𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

fifty one

Betty wakes to her door being charmed open, or rather, a slam that would rouse the whole house awake if it was a small one. She forgets the insignificance of a lock when the manor she lives in is magic.

A straw of sunlight highlights the disarray of her room. Half asleep, she draws the blanket over her head, hoping for more rest.

She does not bother with the identification of the intruder.

"Enough sleeping," his coarse voice speaks without sympathy.

Joseph Bennett potters closer to her bed, the sound of his expensive shoes hitting the wooden tiles of the room intimidatingly.

Her eyes stir open under the blanket. She takes a huff of annoyance, knowing well it is only the beginning of dawn. She deserves to sleep in, but there is not a choice in the matter.

She flips open the blanket, finding herself glaring at the well-kempt man. "What? What is it that you have to wake me up so early in the morning?"

The man clicks his tongue, resentful of the sharp tone in her voice. "I suggest you get rid of that arrogance in your voice if you know what's good for you."

Betty rolls her swollen eyes.

"I allowed you enough time to adapt. It's time you put yourself into good use," he continues, "Today you'll be under the guidance of Lestrange. The Dark Lord has emphasised that you can be of good use to him with enough training - "

Disbelief runs in her tone as she speaks, "What? I'm not under his orders."

"No, but you are under mine."

She gives Joseph a disparaging look which he pretends to be blind to. "If you don't start doing something that might gain the Dark Lord's favour, I'm afraid that you'll be thrown out of this manor, Betty. Alone. He's already starting to take a liking to your sister's attitude. What with her wanting to be involved."

"You promised me you would leave her out of this," Betty emphasises immediately.

"I did. But there's nothing I can do if you continue being so adamant with being - good." He holds a venomous distaste, spitting the word out. "If you want what's best for her, you'd do something about it."

Betty holds her head in hands, utterly aggravated.

"I feel I've already been incredulously benevolent with the time I've given you to mourn your mother. But that's as far as it goes. No more sympathy."

She retorts, but under her breath, "You know that word's not in your vocabulary."

"What's that?" The bitter glimmer in his eyes shatters her confidence.

She shakes her head dismissively.

"Breakfast's in five. You best not waste my time."

Betty covers herself with the blanket, feeling a blast chilliness, if not from the winter air, from him.

"If you're not up to it, I could always ask Josie. Merlin knows she listens well to me," he taunts.

The hairs at the back of her neck stands. "Don't. Just give me a minute. It's only dawn."

Joseph tilts his chin downwards, considerately. "Don't even think about going back to sleep."

--

The dining table dissipates into thin air as soon as breakfast is over. Betty's unfinished pie along with it.

She feels the woman's beady eyes latching onto her, it does not make her any nervous however, all she feels is hatred and disgust towards Lestrange. The events from yesterday have yet to stopped haunting her.