Elvira wanted to try that spell again, and Alvira really didn’t mind if she did; the best thing about a learning wizard or witch was that their fuckups were greatly entertaining, especially when it damaged other people’s property or other people in general. Elvira wasn’t a horrible witch, she learned as fast as her brother could; she was just lazy, and a little too proud of that fact. Alvira was a fast learner, magic was something he excelled at, and it got even better when that change happened to him, or maybe that was because he had more time to himself now, and could focus more on what was important—the thrive of great wizards. Elvira didn’t quite mind much about Dark Arts, she just wanted to strengthen the line to pure bloods, back to the way it was; when witches and wizards didn’t breed with other races, the line would be strong and pure again, and they would once more be the dominant race without any half-bred, Mudblooded filth dirtying the lake. Alvira was the leader in business like he should, and Elvira was the host of a perfect home, like she ought; they were perfect together, and so they should stay that way—plus it would hurt Elvira so to be the one to change the Hertz’ family name.<br/><br/>There were definitely more homes to destroy, Muggles to kill; they should only pray they were picked up and taken in as these ‘pets’ by the other Death Eaters, for Alvira would have none of it, and certainly kill them on the spot. Alvira was caught off guard from the approaching person, not that she snuck up on him—probably just now noticing him and his sister’s form—but he didn’t expect another to come down this way; he could still see the sounds of the other’s destruction, and slightly kept tabs on where he estimated them to be. The new set of footfalls must have been a newcomer to the party, and Alvira looked over to her direction. Elvira didn’t notice as she hummed the spell in her head; she really shouldn’t be so obsessed with it, but she wanted to get it right to show her brother that she most certainly knew how—if she was able to do it at least once tonight, he’d surely be proud of her quick grasp of it. Though Elvira notice the tilt of his head, and her own followed in the direction; they looked at the approaching woman with illuminating eyes, like two cats flashed by a light in the ally.<br/><br/>Elvira smiled as the woman introduced herself, and even dropped a rightfully familiar name; Malfoy. Neither of the set knew the woman beforehand, but they both knew Malfoy—who didn’t? The man was an electric socialite that dragged every witch and wizard’s name into his embrace. Elvira never met the man and his lovely wife, but he still seemed to call on respect whenever mention; nothing much was known of him, but his name, and that was all he needed to be important, really. And since he was important, and Jessara dare to use him in an greeting, she must certainly be important, too; that was logic Elvira didn’t care to disagree with.<br/><br/>“Yes.” Alvira said quickly before his sister could answer; he did mind if she joined them, and he rather she didn’t. Alvira went to grab Elvira’s elbow, but she raised her hand and locked her fingers with his.<br/><br/>“No,” Elvira said shortly after her brother, “not at all, feel free to join in.” Elvira felt her brother’s painful grip on her tiny fingers, and she tried to shake his hand away; a smile still on her face. “How pleasant, Jessara; I am Elvira Hertz, and this is Alvira Hertz.” Elvira greeted, because she knew her brother wouldn’t.<br/><br/>Alvira didn’t need some lone witch following them, not that he cared for her presence, he just had short patience with people, and didn’t do well with them around for a long period of time; plus he sort of didn’t want to stand around as his sister squawked aimlessly with another. Elvira loved the woman's accent, it was beautifully heavy, and it roused nostalgic feelings in herself. They were not German, but they had foreign parents, who didn’t so much keep their language, but reluctantly clung to the accent. Elvira didn’t have her accent anymore, but she didn’t have a British accent either, her voice was hollow and bland, like a soulless harp that breath out its emotionless tune. She was trained in facial expression, that was the only way to pick up any emotion; if she smiled, then she was possibly happy, if she frowned, then maybe it was an upset tone, the fluid bells of her voice was trickery, it might sound pleasant, but it was always that aching feeling that she wasn’t really talking, as if her voice was just a recording that gave off replies. Alvira, on the other hand, was emotionless by choice, his Italian accent thick, he didn’t need his parents ‘teachings’, for he was male; strength and providing an heir was all that mattered. Though he didn’t talk long enough to detect any accent, and his sister was already broken in once he assisted in raising her, so he was the only trace of them not being of this country.<br/><br/>“Have you ever killed a Muggle before, Jessara?” Elvira asked, a twinkle in her eyes, she couldn’t help share her new found accomplishment (though half earned) with another, “Oh, are you one of the ‘Death Terrors’ my brother’s affiliated with?” Elvira just notice her brother didn’t too much mind her talking to the woman, so she possibly wasn’t, but he didn’t say anything when she spoke with August and Lavender, either, and they were, right? Alvira didn't care to correct her on the name, he'd told her the names many times, and also showed her his mark and mask way before tonight, and she always seemed to forget it like the ignorant woman she was.<br/><br/>Elvira surveyed Jessara’s form, and she shivered, she really should have brought her own robes; she didn’t think they’d be outside, and her brother had yet to offer her his own. Though she was fashionably cute, with her starchy dress and comfortably heeled shoes, so the cold was easy to ignore. Through the few houses she raided, only the wind messed with her hair, a few strand fell into her face, but the braid was tight and fresh; her makeup was fine, even without the lipstick, but she still felt slightly bare. Elvira looked as if she didn’t do a thing, which she hadn’t. Alvira began to walk in a direction before Jessara had a chance to answer, and Elvira balked at his long steps away from them, she didn't look over to Jessara as she followed after him, but she expected the girl to follow.