I don't entirely trust my brother to give me the full scope of things," she said, rather plainly.

 

[Viverescribere]

Alys didn't dare offer words of sympathy to the other woman after hearing about what her half-brother had done. Not because she didn't care, but because she had to seem as if she didn't. No one else in the room would apologise for her brother's behaviour. Hell, if anything, a lot of them would have done the same thing. She was certain Dolohov would when he eventually got bored of her, except at least it would still be London and not France.

"How kind of him," she drawled sarcastically instead, eyebrow raising once more at the prospect of Lycus Carrow having a change of heart. Despite being one of the many men on the list Dolohov gave for her to avoid, that didn't mean Alys didn't look into the man or keep an eye on his behaviour. She was well aware of his cruel and sharp temperament, often irritated by his loudness and just his overall kiss-ass behaviour. She often had to bite her tongue to refrain from spitting back her own cold words, only doing so when Dolohov's arm was around her shoulder and support was immediate.

However, such news also had suspicion growing within Alys regarding the woman before her. Why would Lycus call his half-sister back to England all of a sudden? Men like Lycus rarely had a 'change of heart' that was due to the goodness within it.

And for the woman to have attended Beauxbatons, not interacting with anyone from Britain, only knowing Rodolphus and Rabastan... it was quite possible that the witch before her was an enigma.

She would need to find out what the Order knew about this Thalia Carrow. She didn't need any surprises after so long in the game. She hadn't put up with a man as disgusting as Dolohov to have it ruined by some random woman who had barely been in the country a week.

"I'm afraid I can't really give you any help with that either," Alys chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly, "No one really knows how things are run around here except... well... Him. We do what He says. What He wants, goes."

The Welsh woman paused, glancing down the table briefly before giving her attention back to the woman in front of her, leaning in ever so slightly, "Don't make eye contact when the Dark Lord gets here either, yeah? Listen and all that, just don't make eye contact. That is my one piece of advise."

 

[merylk2]

Was it the biting but witty attitude or the genuine if aloof way the woman seemed to speak that reminded Thalia of Elise, her former roommate and best friend. A woman she hadn't been able to see in months since her Lycus had commanded Thalia here. There was a confidence Thalia felt Alys exuded that former could only dream of emulating if she ever tried to get past her own cynicism and distaste for Britain. Either way, Thalia decided for the moment she liked Alys, though that didn't mean she trusted the woman or anyone in here farther than she could throw them.

It seemed odd that a bunch of grown men were sitting around here, all waiting for their Lord to come and delegate his wishes to them. Especially men that prided them on their false sense of superiority and erudition. If Lycus was anything to judge by, she suspected every man in here had more pomp than substance. It was truly a shame to see such wealth and power wasted on them.

Then again, perhaps it wasn't so very odd. Humans were funny creatures, needing acceptance. Perhaps if she hadn't been so thoroughly rejected once before by her own family she might be more amenable to all of this.

Likewise, the small family of her mother and sisters who had always been supportive of her, Thalia was fiercely protective of them. Especially Erato. The less she mentioned her twin sister, the better as far as Thalia was concerned. She tried to shake all of this from her head. She was here with a purpose and a mission. She couldn't do that if she spent more time ruminating.

"I suppose I can handle that. Mother didn't raise an ill-mannered hellion, no matter how many times we all might've preferred just that," Thalia replied self-deprecatingly, her voice low in response. Do what he wants. Don't look him in the eye, just listen. Simple rules, simple to follow. She could do simple.

Thalia didn't either of their time with meaningless words of thanks but merely nodded. A proper response given that when she did take a brief look around the room had begun to quiet. Perhaps that meant the festivities (for lack of a better term on her part) were about to begin.