crimson shadow coats this town [Hazel/Fenrir]

[Deleted]

TRIGGER WARNING

July 11, 2026

Fenrir Nightshade had been involved with breeding occamy's since around the time that he first joined the main house. He had the process down. He got a nice sum from selling off the offspring, using a number of black market sellers. But the main reason that he works so hard to breed these creatures, was for their eggs. They alone went for a high price, but he also melted them down for the pure silver value. Did he do this himself? Absolutely not. That was what servants were for. It also was a higher price given their source material.

He received word of a metal charmer. Oh the mayhem he could get up to with cursed metal. So he had a message correspondence started. Sure, it was between this person and his trusted maid Meredith. But she ensured to tell him about ever message sent. If there was something that he wanted to say in particular, he would tell her, but beside that she always knew what best to wright. A meeting had been made. It was a hassle that he had to travel to France, he preyed this woman knew English at least. Translators aggravated him. The more they rambled, the more he wanted to kill them. Not just kill, but rip out their trout, and pull their spine out from there. Fenrir sighed at the blissful thought.

When the allotted day came, he made his way to France, and made his way to a pub, where a private room had been payed for. The young man entered alone, seemingly. But Fenrir Nightshade was never alone. The pub seemed questionable and filthy. He didn't mind it, though it was far from the main manor that he had lived in since the age of seven. But none the less he entered the private room set aside, and waited for his guest. The only drink allowed in the room was non alcoholic. Meredith never let him have any fun when he was traveling. The young man dropped the brief case that he had brought with him, and lounged in a chair, brining one leg to perch on the arm of the chair, he slumped and waited. Waiting was so boring. Perhaps he could massacre a few of the bar patrons.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

11 July 2026

Keeping the family business afloat was impossible without Asher. He had always been the central pillar of the family in that sense, the proper eldest son that carried most of the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Hazel had never worried herself about the family before – because that caused wrinkles, you know! – and she’d always left the business to her older siblings. But suddenly Ivy had run off to Brazil, and Asher (the stupid oaf) had gotten himself arrested by the Ministry. He was still alive and kicking, her visit had confirmed that much, but it had been quite pathetic to admit that Hazel was struggling to keep everything running without him. And those nasty columns that the Daily Prophet was writing? There just wasn’t anything she could do about that, short of bribing the right officials. And well, she’d never quite learned how to do that. Asher always took care of it.

But her own side gig? That didn’t require the same business savvy that Asher seemed to be born with (good for him since he definitely didn’t get the fashion gene). All her business took was a talent for alchemy (which Hazel had in spades, thank you very much) and an inclination for metal-charming (the sort you couldn’t find at any respectable shop in Horizont Alley). The black market connections came courtesy of the Burke family name, and Asher’s diligent work when he wasn’t busy being as boring as a hardboiled egg. Now, the Nightshade family…Hazel didn’t like them much. Merlin, didn’t it get exhausting to be constantly cleaning all that blood off their robes? And they had absolutely no social charm whatsoever, making enemies as easily as they succumbed to their darkest impulses. But they were rich and had no problem showing it off – now that, Hazel could appreciate. And if she couldn’t ‘save the family’ or whatever nonsense Asher expected from her while he was in prison, she could at least make a sale or two. To keep the lights on, and the Burke family name fresh in people’s minds.

She at least knew how to take care of herself, and Ivy had gotten it right that staying in the United Kingdom was a bad idea for a while. So she’d made arrangements to teach at Beauxbatons, at least until Hogwarts was restored to its former glory and (hopefully) Asher was back to his dreary old self. The new term didn’t start for a few more months, but Hazel decided that it was absolutely necessary to acquaint herself with all of France’s most posh shopping districts – just for future reference. And after that, be on her way to the dodgy pub her new client had requested. Hazel wrinkled her nose as she entered, turning her nose up at the sticky floor and beat-up bar stools. Merlin, it wasn’t a pub so much as a hole in the ground with a keg attached. How ghastly! She delicately sidestepped some distressingly dirty tables with a heavy cloud of smoke hanging over their occupants, and carefully picked her way to the private room one door over. There was only one figure, already seated, and Hazel gave a displeased sniff as she sat across from him, crossing her legs and delicately placing her new purse on the floor. “You should fire whichever servant chose this pub,” she said critically, shooting a dirty look around the room before her gaze snapped back to this new potential partner. He looked younger than what she’d imagined, although Hazel knew that age wasn’t always an indication of talent. Look at her, after all – baby of the family, not yet thirty, and currently the only Burke still active!

@fenrir

[Deleted]

TRIGGER WARNING

The Nightshade was not just a family but an enterprise. They did business around the world. The main manor was hidden in Russia, where they could quite literally get away with murder, seeing as they had anyone with power in the palm of their hand. Though they worked with others from just about everywhere. All the way from small family run businesses to mafia's, all illegal's and all worked with the Nightshade family. The patriarch handled the big picture, and often sent his living children, their spouses, lovers, and grandchildren to handle whatever needed to be done. For the most part, the favorite grandchildren were sent on jobs of utmost importance. Luckily, this was business of his own. When being sent on business for the family, Fenrir often ended the trip with blood all over him. If things went well, and this girl didn't disappoint him, this trip may end differently. He never dealt much with clean up, that's what Meredith was for. The girl was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to cleaning up after him. He wore the best quality of garments, and often found that his activities tended to ruin what he wore. That didn't matter though, the family had more than enough money, and enjoyed flaunting it.

While the pub was beyond disgusting, there was a part of it that felt like home. While their home was immaculately designed and furnished, the servants had far better things to do than clean up the cobwebs, and discover new places the boggarts had found to hide. As Fenrir slumped in the chair, one leg up on the arm of the chair, he rested his cheek on his fist, his elbow on the other arm. He waited. Thoughts drifting to his favorite past time. Fortunately for the pub patrons, the door opened shortly after thoughts of slaughtering started to dance in his head. She didn't look pleased. He watched her his eyes slits as he observed her haughty behavior. "Places like this makes it easier to disguise intentions of less than legal businesses." He finally spoke, his emotions and tone cold. He wasn't sure how he felt about this woman yet, though she would look better with blood pouring down her from her neck. "If you don't like where I chose to conduct a first business meeting, I can always arrange to meet with someone else. Though that would mean that I'd have to inform my family of your..." He paused only for a moment as a deranged grin came to his face. He had her right where he wanted her. "...preferences. Perhaps black listing the Burke name from any future business." Sure, he didn't have that power, but he was one of the favorites. it wouldn't be to hard to direct their interests away. Though he doubted it would come to that. He knew the situation this woman was in.

"Or, if you'd like, we can always resume our meeting another time. But it would have to be at my family manor." Rumors of the Nightshade mansion were vast in the underground world. Anyone who had been would clearly tell everyone that it would be better to never set foot in that death trap. Their was no way out, not unless you were escorted out. And while you are in there, your life is entirely in the hands of whatever Nightshade family member that happens to be there. Plenty of their long term business partners refused to do business at their house, at least until they knew that they had an excellent standing with the family. And even then, it was a risk. He waited, pulling out his switch blade with is free hand. The wooden handle was eligible for magic, and appeared less magically threatening than a wand, but twice as dangerous. Now he would see what her next move would be. Though Fenrir didn't think to highly of having his time waisted.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Hazel rolled her eyes in disgust as she shot the man a deadpan look at his provocative comments. She supposed he fancied himself a terror, and it was certainly true that she didn’t enjoy the thought at seeing him where he was most comfortable. He sat slouched in his chair, like he was already bored, and the look he gave her was full of malice. Not how men usually looked at her. “So impatient,” she scoffed, brushing her hair out of her face as she straightened in her (disgusting) chair and adjusted the hem of her skirt. His threats didn’t faze her, although she pursed her lips at the thought of losing this sale so fast. She’d seen all unsavory sorts at Asher’s club, bruised men fresh from the illegal dueling rings with cut robes and bloody wands. And the more malevolent players too, their bosses who were noticeably more put-together than their henchmen but with no less blood on their hands.

But this Nightshade was right about one thing – the Burke family couldn’t afford any more disgraces. Ivy had sold out the Purifiers, including her own brother, for her freedom and other purebloods were beginning to hear about it. Asher was unable to squash the rumors himself because he was in Ministry custody, and Hazel could only guess why he hadn’t been sent to Azkaban yet. That left Hazel to keep everything together, and she could feel herself being pulled apart at the seams at the effort of trying. She didn’t need this particular sale, not with her family’s extensive income, but she couldn’t afford to make an enemy out of the Nightshades. But Merlin, she didn’t grovel. She was a daughter of one of the Sacred 28, and she had more dignity and style in one finger than most people were ever born with. “And if you do that,” Hazel began in a smooth tone, already bored with the Nightshade's intimidation tactics and his threats to black-list her family, “You’ll never get to see any of my toys. Shame, that is.”

She couldn’t quite pinpoint his accent, although the family manor he’d brought up was rumored to be somewhere in Russia. Hazel’s own South African accent marked her words, setting her apart from the delicate British roses she was sure Fenrir Nightshade usually dealt with. As it was, this was her first face-to-face meeting with him, having mostly corresponded through the owl post. So, maybe a demonstration of her talents was in order. Hazel leaned over to grab her handbag and rummage through it, eventually pulling out one of her newest creations as she set the bag back down on the sticky floor. She cast one critical glance over the finely wrought pocket watch, scanning for defects in the styled platinum surface -- although naturally not finding any. No, she was too good for that. Then she wound the watch as if setting the time before tossing it at Fenrir for him to catch and examine. As he looked it over, there was a small clicking noise that promptly faded into silence. “It’s empty at the moment, but you can store any kind of curse you like in there,” Hazel said in a bored voice as she examined her painted nails, “Lovely little thing if you want to curse someone five minutes or hours after you wind the watch. Perfect alibi, if that’s your poison. Doesn’t leave any trace behind.”

@fenrir

[Deleted]

TRIGGER WARNING

Women like Hazel thought that men would just roll over because they wanted a little action. Not Fenrir. He wasn't one to be swayed by intimate pleasures. Though he wouldn't be opposed to slashing some beautiful marks into her otherwise flawless skin. She commented that he was impatient and his board expression morphed into a dangerous grin. "Be careful what you wish fore. If I was impatient, I wouldn't be this nice." He had threatened her, belittled, and forced her into an obviously uncomfortable situation, and yes, this was him being nice.

He knew the position he was in, the power his family name held, and the position her family was in. He still intended to have her help him with his project. But that didn't mean that he wasn't going to make her squirm a little bit first. He had threatened to black list her family, seemingly board once again, but as she spoke of not seeing her "toys" he laughed. It was blood curdling to some. Fenrir had many relatives that chose to remain emotionless. It was how they survived their family. Fenrir didn't. Though he rarely laughed, and often sounded deranged. It was true, it wasn't as easy to find magical metal workers as it was to find smugglers, but he could easily put his shadow on that task. But that would be quite a pain. And this girl was growing on him. A dangerous thing.

After laughing, Fenrir calmed himself and lifted his head, looking down his nose at the woman, the gears in his wicked little mind turning, trying to determine what he was going to do with her. As he did, she picked up her bag an began to rummage through it. What did she think she was doing? Though he looked perfectly relaxed he was ready for anything. Growing up as a Nightshade, one developed a special since of spatial awareness. It was important to always be on guard, for cousins and siblings were always around trying to kill you. If this little girl wanted to try anything, He'd swiftly dispose of her body. He watched as she pulled out a spherical pocket watch, examined and then wound it up before tossing it towards him. Fenrir, naturally caught it without much effort and began to examine the item. He wasn't a novice either. The Nightshades indulged in the expensive. Fenrir had grown up with nothing but the best. He looked over every centimeter of the item examining the craftsmanship of it.

After some time, he looked back up to her, and leaned forward, setting the item to the side, on the surface that separated them. Then, he pulled up and placed the brief case in front of him, unlatching and then opening it, he turned it around to show her. It was magically enlarged, inside it was the size of an average sized suite case. To one side was a tied bag about the size of a durian fruit, and the rest was filled with Occamy egg shells. It was a truly impressive amount. "The bag is half your pay, along with a list of items that I would like, along with curses I prefer you to add to them. There's more than enough. The rest, use your imagination. I will not tolerate any thievery. I know how much silver is in there and I expect it all back. I'll pay you the other half upon delivery. If I'm impressed with your creativity and work, you'll earn a bonus." He leaned back, resuming his position of lazily watching her. "Do you understand." He spoke with a dark business tone, with the threat of venom if one were to cross him.

@Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

There were so many kinds of pureblood families out there, and there was an important strategy in choosing who to associate with. Hazel didn’t make those kinds of decisions – she was a girl, and the youngest, and therefore not in any kind of position to dictate what the Burke family should be doing. No, she was permitted her little rebellions as long as she occasionally sat down to do the kind of work her family required. Sometimes that meant going to parties and charming whoever she needed to. More and more often though, it involved her work in alchemy or metal-charming. Hazel knew she was talented, had the kind of head for transmutation that meant she could go far if she chose to. Most wizards didn’t seem to understand alchemy, and that made her services valuable.

Still, getting involved with the Nightshades had been her choice. Asher was no good to anyone while he was still locked up, and he certainly wasn’t capable of making any business decisions at the moment. Hazel had been in charge of all that for the first time ever, considering the second runner-up was her older sister Ivy and she was currently off in god-knows-where avoiding the family after her betrayal in May. If Asher could have chosen, Hazel was sure he wouldn’t want her anywhere near the Nightshades. They were a treacherous lot, and didn’t think twice about turning on anyone they might see as a potential threat. He had some dealings with the family himself, but then again he had so much more experience than Hazel in business. Still, she knew how to get what she wanted.

And in that moment, she knew exactly what that was – make the sale, establish the connection, and never set foot in this dingy little pub ever again. Fenrir was impossible to predict, if only because his moods changed so fast and he didn’t hide any of it. But she thought she had his interest as he examined the pocket watch and brought it close to inspect for flaws. It wasn’t the kind of item you could just stroll into a store to buy. No, Hazel didn’t craft knick-knacks for just anyone – her metal-charming was unique, one-of-a-kind, and tailor-made just for her clients. That was what made her services so valuable, and it usually made up for her inexperience in actually striking the deal. She watched intently as Fenrir set down the watch, her muscles coiled and tense even as she leaned back in her chair like she didn’t have a care in the world. That was the mask she chose to use with the rest of the world, and it usually got her results.

Her eyes caught on the Occamy egg shells, and Hazel’s interest was completely captured. Oh, the things she could do with that silver. Occamy eggs were precious, nearly impossible to find even in the black market, and that made their enchanted silver so valuable. She could create something powerful with those egg shells, and it was with difficulty that Hazel tore her eyes away to meet Fenrir’s gaze. She listened to his instructions, and a small smirk spread across her face. Nobody knew about her special ability outside of her immediate family, but Hazel’s newfound talent for redirecting magic was particularly useful when it came to trapping curses. It set her apart from her competitors, even if nobody could pinpoint exactly why. “Oh, you’ll be impressed,” she assured him, leaning forward to examine the small scroll of parchment attached to the bag of Occamy silver. It was a long list, and there were a few items she’d never made before. The curses were no joke either. She gave a low whistle and let the parchment roll itself up again. “Quite ambitious, aren’t you?” she asked lazily, letting her gaze slide down to her ornately painted nails. Hazel pursed her lips for a moment as she thought it over, then let her icy blue gaze shoot back up. “I have to make some of these from scratch. It’ll take time to find the proper materials.” She paused a moment, then offered a hazy estimate for when she would need to start her school year at Beauxbatons as the new Alchemy professor. “I could have this for you…oh, maybe when the new school term starts?”

@fenrir

[Deleted]

TRIGGER WARNING

Associating with the Nightshade family was a dangerous game that many purebloods chose to play. As long as you stayed on their good side, there was a low chance that harm would come to you. But if they even suspected treachery, or were even in a bad mood, things could turn for the worst. A big reason many chose to do business with the family was simply for the money. The Nightshades didn't blink twice on overspending or simply throwing money at those that pleased them. That, and their influence in the criminal world was rather prominent. It was no secret that they aided criminal families around the world, and almost single handedly ruled over the magical politics in their native Russia. All this power made them dangerous, but they never skimped on a job well done. Though anyone who did regular business with them would warn any interested part to be sure not to get in bed with them, keep the family at a distance, and never, ever, enter their mansion. Well, that is, if you value your life and freedom.

The family name held a lot of weight, but it was also no secret that out of the Nightshades, their family considered Fenrir to be the crazy one. While every child grew up in a chaotic state, he was completely unhinged. But he knew quality work when he saw it. The product the woman allowed him to inspect was impressive. Though he would hold judgement until he got his own products back. Should they be less in quality, she would live to regret it. But if she proved herself useful, he would easily keep her in his employ. As he was regularly hatching new Occamy, for the shells, he always had silver on hand, and extra money for the useless creatures that came out. This was a test. Should she impress him, he would easily have more work for her to do.

Once he had seen her skill, it was time to get to the reason they were here. He watched her face as she opened the case containing the egg shells. The young man's lips twisted into a crooked smile as he watched her. She was hooked. The material alone was rare. Though he had a surplus of it. Sure he could easily sell the Occamy egg shells for a profit, but he didn't exactly need that. He wanted something better. If he then chose to sell it, he could get more for it. He would conveniently forget to mention why he was looking for a meatal worker at this point in time. Though he had been breeding the creatures for some time now. She assured him that he would be impressed, his smile vanished as he looked her dead in the eye. "I better be." Had she not opened her mouth, he would have let any disappointment slide, but she was confident, and that meant that he wouldn't take it easy on her. She best not be deceiving him.

The girl observed the list he had made, and again he watched her read each one. The Nightshades were learning cures before most wizards in the area learned to levitate objects. Fenrir wasn't one who played around with silly little prank curses. That is when his face contorted into a twisted expression. "I hope their not too difficult for you." He stated as he looked down his nose at her. In a business such as this, morals didn't play any role. Talent was all that mattered. He had written down all that he wanted, it was up to her to deliver.

Though it did still seem like the woman would go through with the deal, and mentioned some of the process, along with a time that she should be done. His face calmed as he straitened up a bit. "Time is not an issue. I prefer quality over that, so don't rush. Though if you do plan to exceed pas the start of the new term you'll need to inform me. If you care to believe any rumors about me, trust that I am not a patient person." He stated, looking her dead in the eye. He would wait until her determined time, but she best not push her luck pas that.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Hazel was always looking for a fun time. She got bored with routine, and her life before the fire at Hogwarts could certainly be that. The drudgery had been a constant pressure in her life, forcing her to keep to somewhat regular hours and stay close to the castle on a regular basis. It was all so boring. Most of the students didn’t give a murtlap’s tentacle about Alchemy, and Hogsmeade could barely be called a village – much less a good time. There might be a thing or two about that life that she missed – oh, she missed her sister like a hole in her heart – but the beauty of the fire was that it had given her time and freedom to a degree she hadn’t yet had. There were no older siblings to keep her in line, no strict class schedules keeping her chained to a desk. She could spend days working on her alchemy projects, or days longer on an extended vacation with no inhibitions and certainly no regrets.

That would all come to an end soon enough with the new term, but at least it was a cage she’d chosen for herself this time. Hazel gave a light scoff at Fenrir’s haughty comment and the way he’d mastered looking down on whoever he was with. “You’ll get your toys,” she informed him breezily, tucking the parchment into her purse and flicking her hair over her shoulder dismissively. She did like a good experiment, and it was boring when everything worked the way it was supposed to the first time. Some of the items he was demanding were novelties, items that certainly had no equal out there in the big wide world. That would be tricky to make, since she would have nothing to compare, but that also made them valuable. Oh, people would definitely remember her name someday.

“Don’t get your boxers in a twist. I always meet my deadlines,” Hazel said lightly as she smoothed out the skirt of her dress. She did in fact believe most of the rumors she’d heard about Fenrir Nightshade, and she knew what he was capable of when he was displeased. In fact, it was easy to believe that she didn’t know nearly the full extent of what he had done – and as someone who didn’t like to get her hands dirty, Hazel didn’t much care to find out. She knew Asher was involved in some nasty things, and the Burke name was anything but clean. In that sense, the papers were right. But Hazel had never been fully involved in the family business. She preferred to pursue her own side projects, and occasionally carry out a task for her brother when he demanded it. “So you didn’t start the rumors, then?” Hazel asked cheekily, raising an eyebrow. “I might’ve heard one or two but people can be such gossips. You never know what to believe.”

@fenrir

[Deleted]

TRIGGER WARNING

The life of a Nightshade was both deadly and leisurely. You could do whatever work you wanted to, as long as grandfather approved, and all you had to do was ensure that non of your siblings or cousins got too close to put you in the family tomb. Growing up in a kill or be killed environment made a very special someone. It was only fare that non family members got a warning. One. Most of the time. He smirked as she promised that he would get his toys. He had better. Most who worked first hand with their family didn't want to know what happens if they are disappointed. But there was a good reason why most of their associates chose to meet outside of the Nightshade manor.

She seemed confident about making the dead line. That was good. But he was nice and gave her a warning. "You better. You won't get another warning." There were a lot of stories out there about Fenrir. Very few were over exaggerations. If anything, more played down the truth. There was a reason that the Nightshade family called Fenrir the crazy one. Those that were smart would do all they could to avoid finding out if what they had heard was true. The woman asked if he had started any. He had no need to fabricate things when the truth would be so much better. His infamy would travel through the whispers of those lucky enough to witness and survive. He smiled and shrugged, keeping a close eye on the girl. "You can believe what you want. Just make sure you do a good job."

Hazel Rosalie Burke