Poetry in Motion

"I say we should not be drinking right now, then something happens, others insert themselves and I cave," Bellatrix muttered half to herself, half to the pounding behind her eyes as she dragged herself out of bed the next morning.

"We always have hangover potions and strong coffee," Rodolphus said carelessly. His muffled voice came from somewhere in the mammoth sized wardrobe they shared where he was rummaging for fresh clothes.

"Always the one looking at the bloody bright side, aren't you?" Bella snarked, and Rodolphus chuckled. "Yep!"

Bellatrix laughed in spite of herself. "Get a dress out for me while you're in there."

A few seconds later, a cloud of black fabric was sailing over Rod's shoulder toward Bella, and with a flick of her wrist she caught it. "Thanks." She was scanning the floor for her bra when a tap came at the bedroom door.

"What?" she snapped peevishly as Rod exited the wardrobe clutching a black robe in one hand and a matching black cloak in the other. Bellatrix arched her brows, wondering why in the fuck it had taken him that long just to find those.

"Someone is downstairs for you. Harold wants to know if we should offer him breakfast," Lyra muttered. Her voice sounded sluggish and a little pained, Bellatrix noted with some satisfaction. That was good. Others should suffer for drinking against her better judgment as well.

"What does he want," Rodolphus asked.

"I don't know," Lyra replied around a yawn. "Something about Grindelwald and international travel. Do we feed him or not?"

"Why not?" Rodolphus decided. "It gives us some time to put ourselves together. Hangover potions are waiting downstairs for us, are they not?"

"Yes. Harold is on it, bless his soul. I'm almost glad I couldn't talk him into getting trashed with us last night, because if his head felt like mine right now, who would take care of us?" Lyra opined. "I did really want to see how he'd duel drunk, though. I bet it would've been bloody epic."

Bellatrix dragged on her clothes while pondering the implications of the current situation around the pounding in her head. Grindelwald hadn't mentioned anyone coming around to their place last night, nor had he spoken of giving them a new assignment. This must be a result of the Murtlap/Fire Crab situation.

"Grindelwald works fast," she muttered to Rod as they exited their bed chamber together.

Rod grinned over at her, casually slinging an arm around her shoulders. "That's what makes him Grindelwald."

When they entered the dining room, they found everyone else gathered around the breakfast table. Rhadamanthus was shoveling fried potatoes into his mouth nearly at the speed of light. Rod grinned in appreciation and Bella rolled her eyes.

Rabastan was hunched over a large plate of food and clutching his coffee in one hand like a lifeline. For her part, Lyra nibbled at a wedge of toast with an ill expression on her face. The new bloke was enjoying his own plate of sausage, toast, and eggs and looking far more comfortable at the Lestrange table than Bellatrix had expected.

He wore Ministry robes and was tall and muscular. Perhaps he was even taller than Rod, but as he was seated, Bellatrix couldn't be certain. His hair was short and dark, and he was clean shaven. He looked around their age.

"So who are you?" Bellatrix greeted in her customary tactful fashion. Rod grinned as the two of them slid into their chairs at the head of the table.

"Good morning, Mrs. and Mr. Lestrange. As I have already explained to your brother, your daughter, your elf, and your bloody spider, I am Roger Bulstrode, head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Mr. Grindelwald has decided that I need bodyguards when traveling and as it happens, the two of you are up!"

"While I am apparently stuck in charge of Azkaban by myself," Rabastan bit out.

"Not technically by yourself. You have tons of prisoners and a handful of Aurors to keep you company," Lyra pointed out.

"And you," Rabastan decided vengefully.

Bellatrix smirked in open amusement as Lyra squirmed.

"Umm, no. Can't do it. The energy of that place… and of those prisoners will really clog up my Aura, and none of you are able to help me cleanse it. I will feel disgusting for weeks."

Rabastan rolled his eyes expressively at the table at large, then fixed his niece with a mock perplexed look. "Did I ever give any sort of indication that I give a fuck about Auras?"

"I'll give a fuck for you," Lyra said firmly. "I am not going into that place."

"But I don't wanna be there all by myself," Rabastan actually whined.

Lyra glowered. The silence stretched as Rabastan waited, making it clear that he could be patient. Finally Lyra huffed a sigh. "Fine, I'll go! But you'd better teach me some bloody awesome dueling tactics."

"I taught you some last night during drunken dueling," Rabastan insisted. "So did your dad."

Lyra nodded, considerly. "I am aware, but see, the thing about that is I was so drunk the memories are rather fuzzy. As a result, I'm not actually sure I could use anything I learned now. So if I go into that foul place, you better teach me something brilliant."

"Right, and you can also practice your Mind Ripping on some of the prisoners if you like. It isn't as if they're innocent."

Lyra brightened. "Alright! I can be down with that."

"Family unity is restored," Rodolphus proclaimed dramatically, then flashed a grin at their guest. "Do you see what Bellatrix and I deal with daily, Mr. Bulstrode? After this, guarding you shall be a delightful breeze."

Bellatrix cackled.

"I must ask, though…" Rodolphus continued as he reached for the bottle of hangover potion that stood in front of his heaping plate of breakfast. Harold knew precisely how much food Rod could put away. "How often will you be traveling, and where are we off to today? Do I need to bring a swimsuit?"

Bellatrix smirked as visions of tropical islands came to mind. The question was legit because during their assignments for Shadow Ops, there had been a few times when they'd traveled to faraway tropical islands to kill someone. To keep their cover, they were told to make use of the amenities, so swimming and tropical food had been enjoyed.

"Nothing as enjoyable or restful as swimming, I'm sure," Bulstrode said drily. Pausing, he lowered his fork to the plate before him as he surveyed everyone at the table in turn. "What I am about to say must stay locked inside your head. Tell anyone outside this room, and bang, bang, you're dead!" As he spoke, he aimed his fingers like some Muggle...what was it called, gun thing?

Bellatrix gave an incredulous laugh. "You're a Mudblood?" For a moment that trumped the fact he'd just threatened to kill them.

"Of course not," Bulstrode sneered. "I'd just use one of their weapons to kill you if I had to do it, because it leaves no magical traces."

"That's smart," Rabastan said admiringly. "If it wasn't eight in the bloody morning, I'd say I want to have a drink with you, but as it stands, I'll need a few more hours before I can justify it."

Bulstrode chuckled. "I think I may like you lot. That's good because I detest most of the people I work with," he admitted drily. "Today we visit the French and American Ministries to talk them into halting any trade in Murtlaps and Fire Crabs for the present. It isn't likely to be easy as losing money, even for their greater good, never goes over well with either of those countries."

"Ah, so we're there to torture them into agreeing if they insist on being difficult," Bellatrix asked excitedly. The day was already improving, and her hangover potion hadn't even kicked in yet!

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Lestrange," Roger Bulstrode said, regarding her with an expression of mild regret that caused her opinion of him to rise a few notches. "At least, probably not. Such methods of persuasion never work well long term and we can't afford anything to blow up in our faces down the line at a time like this."

"So if this is so top secret, why tell all of us," Lyra asked. "Why not simply wait until you're alone with my parents and tell them, as they're the ones set to guard your body? Then you would only have two lives to threaten, which is far less work."

"Because Mr. Grindelwald said that I am to inform all of you due to your close family ties. He knew that you would not be able to keep such secrets from one another," Bulstrode replied and Lyra leaned forward eagerly.

"Oh, this is gonna be good!"