the unhallowed affair - t.m.r

quand je suis à genoux, tu es comme je prie

"when i'm on my knees, you're how i pray"

July Sixth, 1945

The owl came early in the morning. It had been a long time coming, hadn't it?

It woke Anastasia up- which normally doesn't happen- but she assumed it was because she knew what it was before she even got out of bed.

The Ministry had responded.

Pulling off the covers, she got out of bed, wearing only one of Tom's jumpers and loose pants, rushing to her front door.

The envelope was there, the cream colour contrasted against the dark hardwood floor. She felt her breath stop. She was nervous. Anastasia Lestrange did not get nervous, ever.

Her hands shook slightly as she bent down to pick it up. The Ministry seal almost taunted her. She took a breath, stabilising her nerves. She had no reason to worry.

The envelope opened with ease.

Ms. Lestrange,

After carefully examining your interview and your background, the Head of the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic has decided you are more than qualified for the position. When this letter reaches you, please report to the Ministry immediately.

Best Regards,

Nobby Leach, Minister of Magic

Anastasia let a gasp slip. Relief flooded over her body. Oh, how excited she was. She couldn't wait to tell Tom.

She would tell him eventually, she concluded, rushing back to her room to get ready. While the letter told her to report straight to the Ministry, she knew she had to tell her parents first.

Throwing on her nicest skirt and blouse, she brushed through the soft, light curls of her hair, checking her reflection in the mirror. She fixed the dark cherry-red lipstick on her face, refusing to leave her house with a single imperfection.

Anastasia Lestrange had not spoken to her parents as of late. Really, she never wanted to speak to them for the rest of her life, especially her father. She never hated her mother, but Lillian Lestrange never stuck up for her daughter in the 18 years she lived under their roof. However, she knew her name got her this job, and Anastasia knew there would be consequences if she did not inform them. With a sigh of preparation, she let herself feel the familiar tug of Apparation pulling her through space and time. It was mere seconds before she appeared in front of the Lestrange's main doorway, arching high over her head.

Muttering a quick Hail Mary before entering, a habit her parents instilled in her since the day she could talk, she knocked on the door slowly.

A house elf answered, as expected, and she recognized this one as Zippy.

"Mistress Anastasia!" Zippy quipped.

"Hello Zippy," Anastasia replied."Where are my parents?"

"The Dining Hall, Miss," Zippy nodded her head quite quickly, something she does quite often, as Anastasia noticed.

So Anastasia huffed, straightening out her skirt and mentally preparing for what her parents might say. She hoped they would be proud, as this is what they expected, but she knew they would most likely bring up Tom and the Death Eaters, a conversation she did not want to have.

Despite her parents' prejudice, they were conservative and old-fashioned in their ways. They have never approved of Tom's methods, and almost disowned their daughter when they discovered how vindictive she'd become.