A Ruin

Across the scuffed marble floors, boot heels clicked. With every twitching sound followed its echo. There was a disembodied silence to the place. It was in sharp contrast to the home that it once was. The disquiet of the manor’s hallowed halls belonged to another time, another war. There was no war now, and yet the memory of Christmas wasn’t in wreaths left on the mantle places which House Elves had forgotten to take down. The silver had not been packed away because it had never been taken out in the first place. It had been sold long ago.

The darkness was intolerable. A silvery-white hand lifted into the air and turned so the palm faced the ceiling. Fingers came together and with a snap, bright orange light filled the old ballroom. The mosaic on the ceiling that made it look like a homage to the Sistine Chapel was not so much a calling to God as it was to egoism. Malfoys of dozens of generations and from hundreds of different lines all came together amidst the clouds, the light, and the splendour of the heavens to look down upon their mortal descendants, waiting for them to join them up there.

The ceiling, like many other aspects of the crumbling house, had fallen into disrepair. The glow of the candles seemed to shake the figures into life but they couldn’t find their voices as they looked down upon the brunette staring up at them with cold, nostalgic eyes. She could remember a time when she had stood in the central mosaic, for in this room the true craftsmanship of the manor was boasted of without repentance. She’d held her father’s hand and had been passed off into the arms of a non-descript pureblood with whom, like the other children, she had to dance.

It had been a happy house in that time. It felt as though it was a hundred years ago. Time had altered. Time had persisted. Time had worn them all down. Now, there were no Malfoys in Malfoy Manor. They were all just ghosts. The Malfoys had dispersed, penniless. The only inhabitants were vampires and the wandering hands of Death Eaters without respect of the institutions they claimed to fight to uphold. Upstairs, furniture was under shrouds to protect it from dust. Downstairs, a House Elf hadn’t scrubbed in years. This wasn’t Malfoy Manor.

Pulling a white sheet from one of the ornate chairs she’d sat on her father’s lap while he’d lounged in, talking business with his friends while they smoked and drank whisky that hadn’t breathed in a hundred years, a rush of further pain flooded through the witch who walked, herself a spirit, through the creaking house. Brushing her hand across the front of her dress, she took a careful seat and pushed away from the table the sheet that swallowed it, finding a little silver case with cigar scissors inside, new as though they had been a gift. They must have survived the auctions.

Sighing heavily, Athena Goyle turned the scissors over in her palm and wondered after a time they’d all forgotten; wondered if it would ever come back.

(OOC. I'm so sorry for waiting :S)

Death Manor. Louis sighed standing in front of the building, not ready to come in yet. The building looked almost normal, it looked lavishly and Louis could tell Malfoys spend a lot of money while they were building it, he could imagine this building being breathtaking, once, before everything had happened, before the war, before his birth. Now the building looked empty, sad, ruined. Lack of care and time did their thing and turned once magnificent building in a building no one want to visit. Well, the building he didn't want to visit, at least. Especially knowing what's waiting for him in there, he couldn't make himself to think about them as bunch of persons, crazy and wicked but still human beings, they were less then that to him, ragged dolls maybe, but dangerous ones.

Louis pushed the doors open hating the fact he needed to be in here on the first place. Even since he joined the Death Eaters Louis he avoided coming near this building, foolishly thinking he might ignore the fact he's one of them now as long as he stays away from Death Eaters headquarters He knew he couldn't do that forever, he would become suspiciousand that was the thing he needed to avoid, not just because he's a Weasley, his surname already gained him certain amount of distrust among his fellows.

Louis Weasley couldn't avoid coming here because he was scared they might notice Corrine's absence since they joined together, and although a young Weasley joining the Death Eaters caused more murmurs among them than Corrine Redgrave, and although she disappearedbefore few months he still couldn't stop caring for her. He knew they probably had the list of their members somewhere so they might notice her absence soon, but he decided long time ago he won't be the reason for that, he might felt like she betrayed him, but he won't do the same for her. Not now. Not ever.

Inside of the mansion was as bad as its exterior, every piece of furniture hidden under white sheet made Louis think about leaving some more than the piece before did, yet he didn't follow his urges, exploring every room instead. His mind worked fast making detailed escape plans for every single room he entered, he couldn't wouldn't stop it, not when he didn't feel safe since the moment he entered the building. However, the house seemed empty but that didn't make him any less alert knowing he still hasn't explored the whole house, he could bump into someone every second.

That's exactly what happened, sort of. He turned the knob and stopped at the doorway realising there's someone in the room, he couldn't tell who since the person sat on the chair with its back turned to him but he could tell it was a woman. He exhaled not realising he was holding his breath and entered the room, he knew there's no point in trying to hide, he wasn't pretty quiet earlier so he assumed she knew he's here. "Good afternoon." Even in the middle of hornets' nest Louis Weasley couldn't act impolite. Blame Fleur for that.

Despite being convinced that she was alone, Athena Goyle had to remember that she was never alone and, moreover, she was intruding. At the sound of an unfamiliar voice she shot to her feet, the cigar clippers sliding from her hand and landing with a metallic clatter onto the floor. Her heart hammered within her, surprise lighting her on fire. When her gaze focus and she saw who it was, though, she visibly relaxed. The odd Weasley out – though unbeknownst to her not the only Weasley (or, rather, Potter) in their pathetic little group. It was hardly the triumphant faction she’d been brought up on.

“Good afternoon,” she replied stiffly, bringing her hands behind her back.

Athena wondered what Albus would have made of his cousin stood in Malfoy Manor – err, D’Eath Manor. She wondered what his father would have thought. Indeed, she wondered what Louis Weasley’s own father would have thought, never mind Harry Potter. She knew what her father would have said. He would have laughed and used that as an exhibition of all that was wrong with the ‘light side’ of the magic spectrum. It wasn’t nearly as pure as they liked to think. They weren’t stronger for it, they were weaker. In fact, moreover, it didn’t matter how much they convinced themselves otherwise… magic corrupted. It would always corrupt.

She wondered if this was the case with Louis – or whether he was a lost boy like she was a lost girl, swallowed up by the big house and the bigger families embroiled in a power struggle with no clear winner. Were they both pawns in that sense? She’d never asked after his history. Perhaps this was the opportunity to – not that she was wholly curious. He was as curious as she was about the past, it seemed. Though, this was her past – this room. It was almost a lifetime ago.

“You’re out of place here,” she summarised, slipping her hands into her jacket pockets, the sleeves falling to mask the Dark Mark which, for the benefit of getting through the wards, she had to leave on show – as much as it rankled with her. “Music used to play in these rooms, you know.” She added. “I wonder whether you would have fit more neatly when that used to be.” She rolled her lips together thoughtfully and took her wand from the table, flashing some magic to the lamps, lifting light more warmly into the room, a few sparks shooting off to light the fireplace.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever spoken to you,” Athena considered, her heels clicking over the tiles as she went in search of the gramophone to test her theory. “I suppose you know who I am – if not from our esteemed establishment then because I live with your cousin?” She quirked an eyebrow at him before drawing off the sheet and dropping it to the floor. It still worked and with a bit of fiddling, music began to creak out into the ballroom, filling it with more sound than it had harboured in years.

“Shall we test this theory of mine, Weasley?” She queried, putting down her wand. “Come here. Did anyone ever teach you the waltz?”

He imagined a cloth soaked in turpentine while his thoughts were beautiful oil paintings, but no matter how beautiful the paintings may be, they couldn't avoid being wiped out with the cloth leaving only smeared streaks of thousands of colors, their meaning would be more and more ruined with each stroke of the hand. No one would see their previous look ever again. When Louis was practising disguising it was his way of hiding any emotions that might be visible on his face leaving him only slightly interested for everything that's going on. After he finished his exams, he found himself using the same technique pretty often, maybe even a few times per day. His family always told him his face was like an open book, so he found that necessary. Not only because he found that irritating, and believe him, it was, but also because it made him more safe then he was before, and here, in place Louis could identify with hell, little safety was everything he was yearned for.

He moved away from the door, and stepped further into the room, listening as echo of his footsteps filled this, mostly empty, room. He couldn't not to notice that this single room was almost bigger than his whole apartment, yet while he felt mostly comfortable int he apartment, being here made him nervous, he felt something but couldn't describe what specifically even the chilly air was rejecting.

The woman in the room looked fragile, sitting there surrounded with white sheets that hid the remain furniture and with something made of metal under her feet. Distance between them was too large for him to identify the object, he could see only that it was bathed in the shimmering rays of the sun that was reluctantly running through the dirty window where the torn curtains were letting the light in, it might be anything really, he assumed it was metal because the sound it made when it hit the floor.

Ironic smile appeared on his lips as he forced himself to stay silent when he wanted nothing more than agree with her statement. He was out of place here, it was true, not only here, but in the whole building, with a strange mark he hated on his skin, he never felt more like an outsider than he did here. Death Eaters were supposed be his new family, yet he really liked the old one and didn't want to expand it. He could compare himself with Alice in the Wonderland, he believed she looked better in a dress, though, and Wonderland didn't seemed this unpleasant.“It did?“ He looked around himself again. „Of course it did.“ Louis added silently, that had perfect sense, and explained large empty space that was left in the middle of the room. „I doubt I would fit here, regardless of the time.“ It was true, he couldn't imagine himself visiting his place, with or without music.

„Goyle. Athena, I guess?“ He asked, although he was sure he was right. He knew just one cousin that lived with a person he didn't met although he knew her name, and the cousin was Albus. He learned more about the boy, young man now, in that short time since he joined Death Eaters, than during their whole childhood. Pity, really. He walked towards her. extended his hand, and bowed slightly. There was many thing Louis Weasley didn't know, but Fleur made sure that dancing is not one of them.