Avery Lestrange

“Exploding snap hardly counts as a sport.” Phoebe said through a toothless smile, teasingly sizing him up as she would a potential target. Outside of their business dealings and the countless rumors surrounding the Lestrange family name, she didn’t know much about Avery’s personal endeavors, but it did seem fitting that the metal charmer was into sports at one point in time. Anyone with eyes could see that he did have the muscles for it. 

Phoebe shifted in her stilettos, sky high with bottoms as red as the devil himself, and made her way over towards the losing side of the table. Upon arrival, she placed her empty cup down, canting her head to the side with a playful set of innocent eyes. “Peddling the goods, whatever do you mean? You make it sound as if I’m some kind of a hooker or something. Not one of those lazy, old French ones I hope.” 

Self depreciating at its core, Phoebe laughed at own quip knowing exactly the kind of goods Avery actually meant but seizing the opportunity to joke around. It had been awhile since she used her sarcastic venom in this manner, and it somehow managed to loosen her up. 

“Besides, Mr. Charming Heir, who says I’m not on call.”

Avery couldn’t help but snort at her self-depreciating humor. Maybe it was the alcohol or just the buzz of actually participating in something purely fun for the first time in ages, but he was feeling particularly agreeable and self-indulgent. He had always been curious about what his associate was hiding under that mysterious facade, and he couldn’t find it in himself to deny that he did often enjoy what little company she allowed him. Perhaps it was the handfuls of secrets they shared, but he felt a bit bolder tiptoeing along the very professional line they had set for themselves thus far.

“I had no idea you were so familiar with our night life. Apparently I was hanging out in all of the wrong places back home.” Avery shook his head in feigned disappointment, unable to stop the smirk that cracked through his usually placid demeanor. He gestured his head toward the plentiful alcohol selection before turning to grab another drink, throwing his voice over his shoulder at the woman.

“Work is never over for you, is it?” As if he could be one to talk, spending much of his spare time tinkering and running reports and working on his less... work appropriate projects. “Can I get the lady anything while she waits for the call?”

“Magnifique.” She nodded once, pleased that he was ready and that she would not have to wait. Not that she had expected to, if he was one thing it was always punctual. To be fair the time she had taken to get ready had given him more than enough time to do so as well, it would have been quite surprising to find out that he was not ready. 

It felt strange the amount of time she had spent around him, not even in close proximity but simply in this house. Getting used to it took time even if she had been here on visits several times before. Actually living here (whether she had chosen too or not) was different. When she was still able to leave the country she always chose to get ready back in France. Preparing for events was something she saw as quite private and personal, but now there was no other place for her to be. At least she had the luxury of having her own space here. He did not expect her to have her sleeping quarters close to him, letting her choose whichever room she desired. Not that she ever voiced that to him, but she appreciated it more than he probably knew. So much of her freedom had been taken away by others and he did not try to do so. 

The suit he was wearing was nice, clearly expensive and made for him. He looked good. Quite handsome. Avery cleaned up well, but from the countless events they had attended together she knew that he had not been the one to choose the suit he was in tonight. She didn’t know much about him, truthfully, but that was something she remembered. He said himself that he did not have an eye for fashion. Few men did, she would not consider that a fault in him. Colette knew that she could have it worse, be stuck with someone decades her senior not someone a mere two years older than her. She was lucky in that regard. 

A soft chuckle left her lips at his reaction. Of course she noticed him staring at her, but surprisingly it did not bother her. He seemed nervous. Playing with his hair wasn’t something she had seen him do too often. When had she started noticing things like that? Colette shook that thought off. It was just because she had spent more time around him in the last few months than she ever did before. She felt flattered, like the time she had spent making sure she looked perfect for the event had paid off. It was thrown by a member of the Lestrange family after all and since she was part of it now she had to represent them well. It would be rude not to reply to his compliment, but she found the smile on her lips to be less forced tonight, “Thank you.  You clean up pretty good yourself. I like the suit. Vivienne’s work?” 

Avery felt his ears grow warmer with her chuckling and compliment. The heir wasn’t under any illusion that he was terribly unattractive, but having been the only one in his family other than his father that didn’t possess veela blood, he was used to sinking into the background. Never too boring or improper to seem irrelevant--no, his stepmother would never tolerate that--but it was rare to be genuinely noticed. He bit the inside of his cheek, looking at her sheepishly.

“Yes, thank you -- she--” Avery looked down at his attire, running his hands down the carefully tailored suit as if it still needed adjustment under her scrutiny. “I was advised that this is a more... classic... look. Can’t be trying to outshine the real beauty now, can we?” He raised his gaze to her again with a playful smile. “But hopefully still a suitable date nonetheless.” 

The eldest Lestrange offered his arm to his wife, prepared to direct them towards the floo that would connect them to his sister’s home. “I hope you don’t mind us arriving a little earlier than usual. With all Vivenne has been doing on her own lately, I figured she could use the extra help, even if it is just our support. I--”

If he were being honest, he had also been hoping to catch his brother-in-law before the festivities got too under way. After all, he didn’t want to rain on his sister’s parade after all she had gone through over the past weeks, but he had no intentions of letting Finley’s behavior pass by unaddressed. “I suppose we should also welcome our brother back...”

“Da, you are quite right. Is the same here…this is my struggle. I am not as versed.”

If Toma were not already inclined to believe in a higher power at work in the universe this miraculous chance meeting would have convinced him. He listened with intently as the other man spoke. The words were so true. Toma couldn’t have imagined himself being able to express the sentiment to eloquently in English, but he agreed wholeheartedly. There was no doubt in his mind this stranger must also work in some sot of trade, clearly one involving metals.

“A thing or two? I would not sell myself short if I were you,” Toma chuckled. He shook Avery’s offered hand. “Lestrange…? The Allomancy family, da? I am Toma Krum.” That made perfect sense. Of course he would know all about metals and metal charming then. “Ah. As I say, I am having such hard time here. This new broom. I want light strong material to bind tail. I am thinking two materials. One for the bind, but also need other material to look like feathers of an arrow.” 

Toma ran a hand frustratedly through his already untidy hair. He surely looked hopeless.

“Allomancy, yeah. I run this location and cater to most of Great Britain, if you ever need any work done that you’d rather not do yourself.” Of course, he didn’t want to imply that the other man was incapable. After all, Krum was a very large name in quidditch--he was sure the man knew what he was talking about, and Avery himself hadn’t done much work with brooms before. “It seems you shouldn’t be selling yourself short here either, friend. You know exactly what you need, let’s see if I can help you figure it out.”

Avery nodded, listening intently to the man as if he were a customer. It was rare that a customer actually cared about his opinion on the materials themselves--often it was left to his discretion, which was perhaps better in most cases--but it was nice to be able to have these kinds of conversations with someone. Granted, there was clearly a language barrier, but as someone who had moved from another country and had to spend more time speaking in his second language than he would have liked, he was sympathetic of the struggle.

Finley’s exchange with Marius had been an unpleasant one and interacting with any more Lestranges tonight seemed like too much to handle. And yet. It was just his luck to see Avery approaching, standing tall and charming and the kind of man that Finley used to be. He had once been confident like that. The thought made Finley straighten his back, greeting his brother in law with a warm smile. See. He still had the charm. Kind of. As soon as the edge crept into Avery’s voice Finley was reduced again to the nervous wreck he had become. 

“She certainly knows how to put on a party,” Finley said trying to keep the conversation light and friendly. He hadn’t thought about the response he’d receive from Vivienne’s brothers when he returned. If he had, he might have stayed as a chair. It was too late now, he just needed to face up to his actions and let Avery and Marius make their remarks. He suspected Avery’s would be much less about the possibility of Vivienne cheating on him and much more about what a piece of shit Finley was. 

“I’m fine thank you Avery,” he said a little too curtly. He didn’t want to talk about how he was. He’d done enough talking about his emotions spilling his heart to Vivienne. He was tired. 

Avery’s jaw tightened, the other man’s tone setting him more on edge than he would have liked to admit. As someone who once held a great deal of his respect (of which the placement of was still in the air following his disappearing act), the Lestrange heir had tried his best to be conscious of where the other man was coming from. However, as someone who had also abandoned the dearest person to his heart, he had no intentions of setting him free of his accountability for his actions. If they could not escape the wheel of societal obligation, what gave him the right to do so? Vivienne may have been more forgiving, but Avery had a job to do and family to protect.

“She’s always been the most organized one of us all. I’m fairly certain I’d never have made the move here successfully without her guidance.” Avery stepped in, close enough for them to have a polite, private conversation without being too close for comfort. 

There was much to be celebrated tonight, and Phoebe lifted her glass in a toast. Not only did her beer pong partner sink the winning shot, but her business partner from the across the table had also sunk a victory shot. This one was off pitch so to say and more of a physical blow then merely tossing ping pong balls into ridiculous plastic pink cups. It wasn’t any wonder to Phoebe that Danny Molina was behind such a waste of time. None the less, she did rather enjoy this Beers and Tears victory though not nearly as much as the one she shared with Sam and Avery. 

Allowing herself the much deserved reward, she brought her cup to her painted lips, sliding back its contents in one brisk movement. The burning sensation snaked its way down into the hollowed out depths of her core. Even if the smirk she now sported was a wicked one, riddled with self-satisfaction, she’d never forget her late brother’s values of decent sportsmanship and her own of practices maintaining trade relations. 

“Better luck next time, Lestrange.” Phoebe mused from across the table, a crimson smirk slithering across her lips as she exchanged glances from her pong partner to her business partner. “Didn’t think a jewelry nerd like yourself even knew how to shoot. I suppose there is much to be celebrated this evening.”

@raxlestrange

It had taken a while for Avery to allow himself to relax, what with all the social obligations to tend to and appearances to maintain. However, once the more routine elements of the party began to wind down, the party had begun to take a surprisingly pleasant turn. Sure, the socialites knew how to have a good time when the more watchful eyes turned tail and retreated home for the evening, but there was something delightfully juvenile about the games the American had started, a kind of carefree fun that Avery hadn’t experienced in a long time -- years, even. The allomancer had partied here and there in school when it hadn’t interfered with his studies, but as he became wrapped up in graduation, his engagement, and eventually his takeover of the British branch of the family business... he had nearly forgotten just what having fun meant.

His team’s loss had only been mildly disappointing; at the very least, he and Toma were in similar enough places in their lives to be a rather successful team of “grumpy old men”. It seemed his involvement had amused more than himself, however. Avery chuckled softly in spite of himself, tipping his drink to perhaps his most beneficial business partners as she shared her condolences. 

“This jewelry nerd was an athlete, once upon a time.” The metal charmer quirked an eyebrow teasingly. “It’s amazing the things we forget we’re capable of once we get caught up in life. Usually these parties are all work and no play for this charming heir... and who would have thought that Miss Maddock herself did more than just peddle goods for these kind of events.”

Going to social gatherings with her husband was a requirement of marriage. Even when she lived all the way in France, she tried to never miss an event where her attendance along Avery’s side was expected. She did so once in the first few months of their marriage and she got several letters from her parents about how disappointed they were and what a bad light she drew upon their name. Colette hated the thought of them being ashamed or disappointed in her, so from then on her attendance wasn’t to be questioned anymore, she’d be there at social events, hanging on his arm like the perfect pureblood wife everyone expected her to be. It’s not like she hated to be at such events, quite the contrary in fact, but it felt different when she knew that the decision to be there wasn’t in her hands, that it never had been. 

Tonights event was one thrown by Vivienne, her husband’s sister, so they had to go. Which meant that she needed to find something appropriate to wear and get ready. She needed to look perfect, put together and elegant. It took her about three hours from the bath to putting on her dress and make up and making sure that not one hair was out of place. The dress she chose was one she bought quite recently and she had not had the occasion to wear it yet. Colette thought it was gorgeous, champagne colored and fitting her like a glove. It wasn’t flashy color or cut wise, but she knew she looked good when she examined herself in the mirror. 

After putting on finishing touches she grabbed her purse and headed over to Avery’s quarters, figuring that he must be ready by now, knocking on the door waiting for him to come out so they could leave and attend his sister’s event. “Are you ready to go?” 

@raxlestrange

Avery had grown up with a younger sister, so he knew to an extent what the women in his life went through to get ready for big events such as Vivienne’s Valentine’s party. However, it was very different having his date getting ready in his own house. Granted, it was as much hers as it was his by default, but Avery had long since become accustomed to the estate being his space and spending a majority of his time in that space alone. They had been to plenty events together in their time as a married couple (and even before then, during their official courtship), but he had been much less aware of his wife’s process when it came to preparing for such events due to the lack of proximity.

He had been aware of the sacrifices and struggles young women in society faced to look every bit the part, but being cognizant of the three hours his wife had taken to prepare, it made her seem a bit more... human, in his eyes. Having resigned himself to being the distant spouse, attending to his work and estate and leaving Colette to her devices, it was hard to see her as anything but this unattainable being. Always out of his reach, so determined to push away from him and remain in her own little world on the Riviera. He didn’t blame her--she had been forced into this, after all--but it did leave him with a certain impression of her, mysterious and elusive.

Physically living with her had made this illusion of her blurry, the more he began to see her as a real human being and not just a woman on a pedestal. True, she was beautiful, and he knew himself to be very lucky to have been dealt the cards he had been given, but something felt different that time when he opened the door to see her waiting for him, bathed in silky champagne. Avery found himself speechless, not far from dropping his jaw in an obscene manner when he finally reeled himself in.

“Yes! Ah... yes, I’m -- I’m ready to go.” He ran a hand through his hair somewhat nervously, feeling underdressed in her presence despite the expensive suit he had been convinced by his sister to buy for the occasion. “You look... you look beautiful, as always. Shall we... get going?” 

Oh no, it’s happening. I’m not bro enough for a bro hug – I’m too short for a bro hug! Unfortunately, Mattie couldn’t stop himself from following suit, no matter how awkward it was to have his face in Avery Lestrange’s pillowy man bosoms whilst they commenced the ‘bro hug.’ He had to admit, though, he did enjoy how nice the gesture felt after being alone for so many months.

Avery was too polite, Mattie knew he looked like a mess. Though being homeless in a different country would do that to anyone, Mattie hated his appearance when he wasn’t homeless in England so he believed he was extra hideous. He wished he hadn’t gone into the shop, at least not yet. He didn’t want Avery to take pity on him, especially since he had so much money and Mattie didn’t. 

“I didn’t think so either,” he admitted, running a hand through his dark curls. “But when everything started I was told to head this way, been here ever since. And likewise, though if I would have thought about it a bit more I would have made sure to put a nicer outfit on – it’s so… pretty in here. Doesn’t feel like I belong in a shop like this.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been stuck here for so long...” Avery frowned. “It must be hard being stuck in a foreign country against your will, especially in these conditions. Are you taking care of yourself? Have you found someplace to stay?”

Avery couldn’t help but feel a little responsible. Of course he wasn’t foolish or egotistic enough to think that Mattie’s only reason to travel to Europe was to see him, but he had mentioned in the past that Mattie would be welcome with open arms -- and when he did find himself visiting, his experience had been anything but. 

“Oh, nonsense -- you can wear whatever you want in here. You’re welcome whenever you want, whatever you choose to wear! I just unfortunately feel naked with out the suit now, something like second nature.” Merlin, Avery was an awkward one. He didn’t have many people in London (or anywhere, for that matter) that he considered an actual friend and not just someone who felt socially obligated to interact with him or wanted something for him. Quite frankly, he didn’t know how to have real friends, and being so off key made him nervous.

At the sound of the stranger’s voice Toma started, if he could have jumped right out of his skin at that moment he certainly would have. So absorbed as he’d been in his silent and frustrating argument with the metals before him that he hadn’t even heard the other man approaching. It was most unlike him and he was in equal parts angry at being caught so unaware and embarrassed by his horrible jump of surprise.

It did not immediately penetrate his mind that obviously this stranger had spoken to him. What else after all would have pulled him from the bubble in which he had been so deeply instaunched. It hit him then that he was being rude.

“Ah well…” Toma trailed off.

He considered the words a moment in an effort to give himself a chance to look the stranger over briefly. The man before him looked oddly familiar. Surely they’d run into each other before, but Toma with his mind decidedly elsewhere was as hopeless with people as he apparently was with his metal selection. If he remembered names and faces it was because he had been specifically introduced to that person not just seen them somewhere sometime. So while it was entirely likely he and the man before him ran in a similar social circles, Toma couldn’t place him.

Finally Toma gave a gruff sigh of defeat.

“I was just considering buggering off and starting over tomorrow,” he said dropping a strip of some unknown metal into a near by bin. He dropped his voice so the witch at the front wouldn’t hear him. “That witch is horribly unhelpful.” Then returned to normal volume. “Looking for a good material to bind tail twigs together on a broom, but my suppliers back home…they just knew what I needed. Not used to searching it out.”

Avery gave a sympathetic nod.

“The problem is that many of the employees are just here to sell the product. Wizards become so reliant on magic sometimes that they don’t realize the basic functions that are required to manufacture the items that have become so commonplace to them. Even if you’re using magic to carve a broom, I imagine you have to know what woods work best and how they perform, non?”

The metal charmer realized he was rambling. Perhaps it was how familiar the man seemed, or maybe it was just nice to feel like he knew something more, or that someone might understand the plight of a man whose interests others rarely wanted to hear about. 

It wasn’t that Julian didn’t try to talk about work, but there wasn’t much else that he did besides work. He wasn’t doing much more aside from his typical duties: trying to keep the school from falling apart and making sure that his students left the school with enough knowledge to not be completely useless to wizarding society.

Not that he had been particularly good at doing that anyway; his career was totally destroyed, though could something be destroyed if it didn’t exist? Being a professor wasn’t something that he didn’t count on becoming. He sounded a little deflated when he confirmed his position, because there wasn’t much more to Julian but that. “Yeah. A professor.”

After having sustained a significant injury to his torso and having his mind literally invaded, but he was certainly done with people telling him what wasn’t possible. But he could acquiesce a little; he was thinking too much about the transportation when Apparition was possible and less about the applications. “Maybe just – something that’ll keep track of your plans for you, but not one that you’d need to write it – it’s like a rememberall but actually useful. Maybe one that’ll listen to you making plans and tell you what you need to do when you need to do it.”

Julian’s life was a goddamn mess, but he also didn’t stop talking.

“Language was tricky – so let’s start with something written! I know you don’t have a quill shop, but let’s say… if I wrote something in English… could the words change to be French? Could the quill figure out what I want to write in French?”

“A damn shame,” Avery teased. “Got a mind for inventing, if you ask me.”

He nodded along, brows furrowed as he considered the charms that would need to be layered to create such an effect. While charming objects did require a skilled hand, the nice thing about metal charming was that once someone figured it out, all you had to do was repeat the steps. It was a bit like potioneering in that sense. “Like you said, sounds like an advanced remembrall. I suppose you could use that as a starting point and make alterations... might even be able to get a kind of... extended call and response effect, yeah? Like what you guys call a... a howler, yes?” 

Avery was fortunate Gabrielle wasn’t more familiar with the concept -- though he reckoned if it were more socially acceptable to let a piece of parchment publicly humiliate your children she would have become more invested by now. “I imagine it might be possible if you’re working with the same alphabet, perhaps. Something with a similar structure.... though I suspect it can’t be that easy if it hasn’t been done yet. Another unseen obstacle, perhaps.”

Colette nodded once, shrugging. “I would tell you if I didn’t like it.” There was no reason for her to be mean now. She didn’t not get along with him on purpose, logically thinking she knew she could’ve done way worse than with Avery as a husband, but they just haven’t spent enough time together to get to know each other. Colette took most of the blame for that, but she knew that it wasn’t just her fault. Their marriage was one of convenience, not for themselves but for their parents. Her parents could’ve fixed her up with a dirty old man that thought he could make decisions for her instead of letting her have her freedom and she knew that. She had been stuck in England for months and yet she was still too proud and stubborn to take the first step and get to know the man whose last name she now shared. There hasn’t been much time they have spent together one on one and she was surprised to find out that it wasn’t wholly unpleasant. Not that she’d let him know that, of course.

Focusing on her sister she pressed her lips together, thinking for a moment before an idea popped into her head. “Would it be possible do put a color changing charm on the jewels that would change the color of the shoes? That way she’d always have shoes to match her outfits.”

The taller man tilted his head, making a subconscious effort to lean into the conversation, to really hear her and level with her on the subject. It wasn’t something he did often with customers even, but the challenge of developing something new was exciting... even more so perhaps because it was one of the first times she was actually allowing him to do something for her. Of course, his money did plenty enough already, but that was different. It was unusual for their relationship and he had trouble enough navigating it as it was, but he couldn’t help but be curious. He imagined to an outsider he must look pitiful, so hopelessly eager to connect with someone who so clearly had such little interest, but at the very least he was optimistic that they might some day be able to be at least marginally more comfortable around each other. 

While he had developed a keener eye for jewelry over the years, accessories did tend to be a bit more flexible and timeless than clothing. If it weren’t for Vivienne’s insistence he would be purchasing suits in the same silhouette and color palette for the rest of his life, but he always found himself gifted with something slightly more, be it more tailored or more buttoned or more bright.  “That should be simple enough! I may not be a very stylish guy on my own but if she were able to control it herself or if they were to do the work for her, we’d never have to worry that I’m no longer hip and cool,” Avery chuckled at his own expense.

Finley didn’t want this party to happen. He wasn’t ready to have so many people in their home, especially since he still wasn’t sure where he stood with Vivienne. He didn’t want them under a magnifying glass right now, and yet here they were about to welcome a whole host of almost strangers into their home. And it was for Valentines day. The worst holiday. It wasn’t usually Finley’s least favourite holiday but he just wasn’t feeling in the mood this year. Still, he knew Vivienne had put a lot of work into the party so he got dressed up and waited for the guests to arrive. 

It was the first time people would see him in public since he went on his ‘retreat’. He wasn’t ready for all the questions; about that or about the time he spent under the imperius curse. He only hoped that those who attended wouldn’t bring it up. If they did he might just turn himself back into an inanimate object. Maybe a spoon this time. 

He sat on the sofa awkwardly as guests filtered in the rooms slowly filling up. This was a party. He should be having fun, not feeling sorry for himself. He was a new person now. He didn’t have to worry about the ministry or his career prospects or what his father would think of him. He was going to have a good time. Or as good of a time as he could have. He started by standing up. Sitting at a party wasn’t the cool thing to do. Finley was cool now, he stood at parties. Although, the thing was he didn’t know what to do with his arms. Or legs. Did he just awkwardly sway to the music? 

He sat down again. He just wasn’t a standing person. At least he knew that now. he was learning lots of things about himself recently. He could talk to people though. Finley had always been good at appearing nice and normal for the press. He could do it at a party. 

“Thanks for coming,” he said approaching one of the guests. “How are you enjoying the evening?”

Avery felt something like a shark, having waded across the room exchanging pleasantries in the party’s early hours, biding his time. His eyes kept returning to his freshly reemerged brother-in-law, expression just barely hiding his intentions. If he were being honest, he had also been stalling, trying to decide how he was going to approach this. Of course he couldn’t make a scene, especially not with so many eyes on them -- on Finley in particular. He couldn’t do that to his sister who had worked so hard to put such an event together, nor did he want Finley to fail before he had even really gotten back on his feet. However, he couldn’t let a stunt like that go without saying anything -- not as a responsible family head, and certainly not as an older brother.

After having made his rounds -- knocking off most of his social obligations for the night in one fell, charming swoop -- he was finally ready to make his descent on his prey brother in law. With his business casual smile still plastered on his face and his scotch tucked neatly into his hand, he began to cross the room, taking in Finley’s awkward body language. He almost felt sorry for the man; it must have been disorienting helping host a party after returning from such a state, and considering what he had been through before... If he hadn’t chosen such an irresponsible way of dealing with things, Avery might have been more empathetic. 

remember not to get too close to stars,