"even more reason to do it. the ICW would have to scramble for *some kind of response." he contemplates his words, "or perhaps the easiest, quickest method would just to do it and leave you here. they can wrap you up in a body bag next to dear old Horace."

"is this your attempt to buy your way out of this?" a disappointed chuckle and shake of his head. "if this was just about money, I'd go rob a bank." finally he stands, removing his wand. "sorry about this, it might hurt."

"nyet, princess, I am done with niceties." his wand sends out a spark of red light: the torturing curse.

he's grinning now. he adored fights. he had been itching for some action, for something to get his blood pumping and heart racing. nothing came close to this. another spell shot her way. "I could have poisoned you. that certainly wouldn't have been as gentlemanly."

and yet it wasn't me locked in her cell

okay but why use a needle when you can use a dagger

I literally didn't mean stabbing the fabric

uh huh excellent whatever

I have my hobbies

clambering up onto the roof. he could not be more angry if he tried. this was supposed to be simple. she was a fucking pampered princess with minimal combat experience and he couldn't even dispose of her. he hears the click, turning instinctively to the sound.

"actually I used to do ballet," another time, another life. fucking fucking fuck. this is why he cant fucking stand the English.

THIS STUPID MISERABLE FUCKING UGLY ASS COUNTRY I HATE IT HERE

that's all the break he needs. he sprints to where he can climb down far enough that he won't drop too far to the ground. and now they can observe Andrei Dolohov legging it off the premises. not his finest hour.

((Andrei on twitter: plotting to kill people, setting things on fire, making poison gadgets Andrei elsewhere: gets roasted because of one photo where he has sideburns))