Liz has always refused to become like her family. Even though the blood of the Black family flows in her veins. Adopted by Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange after the death of her father Regulus - in hopes of "setting her on the right path" , she st...
(There has been a time lapse here of a few weeks. Sorry I couldn't get that across well).
Liz managed to keep her anger up for a surprisingly long time. For the first time, she felt like a real Black. It scared her to death how much she suddenly enjoyed it. Every time Gregory got too close to her, she took a jerky leap in his direction, savoring his horrified face like expensive chocolate.
Luna and Ginny had tried to call her on it several times, but Liz couldn't explain to them what had happened. How was she ever going to face them again if she confessed to them that she had let Mattheo Riddle make a fool of her? They would tell her that she should have seen it coming - and they would be right.
Angrily, Liz slammed shut the book she had been reading in the library. Something about potions, but she just couldn't concentrate. How could she have thought that the dark lord's son was really lonely? Damn it! She had read too many trashy novels! Such a mistake would not happen to her again.
Still upset, Liz stormed out of the library. If someone didn't make room for her, she simply pushed them aside, regardless of whether they dropped something or stumbled into others in the process.
And then she spotted Mattheo in the crowd coming toward her. He was used to people giving him space. By now he wasn't even looking at who or what was in front of him, but flipping through a book.
Again, that dark desire was boiling up inside Liz. She wanted to hurt him like he had hurt her. Full of anticipation, Liz licked her lips. What luck that she hadn't pulled herself together. That way, no one could accuse her afterwards of targeting him specifically.
Liz lowered her head to hide her big grin as she started to move. With no one daring to get near Mattheo, there was enough room for Liz to make sure no one got in her way. As her shoulder struck his chest, Liz heard the air being forced from his lungs from the impact with satisfaction. The book from his hands landed on the floor with a thud.
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But Liz didn't turn around to see Mattheo's reaction. Instead, she raised her eyes again and feasted her eyes on the horror of the bystanders. Immediately, an icy silence had broken out. The onlookers parted before her, like the sea before Moses. There it was. The proof that Lysandra Black had lost her mind.
And maybe Liz had, in a way. She hadn't just run into Riddle, she'd additionally used an anchor spell she'd actually only learned to never risk falling off the roof again. It was supposed to make sure that one didn't lose the ground under one's feet. That it simultaneously ensured that one gained the upper hand in collisions was a happy coincidence.
*
Barely two days passed before the situation caught up with Liz. Two days in which she had strutted around angrily, like the daughter Bellatrix Lestrange always wanted to make of her.
She pushed away any thought that she might have signed her death warrant. The longer it took Riddle to get his revenge on her, the more certain Liz was that it would be terrible.
