Welcome to Until The End. We are a moderate Harry Potter role-playing site set in the Marauder's Era. Our plot is generally derived from details in the book, but as an AU site we do take liberties most anywhere we like. Those who died in the books can have a second chance at living, and those who lived are always at risk.
Tom Marvolo Riddle has long since disappeared and in his stead Lord Voldemort has risen, bringing a small army with him. The Ministry of Magic has thus far ignored the growing menace that is the Death Eaters and Albus Dumbledore has taken it upon himself to defend the wizarding community from an evil he knows is building. War is coming. Pick a side!
School's Out For Summer
The Hogwart's Express has pulled up to the station in King's Cross station and the summer holidays have officially begun. What mischeif will you get into in the warm summer sun?
*Coming Soon* - Summer Solstice Carnival
Travel by portkey to the biggest summer celebration in wizard society - The Summer Solstice Carnival! There will be food, games, prizes, fun and more!
I will be his best lieutenant. My loyalty to the Dark Lord is absolute. There is no other that can compare to my devotion. My skills are considerable--and under his tutelage will surely become unmatched. Not only have I been instructed in the Dark Arts since my youth, I have actively pursued mastery of magic that even Dark Wizards often fear. As a necromancer, I offer the Lord not only my service, but the service of the Inferi armies that I will create for him.
What connections do you have to the organization?
There is no shortage of ties between the marked and masked and Bellatrix Lestrange. She is a daughter of the Sacred Twenty Eight. Her political ties with the other families has been strengthened over generations. There are no purist English families to which Bellatrix does not have a connection.
For what purpose do you seek to join our cause?
I seek to serve the greatest Dark Wizard of all time.I seek to serve the greatest Dark Wizard of all time. It is right and just to restore the traditions of old. Proper purist wizarding society has been eroded and degraded by a mudblood loving Ministry. Purebloods are not the equals of those magical theives born of muggles. That is to say a unicorn is equal to a donkey---a vile lie. Mudbloods must be contained and those sympathetic to such animals deserve a slow death so they might come to realize their folly before drawing that final breath.
This cause is a movement. It is a fight for justice. We are at war. Our culture has been invaded and tarnished. Our world will surely be destroyed if someone does not step forward and move to protect it. I am an eager and capable soldier in this.
"... a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty."
[googlefont="Cinzel Decorative"][googlefont="Old Standard TT"]
Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black
~ Dealing With The News~
D e a d.
Bellatrix would read the word repeatedly and yet it still wasn’t resonating.
Voldemort is d e a d.
She threw the Prophet across the long dining room table, scattering dust and cobwebs that had collected there over the span of a month. Black Manor had been empty since Druella’s death, elves and all, and Bellatrix’s recent return had done little for its maintenance.
Rising from the chair with a screech, Bellatrix all but fled from the room, as if getting away from the bold script might make it untrue. She hurried through the Manor, her footsteps echoing against the stone. Bellatrix paused in what had been her mother’s favorite room. The parlor was a splash of red in the otherwise dark house and looked out on the front of the grounds. The house was hidden cleverly on the outskirts of London with a variety of wards against any unwanted wanderers. To them, they saw dense, unwelcoming undergrowth and if anyone inquired as to why the land was undeveloped they were given a series of complicated answers that didn’t quite answer the question and were promptly ushered out.
It wasn’t any muggle who had caused her to stop, however, rather the opposite.
Rodolphus and Lucius were never close friends, not to her recollection at least. They had been somewhat close in their attempts to uphold the Dark Lord’s wishes, but it was a businesslike partnership, one that Rabastan loathed.
So, why the two of them were approaching the Manor, she had a vague idea.
They had reached the front door around the same time she did, heavy gold knocker pulled from Rodolphus’ hand as she yanked the door open and wrapped a thin hand around his arm and hauled the two of them inside, slamming the door hard behind them with both hands, breathing heavily as she braced herself against the sturdy wood.
“I don’t believe it, Rod, I won’t believe it.” She whispered angrily. She felt him reach for her waist, gently turning her around until he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, like the strength of his embrace could somehow contain the rage that made her shake even when she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled of sweat and earth and there was a trace of something sharp she couldn’t identify. “He can’t be dead, Rodolphus.” She was still whispering, her nails digging into the soft fabric of his shirt.
“I know,“ was his only reply and she felt her rage bubble in her chest, and just as son as she’d accepted his comfort, she pushed away, throwing his hands off her before bringing hers back to hit him.
“He’s not!” She insisted, even though he had done nothing to say that he agreed with the news that had spread quick as wildfire, “He can’t be!”
“Bellatrix-” Lucius approached her the way one might an animal, his hands raised even as he stretched out to take one of her wrists to anchor her and make her listen before she started screaming. These two men knew her better than she often knew herself and it didn’t help her outrage. “Bellatrix, we know, no one here is saying he’s dead.”
She cast an accusatory look at Rodolphus and he threw up his hands in response, turning away from them in an attempt to gather up what little patience he had to deal with Bellatrix’s moods.
“The Prophet-”
“We know what they’re saying, it’s not true.” Lucius was tightening his grip on her wrist but she was still looking at Rodolphus while the blond spoke. She wasn’t sure what it was in her gut that told her he was telling the truth, but she knew the Dark Lord wasn’t dead. She knew it.
Rodolphus had finally turned back, and seeing her gaze on him he sighed and came back to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple. Where Bellatrix was ice, Rodolphus was a fire, unafraid of sharing his touch even when she did little to respond.
It was to him she directed her question:
“How do we get him b a c k?”
~ Regarding Andromeda~
Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at the person who had been so brave, or perhaps stupid, as to bring up the middle Black sister. Her wandless magic constricted around the fool’s throat and he began to gasp and grope towards her. She laughed. The sound was hollow and harsh, bearing down on him as fiercely as her gaze. Another spell sent him flying across the room crashing into the wall.
“You do not speak her name,” she bellowed, towering over the crumpled form. Bellatrix radiated rage, but it made her all the more beautiful, as if the anger was her natural state, her destiny. “That slag is dead to me.” The witch spat out the words, each fueled with the deep-seated disdain she held for Andromeda for her betrayal of the family. “I fucking hate her and I will make sure that SHE and that mongrel child of hers burn. She is no sister of mine; she is no Black. My first sister is dead; the woman who lives carrying her name is nothing but a fucking traitor that deserves the worst death imaginable. And I’m going make sure she gets it.”
As the swirl of unmanageable rage slowly faded, ghosts of pain and loss danced in the depths of her emerald pools. “Do. Not. Mention. Her. Again! Do you understand?” Bellatrix transformed from the psychotic rage beast to a human again as quickly as she became the fearsome demon. She offered her hand to the man she had attacked and drew him up. Pouring them another drink, Bellatrix extended the wine glass to her companion and turned up her own, downing nearly half.
“Talk of such things is simply cruel.” She explained, smoothing the front of her exquisite robes. Her voice was softer now; the husky alto channeling Druella instead of banshee. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she brought her wine glass to her lips again. Another glass down she refilled the crystal, letting the intoxication take her away from reality. It was always so difficult to tell if Bellatrix had been drinking. She had such a tolerance, if she was not passed out or puking (which VERY rarely happened), the addict could put forth the illusion of moderately sober. She did not slur. The only truly observable changes were the complete loss of any patience or fuse–of which she had a short one anyway. Drunk Bellatrix was very easy to get angry, but unlike with Sober Bella, the anger passed.
Proof that the anger spell was indeed over came as she continued to speak while pouring herself another glass of the Cabernet. “You should not remind someone devoted to their family of the loss of a dear sister. I have to carry the weight and shame of her betrayal with me every day. Each day she lives is another mark against me–a testimony of my failure to do my duty to my family and my cause. The woman Andromeda is now stands as the perfect example of the perversion we stand against.”
~ Death Eaters Go to the Circus~
Bellatrix arrived at the circus with the distinct pop of apparition. Her husband was on her heels. He liked to pretend she needed protection, but she expected he just wanted to be party to her bloodlust filled deviance that would inevitably lead to her roughly riding Rod. Nothing got Bella going quite like murder. The pop--pop--pop behind her announced a few other Death Eaters, appearing to join the duo as they made their way towards the electric lights.
Masked and dressed in all black, Bella led the pack of her compatriots toward the muggle crowd. She was ready to put on a show tonight. The animals were all herding into the large main tent. The show was about to start. They were right on time.
“Oh Roddie, darling- why don’t you and Dolohov and maybe baby Crouch circle around to the other main entrance- we don’t want our cattle escaping out the back of this little slaughter house.” The words might have been phrased as a suggestion, but her piercing eyes narrowed at him beneath her mask made it clear her words were not a mere suggestion. The trio peeled off the group and did as she asked. Now, she would be coming from one side and her husband from the other. They were destined to meet in the middle in a field of blood of their own making.
She was amped up on cocaine. The energy buzzed through her and she felt so alive. A drop of acid had fallen into her eye several hours ago, so all that remained from the experience was a few trailers in her vision. She had full body control, though. The coke and her well built tolerance made sure of that.
Bella did not bother with the small side tents, but headed directly to the main attraction. The crowd had already filled the space. Rows and rows of seats were crowded with filthy muggles. She strut into the cloth tent, her stilettos magically charmed so they did not sink into the soil. A girl couldn’t have her boots getting ruined after all! A muggle was trying to talk to her. He seemed perturbed by her get up, but not so much as to leave her be. The fool was going on about how she could not enter without a ticket. He got close to her. Bad decision. Words were still coming from his lips as she drew a flash of sliver from under her cloak. Her dagger sliced deep across his neck in an exquisite smooth sweep and crimson gushed from the wound. The man grabbed at his throat as he fell to his knees. Trix kicked him out of her path. Similar fates befell the other unlucky ticket collectors.
“Stay here. No one leaves alive.” She barked at another masked compatriot as her group passed through the entrance. She couldn’t remember who it was and honestly didn’t care–just as long as they did as she said all would be well.
The master of ceremony was standing in a spotlight at the center of the arena. The rest of the space was dark. Bellatrix hopped over the railing in one smooth jump. She extended her wand, still in the cover of darkness and began to levitate the man. She giggled as he began to squirm and squeal. The crowd had no idea it wasn’t part of the show and gasped and even applauded the ‘illusion’. Bellatrix came from the shadows into the light, casting a spell to amplify and distort her voice before announcing: “There has been a change in this evening’s entertainment.“ She took her spot in the beam of light and twirled to survey the crowd. "But first a few rules. No one tries to leave. You move and this happens to you.” She cast a spell at a cotton candy vendor that had not heeded her command to be still, but was still obliviously trying to sell his wares walking up the bleachers. The flash that left her wand crashed into the pudgy middle aged ginger’s back and in a rather spectacular fashion he exploded. Blood and guts rained down over those unfortunate enough to be near him.
His death was shortly followed by another. She shook her head. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not able to follow directions. You all really are mindless idiots.” Someone had jumped up when blood had splattered onto them. That mistake cost them their life as a green flash came from Rodolphus’s conduit.
“Now!" She clapped her hands. “You came here to be entertained. To perhaps see a bit of magic. So, we are going to show you!” The Master of Ceremonies was still floating over her head. She shot him upwards til his body tore through the roof of the tent. She let her magic terminate then and his body plummeted back down, landing in a crumbled heap of broken bones. He spasmed and groaned–on the verge of death, but not quite there yet. He would bleed out shortly. "I just have to summon a few friends first.” She pointed her wand to the sky and with reverence in her voice cast her Lord’s mark. Their little group was to be a distraction. So, announcing their presence was first on the list.
The spell flew upward and through the little hole in the roof she could make out the green skull taking shape. The slither of the snake sent a chill down her spine. Perfection. Now, for a bit of fun. A few dumb, brave souls had lost their lives while she was sending the Ministry their calling card, but now the crowd seemed complacent. Terrified, but complacent.
Alias: [Jade] | Main Account: [@trix ] | Plotter | Over 13 - [Yes]