another day

He wanted to call coward on the contempt, but Rab held his tongue—for now. Instead, he crossed his arms against his chest. Somehow, Ros considered Rosier someone of importance within her life. While he personally held the opinion she hit her head too many times, he didn’t voice that. His marriage was to be successful, and on their terms. Playing nice for the most part, considering she was truly a friend—it did ring some importance. “I don’t know why you’d feel the need to bother finding me and congratulating me, but here we are. Is this really all you wanted from me?”

"I didn’t find you, Lestrange, we were partnered.” Hell, he was just trying to start a conversation, a mistake from the start. Evan was an outsider and no one wanted to have some plain small talk conversation with him. No everything was about big moves and the future, one that he had not quite figured out yet. “No, I’d like to get a good mark in Potions too and seeing as that isn’t my strong suit maybe you can help?” He was decent enough in the subject but left the room for the other boy to make a jab at him, anything so they could just end this class with something to turn in.

She’d once believed Regulus to be the weakest link. The sole male heir to the Black family name, much to her disdain, that would surely follow his blood traitor brother out of her life. Yet, with all of her over seeing, the likelihood of that happening had depleted greatly. Only leaving Evan, a disappointment in her eyes. His quiet nature something of a cause of irritability within her. On his best days, he was distant, on his worst days, he was cowardly. However, he was family. The blood that flowed through their veins was something of a comfort to her, however hollowed it may have seemed. Evan was impressionable enough to her to mould and it was this sole purpose in which she’d managed to cling to. His vocals ring through her senses as she finds her gaze flickering from letter, wasting no time throwing it into the flames before them before glancing towards him. A brow raising at his statement, sigh passing through her lips. “It isn’t as if we share one body, Evan. They’re just as entitled to be free on the grounds as I am.” Almost annoyed, she bites her tongue, not wanting to create hostility when it’d become clear he’d sought her out. “Say anything?” She speaks through gritted teeth, inkling of what it is he’s remained so tight lipped about as she narrows in upon him like something of prey. “Now, what exactly would Andromeda have to say to me that would have your blood running cold, Evan? Care to elaborate? To confess?” 

The first words out of her mouth seemed hostile, and it almost comforted him. It was familiar at least and he could lay back into the comfort of it until she decided that she needed to instil some fear in him. That’s what would always come eventually, whether it was Bellatrix or Lestrange or even Mulciber. It was like everyone around him was fighting on who could be the toughest, the bloodiest. No, it wasn’t like, they were. He felt suffocated by it all, going with the group was never enough but now when they were constantly being tested to their limits he felt like he was about to drown. He didn’t have the stomach for violence, while he had an inkling of that before now he knew for sure. He didn’t want to fight, to cut down the very classmates that he walked the halls with. He just wanted a simple life, a quiet one where he could live out his days peacefully and hopefully for a long time. However, he knew by now that was all a dream. “No, but you all are close are you not? I often see you three hanging around each other.” He was testing the boundaries half expecting Bellatrix to bite his head off right here and now. Maybe she would. “It’s not something that serious.” Well, it sort of was, since it had caused a rift in his relationship with his cousin. But it probably was not what Bellatrix was expecting. “I showed her my mark and she wasn’t happy. We haven’t spoken since.”

“Oh, no, it really doesn’t bother me,” she told him, a smile on her face. “I mean it when I say I’m happy. We just haven’t been making a big deal out of it. Daddy is still a little in denial even though it was his decision so he never made an official announcement so the only people who know are by word of mouth and people always put all these constraints on being engaged. It was so much easier to not tell people so that we can avoid all of that.” She looked down, feeling bad that she had put him in an awkward position with her selfishness. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Rabastan doesn’t care, though. And your mother might not even know.” She looked back up at him with a pleading look on her face. “I just wanted us to have a good night. Forgive me?”

As she explained he nodded along, feeling his annoyance start to fall away as time passed. It seemed like they had at least an amicable relationship, and she seemed to be trying to reassure him that it wasn’t a big problem that they had shown up together. At least only a few knew and the one most likely to be annoyed was Mr. Nott if only because someone had escorted his precious daughter to an event. The amount of protectiveness in their family was a bit of an unfamiliar feeling to himself. “It’s ok Ros, I just didn’t want you to get into trouble.” He assured her. “I wouldn’t try and ruin this for you, how about we take another spin around the dance floor to make you feel better? I might even try to dance better this time.”

Rabastan wasn’t too keen on speaking to Evan if he didn’t have too. They ran in the same circles, and if his name protected him it was solely through the connection he had to the Blacks. They were untouchable. “Evan,” He greeted coolly, as the boy approached the desk they were to work at that day. He moved to pull out his potions text, setting it down. The comment to his engagement had him reeling, tilting his head slightly as he looked up. “Doesn’t sound congratulatory.” He snipped with a growing smirk. “Well, that’s for us to know—“ And he recalled her intention that he was important. “And I’m sure you will as well. She tells you everything. Right?” So long as Evan didn’t screw things up for Rabastan, create a headache where there need not be one—he’d be fine. “I was under some impression that a compliment to my engagement would be the last thing I’d hear from you. Perhaps an objection might’ve been faster.” Or he could just go against what Rosamund wanted to be a prick about it.

"I assure you it is.” He had no objections towards their engagement, Rosamund had told him she was happy and if she was happy then who was he to care about the inner workings of their relationship? It didn’t involve him after all. He opened up his potions book, taking note of the cheese-based potion of the day. Merlin, he hated this class.”She tells me enough, what’s appropriate. We’re not attached at the hip or anything.” Evan didn’t like what Rabastan was implying, whatever it was that he was implying. “I don’t know why you would think I’d have any objections towards an engagement that I have no part of?” Engagements were business deals after all and like he’d said before, Rosamund had told him she was happy. This wasn’t the same situation as Andromeda, Andy absolutely hated her engagement and while Evan hated the Lestranges who was he to say to who Rosamund married. It wasn’t like he was her father or anything. 

Where: Chess Club Who: Dirk && @evcnsrosier​

Dirk nodded at Evan when they found themselves against each other for the first chess club meeting of January. They didn’t know each other well, but they were both in Ravenclaw, both in this club, both in the Slug Club. Dirk was always a little wary of the seventh years, simply because he knew Fabian wasn’t particularly close to any of his dormmates and that was hard for Dirk to understand when it was sharing a room that meant he was friends with Xanthus and Gilderoy. (He suspected he would still be friends with Augustus without that, but probably not the other two). “Hey. Happy New Year. Did you have a good break?” he asked, feeling it was only right to start with a little small talk. He dug in his pocket for a spare knut. “Flip a coin for who goes first?”

Clubs were tedious. If Evan were to tell you why he even bothered joining any of the clubs at Hogwarts it would be simple: because of his parents. That was pretty much the answer for everything he did as Evan didn’t have much motivation for things himself. Even still, while he usually hid it, Evan was smart, smart enough to be one of the more decent members of the Chess Club. Today was a match against some sixth year, one vaguely familiar enough. He had a feeling he’d seen him a lot before but he didn’t dwell too much on it, if he didn’t recognize the name or the face than they probably weren’t that important. “Well enough,” he stated vaguely not bothering to return the offer of asking Dirk about his break. “Go ahead, you can choose which side you want.”

Rosamund wondered if she had crossed a line telling Evan about her engagement the way she had. She should have let him know before they went to the Yule Ball together but so wrapped up in the idea that she was free and could do whatever she wanted she had forgotten the impact it might have on Evan. “Evan, hello. I started a while ago. I have applied for the Healer programme at St Mungo’s and any place there will be conditional on good grades. Have you? Is that where you have been all this time?”

She didn’t say much in response to his questioning after Rabastan. In fact, they had not seen all that much of each other over the holidays but she wondered if this was something Evan would understand as well as Rabastan and Damon both had. She smiled and nodded, but moved swiftly onto the topic of Evan getting engaged. “I would say that’s his job, too. Especially if he wants it done now. Does he not realise that most women prefer some wooing before they will accept a marriage proposal that has not been arranged by their parents? Unless you have your eyes set on anybody you haven’t told me about?”

“Ah yes, I forgot that you actually have a plan for your life,” it might have come out a little harsher than he meant to but despite that, he was happy for her. She would make a great Healer and it was good that she had a plan and direction she knew she wanted to take in life. They were starting the second half of their seventh year and Evan still didn’t have a definite plan on what he wanted to do once they left the castle. Probably join the Ministry like his father but he wasn’t sure what department. It was easy enough with his connections to get into the Department of Mysteries or the DMLE and frankly that’s probably what he’d end up doing. “I hope you’re not going too hard yet we have to have some fun after all before tests.”

“Merlin please,” he scoffed. “If I had someone you’d be able to sense it from me immediately, you and I both know that the only people I talk to are you, Andy, Barty, and Lucius.” His little hermit crew left not much room for Evan to meet new people though he did branch out every once in a while. His mind flashed back to Fabian Prewett and their many unresolved conversations. “I’m not sure I’d be good at wooing. Probably make the girl hate me more than anything if we’re being honest.”

She smiled up at him, amusement playing across her lips. “You would probably enjoy it more if you were less determined not to enjoy it.” Sounds ominous. Perhaps she could have started differently, so as not to make him worry before she had even told him but she felt bad for not having told him sooner and now she could not remember why she had avoided it with him. She did still want to keep it quiet for the most part because people seemed to add all sorts of concepts to a betrothal, such as the idea of exclusivity which Rosamund found pointless, and she was aware that it could mean some awkwardness for Evan that she had let him bring her to the Ball. “I’m engaged to Rabastan Lestrange.”

I’m engaged to Rabastan Lestrange. Dear Merlin why did the world always do this to him. He invertedly let out a sigh never one good at keeping his inner moodiness from coming out around those he was close with. Merlin, of course, Rosamund would be engaged, of course he’d escort an engaged girl to the ball. This added a whole new level of problems for him, and he really didn’t need to be in this middle man situation right now. “And I’m guessing you don’t want to be?” Knowing any of the pureblooded ladies none of them wanted to be engaged but he figured that if she had at least let him take her that meant he wasn’t exactly fond of her betrothed. Like anyone could be fond of the Lestrange brothers. “Merlin Ros, you should have at least warned me before we entered the ball. My mother is gonna chew me out for this.”

This was it. He’d finally run into one of the Lestrange brothers, and out of the two, possibly his favorite which wasn’t saying much. There was probably a mutual dislike between the two boys and Evan hated that two important women in his life would have to enter that sort of family. He thought back to his conversation with Andy, to where he reminisced that to be a Death Eater you must hate everyone you were working with and thought, that perfectly explained how he felt now. He’d never warm up to Rabastan and he clenched his teeth as their potion partners for the day were handed out and Evan, unfortunately, was stuck with him. “Lestrange,” he greeted, moving over to the desk his partner occupied knowing it was better than having staring match with him on who would move first. It would be hard but he’d do his best to put aside his ego to get along with his partner. He was used to the others looking down on him anyways whether that was in his head or not. “Suppose I didn’t have the time to congratulate you on your engagement earlier. I trust you and Rosamund will have an... interesting companionship.” He really didn’t have much more to say instead waiting on whatever insult would surely be thrown his way.

It had taken Evan twelve days, almost two weeks to search out the company of who was possibly one of his closest friends. There was always a careful divide there, yes, but over the years Evan had grown fond of Rosamund to the point where he’d even considered confiding his doubts in her. But it had been proven to him once again that that was not wise and Evan had been more reserved on seeking her out for fear that he would get such thoughts inside his head again. And as his mind wandered towards his conversation with Bellatrix not too long ago, some other possibly confusing and complicated developments or not developments had also occurred. “Started studying for your NEWTs yet? Haven’t seen you in a while.” Thought it was partially his fault as he had not sought her out either. He’d gotten quite a lot of lecturing from his father for bringing an engaged girl to the Yule Ball and had been warned to keep a partially low profile since then. Something about not upsetting the Lestrange’s though Evan could hardly care less. “Have a fun Christmas with your betrothed? My father’s been nagging me to find one as well, though I think that’s more of his job to do.” One of the few singles, Evan couldn’t exactly say he was enjoying bachelor life. While he certainly liked not worrying about anyone else he could hardly say he enjoyed life.

The castle was in chaos, much like Evan’s mind. The Marauders were back, or so he’d heard as pretty much everyone was talking about the annoying Gryffindor boys. God, he hated things like gossip, even that annoying girl Bertha had come rushing up to him asking him to sign some petition of hers. He’d ignored her but from that exchanged he’d learned what kind of ridiculous information was fluttering about. All utterly stupid but the chaos did release him from some of his worries, particularly those of Andromeda and Rosamund. But now he’d had enough of the whispers, and he retreated towards the Slytherin common room, recovering the password from an underclassman.

Here, no one cared about things relating to blood traitor gossip. Here his only worry was about his particular inaction, something that maybe he could get more away from if he acted like the grumpy seventh year he was. He plopped down on one of the coaches in the room, noticing that he didn’t see Lucius anywhere. Instead, he found the familiar figure of his eldest cousin, sitting on the chair next to where he’d sat, noticing that his fear of her was lessened. Maybe Andromeda’s words had comforted him slightly by her reassurances that she didn’t hate him, or maybe it was his newfound disinterest in what the other Death Eater’s thought anymore. There was a familiar air around her, the one he’d gotten used to while growing up and while she very well may threaten his life if he continued to be so, useless, as his father put it, it was at least something familiar. “Bellatrix, I see Andromeda and Narcissa aren’t with you.” He wanted to unload his thoughts, wondering if it was helpful or smart to confide in his cousin. She actually might be helpful in this situation. “Did uh, Andy say anything over break?”

Calling any of his fellow Death Eaters a friend of his would be a vast overstatement. There were a few exceptions of course, like Barty, Lucius, and Rosamund, the latter two being quite the social butterflies. Lucius always knew exactly what to say, something that once Evan had prided himself on as well but over the summer he’d seemed to have lost his skill. Maybe the nervousness of his decisions making him second guess the words that spilled from his mouth. And then there was Rosamund, she too knew what to say but maybe it was her gentle warmness towards those she considered her friends or allies that drew people towards her. She reminded him of Andromeda, the warmness that seemed almost unreal for someone who bore the dark mark. But he knew of the things Rosamund was capable of doing and to underestimate her was to make a deadly mistake.

Usually, at least for the past few months, being around the other Death Eaters made him nervous but something had changed over the break. Maybe something had changed since his fight with Andromeda. He just couldn’t find himself the energy to give a fuck, and when he spotted the familiar figure of Mulciber, he found himself walking towards the boy rather than away from him. “Mulciber,” he greeted with a nod. He sat down casually next to the Slytherin finding it was probably better than standing. He was itching to take advantage of the new chaos of rumors spreading across the castle, to do something stupid that would make him forget he could have ever chosen a different life. Something to forget. “Have you heard anything from anybody else? I’ve been fucking bored all year.”

She didn’t make much outward sign of celebration, save for a smug smile, but she felt victorious when he stood. Hand in hand, they walked together past another table to the dance floor where Ros faced him and stepped into hold. “See,” she said, quietly, as they started to move, “it’s just us, now. Nobody will try to talk to us here. It’s the best way to control when you want to mingle and when you don’t.” It wasn’t the only reason she liked it — as much as her father disapproved of the arts, that what how much Rosamund adored them. The simple idea that there existed things in this world for no reason other than beauty and expression and enjoyment. Music and dance fell into that category for her. Often, she would be happy to fall quiet, perhaps even close her eyes if she had a little more faith in Evan’s dancing abilities and immerse herself in the moment. As she had said, though, this was now a time it was just them, despite the couples around them, and there was something Evan should know as he was there with her. “Evan… I have to tell you something but before I do, I want you to know I’m okay with it. Happy, even.”

“You keep trying to spin this into a better light but I don’t think I’m convinced yet.” He chuckled a little bit, for once trying to make the best out of a situation he didn’t want to be in. Ros brought out the best in him, he couldn’t deny that. She made him want to be less grumpy, think about the hope of the future. She was a great presence in his life that lifted him out of a dark, like Andromeda, though recently his relationship with his cousin had grown quite tense. Just the thought of it again brought a shadow over him. Before he had considered voicing his doubts to Rosamund, she was someone he trusted, she was someone he thought might understand But well, he had thought that about Andromeda and that hadn’t gone so well. “Sounds ominous, what is it?” He asked hesitantly. He was happy here, with her and he didn’t want to ruin it just yet. But maybe she’d say something good, he could hope, couldn’t he? Would the world punish him again just for hoping?

Andromeda wouldn’t heed that, she didn’t answer him. She didn’t want that. That hovering persons and loose tongues would’ve told anyone. That she wasn’t sure if it was a trusting nature, or the willingness to see the good within all the bad that people pointed towards her. The way people looked at her and considered her just as evil. The pill was as hard to swallow as the truth. That she felt inflicted, hurt deeper than anyone would’ve ever known. “I’m—I’m so—sorry, I just—“ She could do nothing from her pitch but gesture to his forearm.

“Evan—“ She whispered his name, and all that had to be said fell in a single syllable. How she wished he hadn’t. How everything seemed to change but the signs were coming to light. It was fear, pure, deep fear that rose to the surface. How she wished she could just vanish it off his skin, allow the sign to disappear. That she expelled everything that settled within, all those fretting fears that she knew shouldn’t have come to light but did. Because she was scared. For herself, and now Evan. For her sisters, for Sirius, for Alecto. The world was changing. “You should’ve told me. I—I could’ve—”  Could’ve done what? Taken his spot? Violated her body in the tact that it might’ve saved him? Put in a good word, pleaded with her parents for it to be stopped, knowing her head would’ve been on the line? Her voice was shattered, resolve broke in front of her cousin. The words were futile. She didn’t say anything, tears rolling down pale cheeks, as she hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand.

They both saw what happened to people in their families when someone chose to run.

“Don’t say that—“ She reached out, hands trembling as she hastily rolled down the sleeve to hide the mark. “We’ll get it off.” She begun the line, knowing she didn’t believe it. Knowing there’d be no chance in hell they could, knowing he didn’t have a mark. Her head shook, not looking him in the eye. It was Evan. It was Evan, how could they do this to him? Hands shook, unable to keep steady. “We’ll get it off, I’ll find a w-way to—to get it off, you need to get it off—I won’t—I won’t let you be like them.”

You know I’d be fucking dead by now if I didn’t have this mark. Her movements froze. If she looked him in the eye, she’d snap. That tears dried up, and a sickened sense fell over her whole body. That she wondered and feared the very thing she knew hanging over her head. If she wanted to be free, she’d seek the same sticky end as Sirius. Perhaps less forgiving. When her family sunk their hooks into you—that was it. You belonged to them. Swaying on the spot with the admission, she finally looked up. “I’m not going to let you die for some silly war, are you out of your mind?” She shook her head. “Who else, Evan?” She whispered, hoping to all the stars it was him. “Who else do we know has this?”

Her words fell on deff ears, Evan physically recoiling his arm further away from her as she motioned towards it as if she was hurting him. Maybe this is what he’d been waiting for. A push in any direction, the most likely being Voldemort’s of course. Maybe he’d been waiting for someone else to make the decision for him and now Andromeda was taking the first steps towards that, her anger and disappointment pushing him towards a side he’d never be able to turn his back from. Never be able to escape.

This time he closed his eyes, taking a step back from her, trying to shield himself from something, anything. But she caught him, rolling down his sleeve to hide his mark. Shame. He hadn’t wanted to make the decision, he didn’t like making the decision to get it carved into his body. But the shame that came rolling off her hurt him like no other. Like maybe he’d been wishing that she’d be able to understand, to not condemn him for doing what he thought was necessary for survival. “Andromeda,” he said calmly, stating her full name. “There’s no way to get rid of it.”

Joining the Death Eaters was a life long commitment. He’d gone too far, left to a place he could not run from anymore. These delusions of being able to escape we’re starting to feel silly and far away. Looking back at her he wanted to wipe away her tears but he let his arms lay limp at his side. She had inadvertently pushed him away with her first reaction and all he was doing now was protecting himself. He wasn’t prepared to defend himself against her and knew just like his thoughts about escaping this war his efforts and building any walls she couldn’t climb over were futile. Andromeda meant too much to him for him to give her up, but he certainly would never forget this conversation. There was nothing he could do to forget her screams. what the BLOODY hell do you mean YOU DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE? 

“You don’t want to know the answer to that Andy,” he warned her. And he didn’t want to tell her. If she reacted anywhere near the way that she had a few moments ago telling her that her own sister, her cousins, her friends held the same mark would not go well. He didn’t want to go through a repeat and he most certainly didn’t want to be some kind of snitch. And when it actually came down to it, deep down inside, she could probably tell who wore the mark already. “You shouldn’t go around digging for information that will just hurt you.” And information that would most certainly put her in danger.

He pulled back further, everything in his body telling him that it wasn’t time to leave yet, that he shouldn’t leave things unresolved. But he didn’t want to stay, he didn’t want to do this back and forth with Andromeda to only leave them both crying in the end. He couldn’t, wouldn’t lose it today. “I should get going, I told–” he stopped himself before speaking a name, not wanting to give Andromeda any thoughts towards who also held a mark on their arm. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Bella prefers few within her circle.” That seemed like a legitimate answer, a logical one. A small laugh—it was comforting, that in her effort of fear, she was surrounded. “Don’t let Rod hear you speak like that. Or Rabastan.” She warned him gently. “I fear what opinions might come by way if they heard such a thing.” But it was more than that. That if she needed someone to run to, to do the job, get it done in one moment, one flash—there’d be no one more willing and ready than Bellatrix. She smiled slowly at the quip. Besides, I’ll always call you a Black. Something about that was oddly comforting, given the bleak future.

But when she’d asked him, she wanted everything in her to say he hadn’t. That he was safe, he was far away from the turmoil of the idea, that he escaped it all, that he didn’t want it. Feeling so alone within her world, Sirius on the other end of a veil where she couldn’t reach for him. Evan seemed different, even if she didn’t want to ask. I’m sorry. It was the echo of silence, that chill that ran down her spine at the sight of it. It laid there against his forearm motionless. Motionless, wide eyes stared at the Mark. The mark. That entitlement alone had her wanting to vomit.

For a second she’d forgotten they were in the Library. She’d forgotten the restricted section, she’d forgotten her voice, her tact, that impending fear that lingered in her very core, as a look of anger turned to a look of rage, fueled by desperate wish that he hadn’t taken the mark. “Didn’t have a choice?” She repeated slowly, wondering if she’d heard that right. “Didn’t have a choice, what the BLOODY hell do you mean YOU DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE?” That reaction was of fear. Pure fear. They got him. It was all she could think of, eyes pooled with tears.

"Let them hear,” Evan waved off her concern. Evan was far from one of the most dangerous death eaters and the Lestrange brothers were far towards it but he couldn’t find himself caring how they’d react towards his disapproval of them. Their whole world was filled with disapproval to a point where it almost seemed like an initiation ritual. Like you could only be part of the pureblood cause if you hated at least seventy percent on the group you were working with.

The warm feeling quickly vanished when he saw her expression change, instantly letting his marked arm drop to his side and out of her sight. It was what he had feared, what he’d known would come. Just before when he said he didn’t know her allegiance, well, deep down inside of him he’d had an inkling. She was too kind, too kind towards others and towards Sirius. She would never have let this fly but did she scream so loud when she knew her sister was one of the most dedicated? That her parents and her aunts and uncles funded and were the most loyal of followers? Why now? Why for him? She should have known.

“You know what I mean,” he growled, his tough and lonesome wall already forming around him. He was biting back the words he wanted to say, the words that he knew would make the situation all the much worse. He didn’t have a James Potter to save him, he didn’t have an older sister to deflect the gaze. His father was one of the originals and there was no crack or hole Evan could hide in to escape. It was either join or die. Andromeda could never understand, his father was already disappointed enough in his inaction. He was already scared enough that one day Bellatrix or Antonin would decide his negligence was worthy of death. He had no one on the other side to save him, to take him in, to want to take him in. “You know I’d be fucking dead by now if I didn’t have this mark.” It was too revealing of a statement, even in his anger he was revealing too much. That he didn’t have a choice, that he’d be dead. None of these exactly the most loyal of statements towards Voldemort but maybe all he needed was that black mark on his arm.