Rabastan Lestrange

Narcissa’s eyes were intent on Rabastan’s as he uttered that he’d thought about them having a future together too. She shifted some in his lap. This wasn’t a conversation you had horizontally. Sitting up, the blonde’s hands settled upon his shoulders as she nibbled on her lower lip. To voice what she was thinking had the capacity to change everything. Even offering the idea up that maybe she had an alternate ending was terrifying. It gave Rabastan something to use against her if tides changed. “-Sometimes I wish I’d gotten to choose for myself who I spent the rest of my life with.” The blonde whispered. It was a half admission. It wasn’t telling him that the last few months made her want to be with him in a more official capacity, but it let the idea that she felt that way breech his thoughts. “That’s why I asked.” Another set of whispered words fell between them before she reverted back to silence for another passing beat.

“Thank you for promising me that.” Whispered words were full of pent up emotion she was scared to let surface. “You have no idea what a relief it is to know that you’re safe.” Cissa told him. He was one of the few people she couldn’t imagine her life without. To lose him would certainly be a crushing blow, and it wouldn’t be something she recovered from. Even before their relationship had turned romantic, Narcissa had considered him to be her best friend. They’d grown up at Hogwarts together and with Bella and Rod’s engagement, had spent ample hours at each other’s side. It was no secret their lives were permanently intertwined.

Pulling back from their kiss, Narcissa hesitated, reaching forward to caress Rabastan’s cheeks she nodded slowly.  It was another silent promise that she’d stay safe for him.

Narcissa sat back up briefly in the bed, adjusting the pillows the way she liked as Rabastan ushered the chess board into the bedroom. Pillows fluffed, the Black sister sank back down and allowed her long, blonde waves to sprawl out around her. “Ask and I shall receive.” Narcissa whispered back to the younger Lestrange as her pearly whites teased her lower lip. “Can you come to bed already, then?” She teased, patting the space adjacent to her affectionately. He’d been out of her orbit for too long, and she wanted him back. Narcissa forgot how the rest of the world seemed to melt away in the other’s presence. All she worried about when she was with him was their closeness and happiness. It was a reprieve like no other, and she treasured their time together more and more.

Narcissa curled up in the blankets, rolling over to watch Rabastan shed his boots. Small fingers appeared from below the blanket, reaching out to run against his hip as she tilted her head up some to listen as he spoke. “Aw, I’m sure I’ll let you win eventually.” Narcissa teased, slipping her fingers through the loops of his pants to gently tug him closer to the bed. “You’ll stop playing with me if i always beat you, and we can’t have that.” The blonde murmured as his body prepared to move onto the bed.

A soft giggle escaped as he made about climbing over her tiny frame. “-Rabastan.” She managed, though his name was barely intelligible through her fit of laughter. Her lips parted, accepting his kiss with a warm hum. He left a smile on her lips as he pulled back, and she rolled over to face the chess board. Two fingers closed around the top of a pawn, moving it forward as her smile evolved into a smirk. “-But if we go slow, it’ll be so much more fun.” The blonde teased, overturning her non dominant hand over for him to take. “And it’ll give you a chance to reclaim your honor too.” Narcissa grinned, nudging the board a bit to remind him it was his turn.

Rabastan had never been faced with the certainty of a pre-ordained future. Sure, the list of expectations for the second son of the illustrious Lestrange family was long and occasionally contrary to what Rab would’ve perhaps chosen otherwise, but he hadn’t been presented with something so concrete as an arrangement for marriage signed off on when he hadn’t even received his Hogwarts letter with the morning post yet. Some of his circle had not been granted that same freedom. Narcissa spoke and Rabastan’s expression was all quiet solemnity. He had never experienced the inevitability of such a future as that pressed upon Narcissa- as much as he sympathized with her situation, he didn’t think he could truly empathize. It was hard to grapple with something so monumental without experience to inform your understanding. And so Rabastan, who used had always used his eloquence as both a weapon and a shield, was at a loss for words. Returning Narcissa’s gaze as if he might see something to confirm the words she left unsaid written on her face, Rabastan let the quiet fall between them before nodding. 

“I hope it’s a promise I’ll never have to break.” After he’d regained consciousness in St. Mungo’s that final time, when everything slotted into place and time started to move normally again, Rabastan had seen Rodolphus’ distress and been filled with a stomach-churning guilt. The thought of breaking his promise to Cissa inspired no concern over the fact he would be dead, instead provoking an echo of that same guilt. Rabastan could think of very little worse than the people he loved being hurt because of him. 

Narcissa’s fingers against his hip, and then hooking with a familiar ease through his belt loops, were a welcome distraction from unlacing his boots. Rabastan let them rest where they fell haphazardly beside the bed and let himself be tugged forward by Cissa’s insistence. Not that he needed much convincing at all to join her, especially when she was looking at him like that from where she was curled under the covers. “I await the day anxiously, I really do. Though I’m not entirely convinced this isn’t just a clever ploy to keep me playing, expecting someday I might win.” He wasn’t actually that bad at chess. But he wasn’t particularly good either, though, the game hadn’t held his attention when he was young and only did now when accompanied by good conversation. And other incentives, of course. 

As Narcissa dissolved into laughter below where he was crowded over her frame, Rab leaned back slightly to watch her with the sort of gently private smile that one wears when they don’t expect to be seen. Narcissa earned a lot of these secret smiles. It didn’t fade until he pulled away from the kiss he’d dropped to her lips, resonating with the warmth of her hum. 

If Peter had any sort of social life he’d probably have an appointment to keep but all he had waiting at home were several books, a few music records and a few new spells he ought to try out. He wasn’t exactly busy outside of work and ironically the life of a qualified apprentice was a great deal less strenuous and work-load heavy than the life of an applicant. After four years of feeling crushed under assignment after assignment he now had an abundance of free time and little in the way of social engagements or hobbies to fill it with. As hard as he’d worked to get this job he didn’t want it to define him; so the slowly increasing prospect of making a new friend in this handsome, confident man held appeal. Maybe he could look upon him as a colleague, as an equal.

Feeling relief that the man chuckled at his remark Peter relax a little and the white-knuckle grip his other hand had taken on his thigh relaxed, “It sounds insane enough to just about work, and lets face it, it doesn’t as though most departments are happy to talk with one another.” Departments on one level seemed willing (if not happy) to communicate but when it came to other levels they may as well not exist for all they were contacted. “Nice to meet you.” he nodded, albeit a little jerkily, “Shouldn’t we wait for the third date before pulling out the nicknames?” He surprised himself with that one, Sirius would be proud… Though he already worried his joke had pushed things too far as the other released his hand which he shoved resolutely back in his pocket.

“O-oh, that would be great, I’d appreciate the company.” he said, trying not to sound too relieved as he tagged along with Rab, “Thanks! It wasn’t a great deal of fun.” he nodded, “More than once I was convinced I was gonna lose a limb or something but I pulled through.” he smiled, unable to hide the pride in his accomplishment, “What department are you working in?”

“Laziness isn’t even a particularly good excuse- there’s any number of means to contact people from other levels without even leaving your office. And since we’re obviously in agreement that that’s the way of things, I don’t think the labyrinthine architectural choices have done their job very well. This meeting excluded, of course.” It had only taken a handful of months into working at the Ministry full time for Rabastan to jump at the barest hint of an opportunity to go to another level and poke around a bit. Working in close quarters with the same people for too long was mind numbingly dull.

Rab’s laugh, when the man- Peter- threw back a quip to match his, was genuine, tinged with a sort of pleased surprise. Even as the wizard drew his hand away and shoved it back into his pocket with an abrupt movement, Rab flashed him a smile. Happening across the man had been a lucky turn, this was the most interesting thing that had happened if not that day, than in the past few hours. “I move fast, dear. Though I’ll romance you if you like.” His tone was all sarcasm, smile replaced with an ironic sincerity. In a way, Rab romanced everyone he met by default. It was much easier to move about in the world when people liked you, or found you charming. Much easier to get what he wanted if people wanted to give it to him.

“Wonderful.” Rabastan nodded along as Peter spoke, walking down the hall in no particular rush, “And now you’re here. Presumably still in possession of all your limbs, too, which is clearly a success.” Rab’s smile twitched broader at Peter’s question. “Ah, see, that’s where it gets complicated. None. But I’ve worked with nearly all of them now. I’m a curse breaker- when the Ministry stumbles upon something that puts them in a bit over their head they come to me. Not just the Ministry, of course, I do take other jobs, but you’d be surprised how often an item with a nasty curse on it turns up in a filing cabinet on floor three or what have you.” 

Yup, this guy had an aura around him that reminded Peter of James, Sirius and Remus. He had a easy confidence to him as though the world wouldn’t dare do him wrong and everything would go his way simply because he believed it. They may have looked similar, in that they were both good looking (now for him anyway) men who worked within these walls yet he still couldn’t help but feel lesser. He was just waiting for a sneer to appear on his face or even if he was friendly it would come with some small backhanded compliment akin to those his friends often pulled. It was okay, he was used to it but the waiting for the comment to come was the worst part. He guessed in the few moments he’d approached and talked to the guy that he’d assessed who Peter was and any moment now he’d be told to deal with it himself and Mr. Confidence would continue on his perfect way with the world at his heels.

“O-oh.” He blinked a few times at the polite response and wondered if the guy was still talking with him? “Y-yea I guess they did. Either that or they really wanted to force strangers to talk to each other to find the way out.” he added a nervous laugh following his attempt at humour. He forced the hand down from his neck and stuck it in the pocket of his robes before it did anything else, “I’m uhh, actually trying to find the way out. You see I’m the new apprentice with the Hit-Wizards on level two and I uhh, well I’m having a hard time finding much now I’m not with a pack of other applicants.” There’d been over a dozen of them when he’d started and now it was just him, maybe he was subtly trying to brag about that, he wanted to show he was worthy of some respect. “So, uhh, yea a little help would be great. And I’m Peter, but the way, Peter Pettigrew.” he nodded, the hand hiding in his pocket came out to offer a shake, still worried the other might smack his hand away.    

Rabastan watched the wizard before him with an assessing eye hidden behind a kind smile. He had absolutely nowhere to be, which was good because the skittishness of his newest acquaintance was bringing to mind an easily spooked animal, and Rab welcomed the diversion. The man was interesting enough, after all. It was the work of moments to determine why he was there- his Hit Wizard pin had pride of place on his chest- but as much as he seemed, at first glance, very like the general sort the DMLE went for, the differences magical law enforcement types Rab had met before was obvious after less than a minute of his talking and shifting about as if someone might scold him at any moment. He was a curiosity, that was undeniable. 

The man laughed, the sound almost questioning, and Rabastan let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head, “That’s got some merit. In all seriousness, though. I wouldn’t put it past the Ministry to try to promote cross-departmental collaboration by way of questionable architecture.” As the man continued, Rabastan nodded along slowly, lips twitching back up into a smile as the wizard introduced himself and held out a hand. Rab took it firmly, shaking, “It’s a pleasure, Peter. I’m Rabastan Lestrange, though Rabstan will do. Rab if you’re feeling familiar.” He winked, and then snorted out a quiet laugh, letting the hand shake drop and turning slightly to look up the hall. 

“We’re not too far from the atrium, I’d be more than happy to walk that way with you. If you’ll have me along, of course.” He started walking, steps measured, he wasn’t in any particular hurry to reach the atrium and part ways just yet. “So, apprenticing with the Hit-Wizards? I’ve heard that’s hardly a walk in the park; congratulations.” 

She didn’t like Lestrange, and not just because he used fuck her arch nemesis, but because he carried that same self-entitled air about him as the kid’s who used to mock her. Like he was entitled to this place, just because he wanted it. It just rubbed her the wrong way. Luckily, preservation skills were her fortay.

“You’re welcome,” she said, tipping her class at him, when they both knew she hadn’t a choice in the matter. But if he was sitting at her table, it wouldn’t hurt to play nice with the brother of the favourite minion, now would it? She could go back to reading her book, but the atmosphere had been lost. “Fairly often,” she shrugged, her gaze shifting back from the barkeep to land on him. “Perhaps more than I should.” It beat drinking alone. There was something sad about sitting at home alone and drinking - at least coming to the pub was something that was socially accepted as normal. “People leave you to your own devices here,” her lips curled into a wary smile, “or they usually do in any case.”

Pleased that he’d raised his glass back at her, she lifted her glass up and took a healthy swallow, humming around the taste. She’d honestly thought he’d leave before agreeing (and really, any option he chose would’ve been win-win; either he left and she got her table back, or he stayed and she got drunk) and she found herself pleased at the turn of events. It wasn’t particularly a bright idea to go around getting drunk with someone like him, but she wasn’t a lightweight and she knew how to take care of herself.

She cocked her head to the side, innocence defined. “Then finish that piss water you call a pint and go get something else.”

“Everyone has places they go, or things that they do, more than they should. If yours is reading in drinking establishments of the not particularly reputable sort, well, you could do much worse.” Rabastan’s expression, vaguely amicable, morphed into a sharper sort of amusement, “Ah, I’ve given myself away as an outsider so easily, how terrible. I’ll know better for next time, I suppose. When in Rome... don’t speak to anyone or make eye contact.” He’d known from a patchwork of his very few previous visits to the place that it was quiet- he’d picked here to sulk in a corner in the first place for a reason, after all. That didn’t mean he couldn’t meet Katherine’s offhanded ribbing with sarcasm of his own. 

Rabastan couldn’t remember the last time he got well and truly drunk. He hadn’t even been properly tipsy in far too long. And Rab didn’t flatter himself by thinking he was untouchable- he was well acquainted with his own mortality, thank you very much- but he couldn’t imagine Katherine would be stupid enough to take advantage of his inebriation in any way. Fuck it. It was far more fun than sulking or spending the night lounging about the manor. 

“Rude. This is the best piss water they have on tap in this delightful establishment.” As if to prove his point, the old man at the bar chose that moment to loudly proclaim someone a ‘fucking idiot’ and reach over the bar top and flick said patron hard in the forehead. Rabastan raised his eyebrows across the table at Katherine and downed the rest of his drink, pushing up from his chair in one movement, “Any requests?”

The girl nodded, looking up to him from beneath the cover of her lashes. “-Have you ever thought about it?” Narcissa questioned. Rodolphus and Bella had obviously been the arranged marriage between their families, but Narcissa had wondered if it would have shifted downward to the two younger siblings had things turned wayward. The weight of his arm around her was a familiar comfort, one she had little qualms about drawing upon. The witch leaned further into his chest. Narcissa knew she was supposed to marry Lucius, but in moments like this, she knew she also loved Rabastan. He’d been her rock for years, and unlike Lucius, he’d never wavered in offering his attention or affection. Aside from putting her in an obvious conflict, the idea made her desperate to assure herself of his safety and longevity.  

“-Promise me.” Cissa whispered, still unsatisfied with the words that had left his lips. It wasn’t enough for her to know that he’d try. She needed to be confident that the other was going to never again come face to face with death. Narcissa watched his eyes close, and it made her smile. His reaction made her more certain that her touch had a relatively calming effect for the other. “-Me?” Narcissa questioned, furrowing her brows a little as she looked up to him as he turned the promise over to her. It wasn’t often that other’s advised her to be safe. Most thought she stayed out of trouble; no one had any reason to harm her physically. Though, the way Rabastan’s words were uttered made her sit up a little in his arms.

“-I’m fine, Rab.” She whispered, looking him in the eyes as she sighed, pushing her forehead up against his own for a short moment. “I have people looking out for me; I have Bella, Andy, Regulus, Rod, Lucius, and you all fretting over me. How could anything touch me?” The girl whispered. A second later, the blonde leaned in, pressing her lips to his own in a feather light kiss before she pulled back. It was a silent promise she’d endeavor to keep herself out of trouble; it wouldn’t be hard.

His larger fingers interlocked, covering her smaller ones with ease. She leaned the side of her face against his arm, seeking to steal any of the warmth that exuded from the extremity. A soft hum flit through her lips as they moved through the manor with relative ease. Not only was he leading her, but she was familiar with the home as well. It wasn’t long until they’d arrived at his room, and she was following Rabastan into his suite. “-Rab.” Cissa laughed, feeling her lithe frame being captured and lifted from its place on the ground. Hands sprung up, clutching at his shirt for security before she actually let herself relax in his arms. Before he could set her down, she gently toed out of her shoes and let them fall to the floor, abandoned.

Her body collapsed into the plush of his mattress, sinking down with no intention of moving far for hours. Narcissa smirked up to him, crawling beneath the blankets as he mentioned her kicking his ass at chess. “-Hurry. My ego needs a little nursing, and beating you is the best pick me up that’s been offered. I’m looking forward to winning, and then comforting you in your loss.” Her words pitched, going lower than her normal tone as the smirk plastered on her lips widened in flirtation.

There had been talk and consideration, cropping up at various points through Rabastan’s life, of course there had been. Marriage was just another useful tool to pureblooded families, and it wasn’t abnormal for arrangements to come about early on. But with two sons to carry on the Lestrange name and a firm place high in the intricate strata of the social hierarchy, there hadn’t been too much concern about finding a wife for the second son. Not that Rab was particularly put out by the state of affairs. 

He’d known practically as long as he’d known Narcissa that she was promised to Lucius- he’d started Hogwarts with a well of information about his peers that had been drilled into him in the months before that September- and perhaps had that not been the case things might have developed differently between them. Rabastan couldn’t deny that he loved Narcissa with a sort of tenderness that was replicated with no one else. He’d thought about it, of course, it was impossible not to imagine on occasion while Rodolphus strode about with another Black sister on his arm. But it had never been a serious possibility, not even when their friendship grew another branch. “Yes,” the admission was quiet, not that Rab was ashamed by it, “of course I have. You’re my dearest friend who I wouldn’t be concerned about murdering me within a week of living together.” The humor seeped into his voice unbidden, and disappeared just as quickly, “Why do you ask?” 

Narcissa’s insistence for a promise was understandable; Rab felt the same fierce need for her to be okay. “Alright. I promise.” The poisoning and all that had followed had proven with a stark clarity just how much that promise may not be something he could fulfill, but Rabastan’s words rang with sincerity regardless. For Cissa, and Rodolphus and Rosemary and Bella and all the rest he wouldn’t die. Against all the odds he’d avoided that fate once already, if luck held he could avoid breaking his promise. 

The witch’s kiss sealed her promise, and Rab was content. The war was undiscriminatory, as untouchable as Narcissa seemed, Rabastan worried. 

It was hard to worry when he had a laughing Narcissa in his arms though, hand curled in the front of his shirt. Still harder when she was crawling under the covers of the bed and smirking at him, voice pitched low. Rabastan hummed quietly, as if considering, but his wand was already out of its holster on his wrist and a chess set summoned from the other room with a few muttered words. He caught the elegantly inlaid wooden set with one hand as it came soaring in, and met Narcissa’s smirk head on with one of his own. “Ask and you shall receive.” 

He dropped the chess set onto the plush end of the bed with a flick of his wrist, the movement setting off a series of muffled complaints from the chess pieces held inside the drawer. Rab leaned against the post at the foot of the bed, hip bracing himself as he untied his boots one at a time, letting them fall to the floor, “I’d protest disregarding any possibility of my winning before we even start, but I have to admit- there’s no one I’d rather lose to.” 

He moved, very deliberately foregoing the much easier option of walking around the bed to getting on and clambering right over Narcissa, pausing lingeringly as his face ended up- in the most engineered of accidents- very close to hers before dropping a quick kiss to her lips and flashing her a wink before turning away and settling next to her, near the headboard. He placed the chess set between them. Another flick of his wand had the pieces moving into place, gaze moving back over to her with a slow-growing smirk. “Hurry,” He echoed her word back to her, smirk broadening, “I’m looking forward to my consolation prize. Which, admittedly, is the same as the actual prize. Honour and glory aside, of course.” 

darkxwithin‌:

There was a momentary gaze in Rabastan’s direction until Rodolphus clicked his fingers and the serving dishes were suddenly filled with food fit for a king and why it shouldn’t it be. They more than likely didn’t see themselves below any royal standard–Rosemary definitely didn’t.

“It smells divine.”

She inhaled deeply through her nostrils, letting the smell enter and cover the delicate sensory cells of her nasal passages.

“It’s so splendid, Rod. Neat bit of magic.”

Her attention turned to Rabastan and she raised both brows before feigning shock.

“Well, I certainly don’t bloody talk too much.”

She knew she did, but just wouldn’t admit it and the sly smirk which followed indicated that.

With the sight of the food before them and the inviting aroma, the raven-haired witch wanted to tuck straight in, but she had far more restraint than most people thought she had—when she chose to anyway.

Instead, she sat politely and waited, watching as Rabastan picked up the ladle and filled up her bowl.

“Thanks.”

Offering him a smile she was about to bring her hand up and pick up her spoon but waited until the three of them were ready to eat. After all, manners might not be seen towards others, but they always would be with those who meant the most to her. Her mother did teach her that–only she expected Rosemary to use them when it came to everyone….

...such a shame.

@viciousvisage

Rod winked at his cousin, smirking at her comment. They all knew she spoke too much, but they wouldn’t have her any other way. Especially not when she complemented his magic. Anyone knew it was the fastest way to his heart.

Rabastan, ever the charitable host, served the others before himself and he wondered how he ever got so lucky to have such a wonderful family. He really couldn’t remember the last time they’d been in the same room together like this, with nothing distracting them all.

“So, does anyone have any ravishing news? Rose? Rab? Let me live vicariously through you both.”

He was the only taken man, had been for over eleven years and though he’d never change it, Rodolphus did love the gossip that came from the pair. “I know Cissa has been around a little more than usual of late…”

@rabxlestrangex​

Once everyone had a bowl of soup before them- Rosemary’s thanks acknowledged with an inclined head and a hint of a smile- Rab let the ladle rest against the fine ceramic of the bowl with the gentlest of noises. The food smelled wonderful, but that was no surprised. There would have been no holds barred in making a meal for the three of them together.

Rod’s question pulled a quiet laugh from Rabastan, that quickly turned into a mask of innocence as his brother continued. It was a charade more than anything. Rosemary didn’t have the benefit of living under the same roof, but Rabastan thought enough of Rodolphus to know that the older wizard’s suspicions were probably entirely correct. It wasn’t as though he and Cissa had been very subtle as they moved about the manor recently. Bella had seen them curled together on a single chair at least once, by now. 

“Ravishing? Unfortunately I’m forced to disappoint you on that front, there’s been nothing particularly out of the ordinary lately for me- though you do make a good point. Cissa’s been around to absolutely ruin me at chess a number of times recently. Which is lovely, she’s good company.” Rabastan picked up his spoon, flourishing it to point across the table at his cousin. “Rosemary might have a story or two to whet your appetite, though.” 

Rabastan had known Bellatrix for decades. It was no secret that she was clever. But he couldn’t let her get away with praising her own intelligence and winking at him- it was simply a matter of principle. Eyebrows raising in a slow unfurling of undiluted skepticism, Rab caught Bella’s eye, “And I’m sure if you keep saying that someday it will stick.” But there was humor in his words, and as Bella continued on he let out a quiet chuckle, “Yes, I’m sure you and Rodolphus could produce devastatingly clever babies. They’ll be crawling about doing magic and displaying Bellatrixian wit.” His tone was unapologetically sarcastic.

“He’d find it interesting, that’s a given. It’s obviously magical, and I doubt the shop keep has even the barest idea of it’s potential. Maybe we should get it, Rod can help experiment and then it can join the decor.”

The importance of Bellatrix’s trust was not something Rabastan took lightly. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to break a curse on a necklace for her either, not when there were so many ways such a thing could go wrong, so many ways for a previously cursed necklace to be cursed anew. If Bella went to someone else to break an item’s curse, Rab would respect the decision- after a bit of complaining, of course- but there was no way he’d let her be the first to touch it when it returned to her person. “Wonderful, it’ll give me something to tinker with at home, maybe it’ll put some new burn marks in the walls- we can see how long it takes Rod to notice.” He side-stepped her admission of her trust in him, though it was tantalizing embarrassment fodder. As much as he and Bella could appear to the outside observer to have a relationship that was at it’s core chaotic and combative, there was a deeper level of understanding there that seemed impossible to touch with a sarcastic word or roll of the eyes. Rabastan nodded, “It is lovely, I have no doubt people will be incredibly jealous. As for another curse, well, once I’ve broken the first we can consider what might be best. It’s been far too long since I’ve had the time to properly create a curse of my own.”

Bellatrix headed off towards a rack of weapons- where else?- and Rabastan followed, hands in pockets, the picture of lazily graceful nonchalance one step behind. “It’s for the best, probably. Last time I was in here Borgin was behind the counter and was absolutely frantic to upsell just about everything in the shop to me. It got annoying remarkably quickly.” Moving to stand next to Bellatrix, Rabastan let his gaze move slowly over the weapons on display, “I favor my wand and the occasional dagger, personally.” He raised a hand to tap a finger against the darkened blade of a sword, the metal responding with a dull, resonant thud, “Swords are unfortunately unwieldy for certain types of use.”  

  “And what’s so wrong with that?” Her eyes glanced towards him, low and dark despite the misplaced smile which her lips held. She knew that regardless of the situation, Rabastan would hold some sort of special place in his heart for whatever would come from Rodolphus and herself’s union. Her head tilted though, a feigned look of hurt at the sarcasm which left his lips. “You know you’d enjoy that very fact, Rabastan. Would be far better company than myself- it’d have the bloodline convincing it to enjoy your company.” She’d shrugged nonchalantly, as if her words held no weight to them. “Wouldn’t have to pretend like I do.”

She’d broken the false sense of seriousness with a laugh, curls bouncing slightly as she’d thought about what Rodolphus’ reaction would be to seeing the thing. Rabastan had it correct- he’d enjoy the potential.

   “Perhaps. It can go in my collection of victim fingers… a little souvenir from our little shop visit.” Dark brows raised up, Bellatrix quick as ever to drop the conversation, eyes glancing around the room. “I’m more than sure he’d enjoy experimenting on it, though. Might be a good idea to keep it.”

She could sense the value that he felt behind her trust, despite the fact that she wasn’t exactly vocal about such things. He knew well enough that there wasn’t another soul she’d trust with a thing. Rabastan was talented in what he did- it explained why he was always sought out to do such tasks- Bellatrix would’ve been a fool to ignore his capacity, given that she’d seen him at work. Her hands moved to grab the soft, velvet cushion on which the necklace was propped, grabbing her wand and allowing the necklace to float over to the counter, a soft nod to the shop keep alerting of her intentions to purchase.

  “It wouldn’t take too long for him to notice, Rab. He knows when I’ve been tinkering about, careful as I try to be.” She’d always assumed that her fiancé was more lenient when it came to her experimentations- he understood that it was a part of her growth, her never ending knowledge. To keep Bellatrix locked away was never the greatest of situations- not only did the dark-haired witch detest it, it also kept her less stable than she usually was. “I’d enjoy watching the ensuing conversation- especially since you should know how to care for yourself.”

Her eyes rolled at his mention of the shop owner, the resounding expression quick to fill the features of her face.

   “I would’ve hexed him as soon as he began.” She’d held her tongue, an inkling of her smile slowly appearing. “He’d still beg to have us back for business.” Money talked, especially in such places. “I didtry to find something interesting here with Evan the other day- seems not much has changed.”

She moved through the various aisles, boredom hastily becoming more obvious as her brows knitted together.

  “I’m afraid there may not be anything else that’ll peak my interest here.” Her eyes glanced over towards him. “You’re clearlyenjoying my company, come on. There’s a nice bottle of 1872 that’s got my name on it.”

She’d nodded towards the exit, eyes glancing towards the shop keep.

  “Have the items sent to the manor.”

She’d offered her arm to Rabastan, smirk growing more prominent.

  “Come on, promise I don’t bite.”  

A Rodant And A Snake || Rabastan & Peter

@rabxlestrangex

The Ministry was like a different place for him now. For years it had been training, training and still more training with hardly anything to show for it and a great sense that he didn’t belong; a sense that had trailed after him all his life… But now, he wore his apprentice Hit-Wizard pin with pride on his robes and held his head up high. Hell, he even smiled, nodded and exchanged greetings with strangers. This was his workplace as much as theirs now and he’d earned the right to think that.

It had been another busy morning, there was always more drills to take and more potential enemies to learn of; given the current terror some dark witches and wizards were bringing to the world the whole department was ready to be sent out at the drop of a hat, not that he’d be invited along for something yet unless absolutely necessary.

The afternoon was met with some relief on Peter’s part and he wondered how he would best spend his evening; he’d been invited out by some colleagues the day before and it had gone great! Everyone was much more tired today though so it seemed he’d have the evening to himself. He was so busy thinking of what he’d do when he left the Ministry he failed to notice where his feet were leading him and look up to find himself… he didn’t know where… dung brains.

Looking around to try and orient himself Peter saw a man coming down the corridor, a handsome, confident looking man who made him immediately want to hunch his shoulders and hope he wouldn’t get picked on… But he fought the instinct and instead cleared his throat and half-nervously approached, “Uhh, excuse me. Sorry to bother you but umm, I’m a little lost.” his light voice still held a nervous edge to it and without him even noticing a hand had come up to rub the back of his neck.

Finally, after a string of seemingly endless commissions from or arranged through the Ministry, Rabastan was left tying up the loose ends of his latest curse breaking assignment in the establishment’s hallowed halls with no new project on the docket for his attention to turn to next. Not yet, anyway. Work always found him. Curse breaking was a specialist calling, after all- there were few magical folk who were both willing to dip their fingers into the dangerous world of age-old curses and had the sheer skill the work required. The demand for his expertise hardly surprised Rab, he knew he was good at what he did, but it could get grating. He was more than prepared to seize the opportunity of the time afforded to him, however long or short that may be. He’d likely have a teapot that spit insults out like so much steam being thrust at him inside of a week. It was a waste of his talents.

Rab knew the Ministry with a familiarity only comparable to a handful of other locations, and navigated it with a nonchalant ease that had at some point, years and years ago, stopped being put on and become backed with a well of knowledge about the labyrinthine building that was commendable considering his work there was technically on a freelance basis. Even when he’d been young, a teenager trotting along at Rodolphus’ heels as his older brother led him around his place of work, Rab had acted as though the ground beneath his feet was his, and his alone. He would never have admitted to anyone- save Rod, but if he were with his brother the concern would be a moot point, anyway- that he were lost. But that didn’t mean he was particularly surprised when he was approached and the first thing the wizard before him let slip was an admission of his directional failings. Some people were simply cut from a different cloth.

“It’s no bother at all.” Rabastan was warm by default. It was a learned skill, something he’d discovered was far more advantageous and generally rewarding than the derisive bullying some of his contemporaries had never seemed to really grow out of. He met the wizard’s nervousness- written in the hand at the back of his neck, and the apology in his voice- with a lazily presented smile. “Whoever designed this place was either tragically abysmal at architectural design or sadistic. It’s far too easy to get lost in. Where was it you were trying to go? We’ll see if we can’t puzzle it out together.” 

Every movement the other made was noted. Her baby blues were constantly surveying the darker haired male, holding onto every little thing. She’d tuck the details away to hold her over when she had to return home alone. “We can make sure they end up out of the bed when our interest inevitably shifts to more interesting matters.” Cissa breathed, letting her hues sweep over his lips with a small shrug. “-I’ll even be nice and help you find them after.” She winked.

“Our manor is the same. I’ve tried to convince Mother to get rid of some things, but she won’t have it.” She said with a mild shrug. Without Bella, her home had become a colder place. Andy was transient at best, and her mother lacked nearly every maternal bone. She was weathering any and all storms alone within those walls, not that she’d ever bother to make any of that known.

A giggle spilled out of her lips as he snatched up her hand and showered it with a kiss. “Bella would murder all of us if we tried to replace her. I don’t even think I’d be safe.” Cissa hummed, turning her hand over in his as she laced their fingers together. Physicality had little limits between the two of them. She didn’t even bother to resist whatever urges arose with Rabastan. That was yet another her moving in to the manor would cause an entire ruckus of gossip. Skeeter would have material for weeks. “-Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for everyone else to think such things.” She murmured, looking down to their hands. Narcissa had considered it; the thought had crossed her mind a good few times over the last months. Perhaps, she even wanted it. Her thumb padded over his knuckles as the blonde looked down at her lap. He’d never been her’s to have forever, anyways. His words took her out of her own head, and the blonde nodded, holding his hand a bit tighter as she nodded. “-I know, Rab. I know.” Her lips pursed, thinking about what more she wanted to say before moving her hands up to his face.

She hesitated as his face came closer to her own, thumbs slipping down his cheeks as she bit down on her lesser lip. It was hard for her to concentrate on getting anything serious out when he was looking over her like that. A soft breath left her as he hummed before his smile slipped just like her own had just moments ago. It didn’t bode well for the conversation, but they were both people with extremely limited circles. Any time a piece of their lives was threatened, it seemed only fit that there be the essence of sadness. “Just stay alive for me.” Narcissa whispered against his jawline. Soft lips drug up the sharpness of his jawline while his hand settled upon the nape of her neck. “You have to be okay, or I won’t be.” The words were the failed ones from before, only able to be released because she wasn’t looking at Rabastan directly. He apologized, but none of it had really been any fault of his own. She spent a few moments in the silence, listening to the dull thud of his heartbeat through his chest. The sound possessed healing properties. Baby blues fluttered when his lips touched the top of her head, further lulling her into a state of contentment.

“Well, you nearly dying on me is about as grim as things get.” Cissa muttered without much bite as she removed her head from the crook of his neck. Her hands came up, framing his face effectively between her palms as she nodded. “-Let’s go to bed. It’s impossible to be sad there.” She offered with a teasing smirk. “And when I kick your ass at chess, it’ll really be impossible to be upset.” Her words were followed by a gentle squeeze before she released his face and carefully navigated her way off of his lap. A tiny hand was held out for him to take as she waited for him to join her.

Rabastan smiled against Narcissa’s hand as his gesture- a jumble of theatricality and affection- pulled a giggle from her. Cissa’s laugh was breathtaking in an entirely different way than she was. Rab marveled at how something so cheerful and genuine could exist in a place, a world, such as this, where every other word out of people’s mouths were carefully picked lies, and smiles were often as flimsy as tissue paper. It seemed as though her genuineness demanded, silently, the same from him. It had always been that way. Fingers laced together in her lap, Rabastan snorted out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head, “Best not to risk it, then.” If Rodolphus or Bellatrix were to stumble upon them like this, they wouldn’t be terribly surprised, they did live in the same, admittedly sprawling, home, after all. But few others would be unfazed by the sight of the two of them, curled into each other on a chair. Rabastan had never entirely bought into the frigidness some of the others in their circle favoured, but his default was hardly affectionate. 

“No, you’re right, it wouldn’t.” Of all the people in the world to be rumored to be engaged to, or engaged in some secret love affair with, Rabastan would probably choose for it to be Narcissa. They’d been friends since Hogwarts, and known each other even longer. He loved her, a fact written undeniably in the way his words slipped easily and unchecked in her presence, and in how their fingers remained interlaced. Her gaze slipped to their hands, her thumb rubbing over his knuckles, but Rabastan didn’t look away from her face, trying to parse out what lay there. When she squeezed his hand, he squeezed back, looping his free arm where it lay on the arm rest behind her back around her for good measure so as to hold her more tightly, providing whatever comfort he could. 

Stay alive for me. Rabastan had woken up in St. Mungo’s and vowed to himself to stay alive for Rodolphus, whose fear had struck Rab to the core. Curled in a chair with Narcissa, in the safety of the Lestrange manor, he vowed the same to her, “I will.” He let his eyes close as her lips lingered against his jaw. As much as he understood why she needed the assurance from him, the idea made the thought of Narcissa herself ending up in danger seem far too real. “I’m expecting you to do the same, by the way.” The humor was stilted, and faded quickly, “I couldn’t- I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you, Cissa.” 

Rab’s laugh was quiet and relieved, and he flashed Narcissa a smile as she raised her head from his neck. “So confident. Even if I can’t match your tactical prowess, I’ve got a couple tricks up my sleeve, Cissa. I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.” Her hands were cupping his face, holding him in place, and Rab could hardly complain- there wasn’t anything he’d rather be looking at than that smirk on Narcissa’s face, anyway. 

The small grin that painted Augustus’ features was paired with an easy shrug. It had been worth a try. It was commendable that the younger Lestrange knew himself well enough to avoid the sedentary Ministry lifestyle. He could sympathise; Gus certainly couldn’t see himself working in the International Office, despite his penchant for a political shitstorm. Not for all the money in the world and it wasn’t like the Lestrange family didn’t have influence in the Ministry already. Augustus would simply prefer to have someone able to bend Minchum’s ear directly.

“Can’t knock a man for trying.” Augustus drawled. “Though you strike me as a hard fellow to tie down, Master Lestrange.” As far as Augustus was aware, Rabastan was quite the bachelor, though what (or who) his fellow Death Eaters did in their spare time was of little interest to him. With all of Gus’ wandering in his twenties, the Department of Mysteries had always been his goal; aspirational and fixed. His passion kept him warmer than any lover ever had- his North Star, of sorts- and it had taken almost ten years of endless work to reach.

The confidence exuded by the younger man was heartening. Augustus had never been terribly good at improvising, though his experience of things going awry had broadened considerably since joining the Rebellion. In Gus’ own pursuits, contingency plans were often as elaborate as the original, every factor accounted for. It would be interesting to see Rabastan at work. “I have utmost faith, Lestrange, fear not. Though I’m intrigued as to why we have not been matched for missions before.” Augustus could only assume that there had not been a need- apart from Bellatrix, Augustus was frequently placed at the head of a cohort of imbeciles. Though he preferred to work alone.

“But I make such an ugly crier.” Augustus opined dramatically, his mouth pursed in displeasure. In truth, Augustus couldn’t recall the last time he had shed a tear. The very thought felt distant and hard to reconcile. In all of his mummery, his elaborate characters, Augustus suspected he couldn’t feign crying. “And I don’t want to embarrass you, dear.”

“Oh, but I’m drinking it all in right now.” Augustus’ eyes regarded Rabastan as he took a drink from his glass- regal, immaculately dressed- before dancing their way around the quietly filling terrace as glamorous French wixen arriving for a late dinner. “Besides,” Augustus added, voice a thoughtful lilt as his gaze returned to the younger Lestrange, “toasts were originally borne from suspicion and mistrust. Pardon the presumption, but I thought us past that.”

Rabastan Lestrange was untouchable for his very proximity to Rodolphus. And while Augustus’ allegiance was primarily to his own survival, the elder Lestrange held an indisputable hold over the Unspeakable. He knew too much- Augustus had let him know too much- to allow him anything but control over him. Most days it was a comfort, offering him a chance to take his hands off the broomstick and just enjoy the ride; Something he would never have allowed with a lesser man. Perched on a hill in Montmartre, drinking expensive wine and plotting theft, Augustus couldn’t have felt safer.

“Of course not.” In fact, Rabastan had found Augustus’ efforts in nudging him back to the Ministry’s halls more commendable than anything. Inviting him for dinner wasn’t particularly original, but Paris was a good touch and a good choice- there were less ears tilted in their direction here on the continent- and Augustus undoubtably knew how to hold an effective conversation. The man was gaining something for his efforts regardless in Rab’s partnership in the plan unfolding between them. His next comment drew a smile that toed the line of becoming a smirk from Rabastan, “I can hardly imagine why. I’ve lived in the same home I was born in for my entire life, Augustus, I’m as tied down as they come.” And as much as Rab was being purposefully obtuse, his words were telling. Rabastan had no particular intention of ever settling down in a relationship, but his loyalties were obvious to anyone who paid even the slightest amount of attention.

“We’ve clearly been letting rather a lot of remarkable potential go to waste, if how well we’ve worked together so far is any indication.” Humor had slipped into Rabastan’s tone, but it was underpinned with sincerity. Rabastan hadn’t sat with Augustus expecting to be pulled into such an enticing plot, but he’d throughly enjoyed their work, casual though it may be, so far. “More often than not, I work with Rodolphus- that would be why, I’d imagine. Though I’m entirely willing to make an exception for you.” It only made sense that the Lestranges were paired for so many missions. Rab, at least, was indisputably at his best working at his brother’s side. 

Augustus’ dramatics earned him an amused snort of a chuckle from Rabastan, but for all the theatrics were humorous, Rab didn’t think he could actually imagine Augustus Rookwood dissolving into tears. Even if the man were under the influence of a considerable amount of alcohol, the idea just seemed fundamentally wrong. The older wizard was consistently stoic, at least in Rabastan’s experience. “It wouldn’t be any trouble at all, I don’t really do embarrassed. But if you insist I’ll let you get away without intoxication.” 

 “Oh, what a smart mind I have.” Dark eyes flickered playfully towards Rabastan, a look of entertainment dripping onto her features. A wink had left her, something so strange when what was expected from Bellatrix Black was so rigid and tense. Times like these were an exception, peoplesuch as these were exceptions too. Bellatrix liked to immerse herself in the fact, the flickering images changing based on whether someone was deemed pure enough to cascade into her inner circle. “Must be great for the bloodline, right, Rabastan?” A smirk enclosed her ruby lips once more, head tilting in interest. “Admittedly it wouldn’t fare so well with the other decors of the Manor, but Rodolphus does have his moments of surprise, I’m sure this would be one of the unlikely treasures he’d enjoy.”

One would be foolish to ask how Bellatrix got off on making her mother’s life more difficult. She did agree on most matters with her, pledged allegiance to a cause that she’d been pressed upon since birth, and yet there seemed a lingering animosity between the two women. They were too similar, though Bellatrix struggled to admit it, most love was fire, theirs wasice. The inkling of heat only came from other devices, other people who quirked at Bella’s heartstrings. Her eyes glanced over the necklace, a smile of approval gracing her lips. Such things were dangerous, beauty enclosed in darkness- she felt some sort of draw to it, a magnetism that she would struggle to explain.

 “I’ll get it then, see to it that you break the curse. I wouldn’t dare trust anybody else to do so.” As much as they played this game, there were seldom people that Bellatrix Black trusted. Most were useful, sure, pawns to the measly game that was transpiring around them, some were weapons, easily manoeuvred to do hard bidding, but this was different. This was family, and although Bellatrix would no sooner slash her neck than admit it to him, he still held a strong place in her circle. “Would make a nice accessory. Perhaps I could place a different curse on it. For my own purposes of course.”

Her head tilted as her eyes glanced around the shop around them. It had an array of interesting items, although Bellatrix barely had the time to explore them.

  “I’m afraid I haven’t had much time in here, unfortunately. Shop keep seems a little disinterested, so I guess we’ll have to do our own exploring.” The clack of her boots was prominent against the wooden floor, the creaking no means of distraction as she walked towards the array of weapons displayed. “Are you running low on ammunition, Rabastan?”

Rabastan had known Bellatrix for decades. It was no secret that she was clever. But he couldn’t let her get away with praising her own intelligence and winking at him- it was simply a matter of principle. Eyebrows raising in a slow unfurling of undiluted skepticism, Rab caught Bella’s eye, “And I’m sure if you keep saying that someday it will stick.” But there was humor in his words, and as Bella continued on he let out a quiet chuckle, “Yes, I’m sure you and Rodolphus could produce devastatingly clever babies. They’ll be crawling about doing magic and displaying Bellatrixian wit.” His tone was unapologetically sarcastic.

“He’d find it interesting, that’s a given. It’s obviously magical, and I doubt the shop keep has even the barest idea of it’s potential. Maybe we should get it, Rod can help experiment and then it can join the decor.”

The importance of Bellatrix’s trust was not something Rabastan took lightly. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to break a curse on a necklace for her either, not when there were so many ways such a thing could go wrong, so many ways for a previously cursed necklace to be cursed anew. If Bella went to someone else to break an item’s curse, Rab would respect the decision- after a bit of complaining, of course- but there was no way he’d let her be the first to touch it when it returned to her person. “Wonderful, it’ll give me something to tinker with at home, maybe it’ll put some new burn marks in the walls- we can see how long it takes Rod to notice.” He side-stepped her admission of her trust in him, though it was tantalizing embarrassment fodder. As much as he and Bella could appear to the outside observer to have a relationship that was at it’s core chaotic and combative, there was a deeper level of understanding there that seemed impossible to touch with a sarcastic word or roll of the eyes. Rabastan nodded, “It is lovely, I have no doubt people will be incredibly jealous. As for another curse, well, once I’ve broken the first we can consider what might be best. It’s been far too long since I’ve had the time to properly create a curse of my own.”

She wasn’t actually that good with her wand – though granted, she’d gotten better from her Hogwarts’ days – and in a duel she was more likely to launch a potion at you rather than a spell, but she wasn’t about to admit to that any time soon. “True,” is what she countered with instead, lapping up the praise anyway. “I s’pose you can stay.” The illusion that she was in charge here was just that, but she’d take it anyway.

“You don’t like it here?” The question comes out unbidden and without permission. Apparently, though she’d sneer at the very idea, some part of her wanted a conversation. Some part of her was lonely. She looked over the place, dotted with clientele that looked a little worse for wear, and the place was clearly being held together with more magic than mortar, but there was something comforting about this place for her. If she wasn’t holed up brewing, then Katherine was here. “I think it’s quite charming.” She glanced over when he did towards the bar and inexplicably found herself battling down a smile. “Grumpy barkeep and all.”

Rabastan was dangerous and she’d be stupid to not know that; the Dark Lord currently thought the sun shone out of his brother’s arse and that he shit rainbows, so really it was in her best interests to stop being a prickly bitch and actually try to use some of those impeccable manners her mum had ground into her. “I don’t believe in happy accidents, or coincidences for that matter,” the words tumble out, as though she hadn’t just had an internal battle to play nice. She smiles, to take away the sting, and sucks on her bottom lip briefly. “But that’s not to say that I’m above looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

Sweeping her book off the table and folding it away in pockets that didn’t look nearly big enough to house it, she lifted her drink up and tilted it at him, waiting for him to clink his own against hers. “I have a revolutionary idea. Let’s get drunk. I can’t recall the last time I did and quite frankly, I deserve it. I’m sure you do too.”

Rabastan met Katherine’s permission to remain seated with a smile, the grateful turn to his expression entirely fabricated. He’d decided on a whim that sharing a drink with the witch across from him was preferable to brooding alone in a corner, but by now he was committed to the idea. Having Katherine agree to let him sit with her was merely a formality at this point. “And your graciousness is deeply appreciated. Thank you.” He took a considerable swallow of his pint as if to bookend his words.

“I wouldn’t say that I don’t like it, otherwise the fact that I came here of my own volition not ten minutes ago would be either hypocritical or unfortunate. No, I don’t not like it here, but that doesn’t mean that I particularly like it.” There were places Rab would rather spend his money, and more importantly, his time. Not to mention that a fair few of the people Rab was inclined to spend time with would balk at the suggestion they go out to the Hog’s Head of all places. “I suppose I could see the argument for charming- it’s got character at the very least.” He watched, curious but innocently so (or as innocent as Rabastan’s curiosity had the ability to be), as she stifled a smile. Do you come here often then, Katherine?” 

Rab nodded, his idly courteous smile quirking briefly into something slightly amused, “That’s probably wise.” 

Katherine put away her book, a gesture Rabastan was somewhat pleasantly surprised by. He had imagined that she would likely carry on the conversation until the first opportunity to bury her nose back in it’s pages. As she held out her drink expectantly he raised his to oblige her before drinking, raising an eyebrow across the table at her over his glass as she spoke. Getting drunk without someone he trusted implicitly to watch his back was ill advised. But if he’d wandered over to Katherine Pyrites table to talk to her and potentially learn more about her, well, agreeing couldn’t hurt. “I’m going to have to switch to something stronger, if that’s how this night is going to go.” 

fleeing tedium || r&n

“We could play a game of chess, in bed. If the stakes are high enough, I’m sure neither of us would get bored.” She murmured with a raise of her eyebrows. It was a tease, but it was also an option she wouldn’t deny him. Any time spent with the other was desired. They got along well enough that any situation that would have been dull or boring with anyone else was thoroughly enjoyable. It was a comfort unlike any other, and Narcissa hadn’t realized how crucial it was to her until it started to come less and less. His words sprinkled a blush onto her cheeks. “-You’re too kind to me, Rabastan.”

A soft laugh slipped out of her lips when he mentioned the past decorating. “I did notice, and while it was tasteful, it wasn’t the most modern choice. I can’t say our manor is any better. There are a few pieces that have been in the family since its origin.” She mused. A tiny hand swat at his chest as he spoke of trading Bella. “-I think that arrangement could be pleasing for the pair of us, but I fear Rodolphus would miss Bella.” Bella would surely miss the man. He was a reserve of comfort for the other that she just didn’t have the capability to be.

“Of course you did.” She mumbled, smirking lazily as her lips stretched to reveal her pearly whites. It warmed her to know that the other had in fact missed her over the week they’d spent apart. The change in his expression pulled her closer as she sat up pa little in his lap and moved the hand that cradled his into her lap. “The feeling is mutual. Not much could  make me turn down coming to see you, my love.” The term of endearment left her mouth softer than the rest of her sentence. It was so easy to simply exist in the presence of the younger Lestrange brother. “People would talk if I moved in. The tale of our ‘engagement’ or some other gossip would spread like fire on dry grass.” The woman whispered before smirking a little as she joked to lessen the seriousness of it all. “-Though, apparating into a warm bed with unbeatable company a day or two a week wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Her hand offered his a soft squeeze to reinforce her point.

Narcissa missed the sensation of being held. She’d had little to no time alone with Lucius since the Rebellion had begun to pick up speed. Light eyes traveled with his own as he spoke to her before they fell to his smile as it grew in size. She grinned softly, feeling warmth sink into her features, a warmth they often lacked. She used her thumb and forefinger to capture the edge of his chin and tilt it down gently so that she could truly gaze upon his smile. “An old professor tried to get under my skin. Maybe she did.” Cissa whispered, leaning forward as she pressed soft lips against the edge of his jaw. She paused a moment, leaving their flesh connected before she pulled back some. “-You scared the life out of me, you know? I thought-..” Words failed as she chewed at her lower lip. It’d been a horrible few days to say the least. Baby blues lowered, looking down at his chest was easier–it made it easier to hide the fear that was stirring below her hues. Instead of speaking further on the matter, the blonde nestled closer, tucking her head into the crook of his neck with a small sigh. In one single inhale, his scent brought her more peace than she’d felt in the last few days.

“While I’m certainly not opposed to the idea-” His and Narcissa’s relationship had grown and evolved over so many years that their interactions were characterized by an easy familiarity. He highly doubted he could be made properly bored while she was around. “I’m sure the chess pieces would have rather a lot to say about where they end up when our interest wavers. Though, as I think about it, that could also be rather amusing. I’ll consider it.” 

Rab’s smile quirked slightly wider as he caught the blush creeping up her cheeks, and he shrugged off her words with a nonchalant wave of his hand. As far as he was concerned, too kind was hardly possible when it came to the people he held to be the most important to him. 

He nodded, “We still have pieces scattered about that have seen far too many generations, but I suppose that’s important. I know for a fact that there’s a love seat in one of the secondary sitting rooms that Rod tucked there to get it out of the way without getting rid of it entirely. Some of the portraits are annoyingly outspoken when it comes to furnishings.” 

The swat to his chest earned Narcissa a bright smile and a huff of a laugh as he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to it, “He would. Luckily for him, it seems very unlikely that Bellatrix would let anyone trade her for anything.” And as much as he complained and joked, Rabastan would miss Bella’s presence in the manor too. She had become as much a fixture of the space as the books that lined the walls around them, and the scuffs and gouges on the floorboards where no one had gotten around to repairing damage made by fiery tempers and curious minds. He’d be more than happy to have another Black sister on the premises more often, however. Narcissa smirked as he agreed he’d missed her, and Rab shook his head with a sort of fond amusement, raised eyebrows and all. “There’s no doubt. Denying it would probably just lead to all sorts of shock and horror- not that anyone would be inclined to believe us if we said that we’re just very good friends.” It sometimes seemed as though the pureblood set survived on a life-blood of gossip. Rabastan was equal parts inclined to gather up rumors and whispered truths like potentially precious jewels and faintly derisively amused by it all. At unbeatable company, it was Rab’s turn to let his expression slip into a lazy smirk, “Well, you know you’re always welcome here.” 

Narcissa tilted his chin down, and Rabastan let the movement dip his face slightly closer to hers, his eyes sliding with an unhurried closeness from her lips, the warmth of her smile, up to her eyes. He hummed out a quietly acknowledging noise as she spoke, his smile slipping, brow furrowing slightly. The idea of anyone distressing Narcissa in any way was not something that sat well with him, “Tell me if there’s anything I can do.” As Cissa leaned over to press a kiss into his jaw, Rab raised his hand to brush over her cheek before resting at the nape of her neck with a feather lightness. She drew back, chewing her lip, and as her words started and failed, Rab’s heart ached. He’d spent the time since the poisoning brushing aside and attempting to ignore the crippling guilt he felt at the prospect of having hurt Rodolphus. But his time at St.Mungo’s had effected more than just his brother. “I know. I’m sorry, Cissa.” He was somewhat relieved as she tucked her head in the crook of his neck, because looking at the fear and concern in her eyes was too stark a reminder of how close he had been to death. Tilting his head, he pressed a lingering kiss to the top of her head, and held her, letting the quiet rest between them for a few long moments. 

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