Hera

{Chapter Thirty}

"You know, I'll bet fifteen galleons on the Bulgarians." Came the voice of Barty Crouch Jr., as he lounged on the loveseat across from the grand fireplace, the warm light illuminated his scruffy face, making him look more menacing than before.

Mocking laughter came from the other side of the tent, where a familiar silver-haired woman sat with her long slender leg crossed over the other. Yvonne exhaled a large cloud of smoke out of her blood-red coloured lips. Her low voice was cocky as she spoke, "I hope that you've got those fifteen galleons in hand, Bartemius. The Irish shall be the victors tonight."

The loud voice of Ludo Bagman echoed in the distance along with the loud cheers from spectators. " -- and it's got to be another penalty -- yes, there's the whistle!"

Cassiopeia-Hera Lestrange quietly sat away from them, listening to their banter while she had a thick book in front of her - something she used to distract herself from having to participate in the conversation. She sat within the grand confines of the Malfoy tent, a far distance away from the arena where the Quidditch World Cup Finals was taking place. With her, was Yvonne Hopkirk -- the silver-haired madame - and Bartemius Crouch Junior, a disheveled man - whom she noticed - had a very strong dislike towards all the other adults she'd seen him have contact with.

During the course of the summer, Hera found herself in their company. Yvonne was her new mentor since she'd had her falling out with her aunt, and Barty -- well, she wasn't sure what he was doing there but he did have a purpose, somehow. Often times, she'd be roped into attending the dreadful meetings in her uncle's office along with the adults, who ignored her like usual.

She hated attending the meetings, but Hera had no other choice. It was her duty, as the heir of Lestrange, representing not only her father's bloodline but also her mother's -- it was an honour to be there. If all went according to plan, she'd no longer have to be the one attending, it would be her parents.

The mere thought of meeting Bellatrix and Rodolphus, was what drove her to keep attending the meetings.

There was talk amongst her seniors about Azkaban. The number of Death Eaters were miniscule compared to the large number of followers fifteen years ago, when the Dark Lord's power was at it's highest. Seeing that the Dark Lord's most trusted (devoted) followers were still incarcerated, it was vital that they were present for his rise once again.

It was not going to be easy, breaking them all out of the most secure prisons in the world was not something you could do in the snap of a finger. This roused an ongoing argument among the adults, none of them were able to come up with a proper plan.

But if Sirius and Barty could do it, why can't the rest of them escape?

"Lestrange! Are you listening?" Came the voice of Barty, snapping her out of her thoughts. The adults were both looking at her, making her pale cheeks redden. Flustered, she cleared her throat as she set down her book on the table. "Pardon?"

Cassiopeia-Hera could still hear the loud cheers that came from the stadium, as Yvonne tsked in disappointment. "D'you still think she'll fend well on this mission, Barty?"

It wasn't the first time that Yvonne expressed her discontentment with Hera. In fact, it was so common that she'd be surprised if a compliment ever passed through her bitter mouth. The older woman had taken on the task of being her mentor, criticising her any time she had the chance to.

Barty scoffed at her, raising his hand to raise his middle finger at her, a rude gesture she'd seen him do often. His shaggy head of dark hair turned to look at the younger girl, his beady eyes narrowed. "Listen Lestrange, you've got an important part to play tonight. There's no weaseling out of this, do you understand?"

A bead of nervous sweat started to trail down her forehead, as Hera stared at the man before her. He was frightening, and the task she was assigned was even more daunting. It was her first time being assigned a field mission, and due to her role within the rest of the Death Eaters, she was best suited for what she was about to do.

"You're lucky enough that Malfoy's got his puppets within the ministry, so don't you worry, Lestrange." Barty said, though he was very gruff and harsh with his words, he treated Hera much more better than how Yvonne treated her.

"Don't baby her, Crouch. She needs to learn these things on her own." The older woman chastised him, blowing out a puff of smoke from her lips.

Barty ignored the old hag,  but he looked back at Hera, giving her a small nod, in his own way of reassuring her without having to say a thing.

Hera knew that he had a deep and profound respect for her parents, which explained why he treated her better than the other Death Eaters she had seen him interact with.

She still was weary of him, unsure whether or not to fully trust him. "I'll do my best tonight."