A croaky laugh erupts willingly from the man behind me, nearest to the door. He's a man that my Father said was never to set foot in his house unless he had no other choice; Arturus Black.
"So the rumors are true then. And here I thought Destry made it all up so he could get some more power." He laughs again, adding irritation to my Father and to myself. The Black family doesn't often see eye to eye with mine. Never has and never will.
"I wonder what else she can do with the sort of power that the first …rumor, states she'll have." Arcturus Black thinks aloud, a nasty sneer on his face.
My Father rolls his cold eyes and stands up, a cigar appearing in his thin mouth, pretending that Blacks words have no effect over him but I’ve known him long enough to understand it’s just the front that he’s putting on.
He picks up his wand from the mantle, lighting his cigar with it.
"Don't worry yourself about it Black that Girl has power yes. Enough to be used in our plan, but exactly how much doesn't concern you." My Father snaps at him, and then takes a long breath in from his cigar, trying to calm himself.
Black gets to his feet too, glaring at my Father. "And why's that Destry? Are you and your family going to go against the Dark Lord by using that Girl to manipulate air?" He snarls, both men are now face to face, it's hard to say who looks more livid.
My Father glares and exhales thick smoke from his chapped lips right into Blacks face. I can see them both gripping their wands tightly, so tightly that I can see their knuckles going white. Oh, this isn't going to be good.
"I would never go against the Dark Lord! And if I were you, I'd watch your mouth whilst you're in my house or a strong storm might come and strike you down Black!" He spits, his eyes darting towards me with a mad smile. I narrow my eyes at Black in understanding as he laughs falsely.
"Oh really? And who's going to 'strike me down'? Your freak of a daughter? Now that's something I'd like to see." Black carries on laughing, reminding me of nails on a blackboard.
Black scowls at me and, instead of punching him in the face like I really want to do, I just smile evilly back. Oh how little you know Black, if you knew half of what I could do you wouldn't be so sharp with your tongue.
Black laughs louder; this is the last straw for David Broomwell Destry. He puts his wand to Blacks neck, a vein bulging on Destry’s forehead, and Black quickly does the same; no longer laughing.
Haltered is radiating off the two men in big waves as they glare at each other.
"Not that it wouldn't be great to see you two kill each other, but we do have some business here." Another Death Eater, Abraxas Malfoy, says in a bored tone. His lanky figure is sitting rather comfortably in his chair with a blank expression on his sharp, pale, face. The other Death Eater, the one that hasn't said anything since I've got here, has just the same expression but on a darker, larger, face than Malfoy’s.
After a long while of glaring, my Father and Mr. Black sit back down, their eyes glinting with rage as if they are throwing invisible daggers at each other.