Evan Rosier

Rufus shook his head; a smirk across his face as he couldn’t believe what Evan was suggesting. “I’ll bring it up with Head Auror. I’m sure he’d be all over it.” He doubted Moody would actually let Evan put the other Aurors through that sort of test. “You are incorrigible, you know that right?” It was a rhetorical question. 

The conversation didn’t deviate, and it seemed that now the focus was to convince him to have a one night stand with someone. While he was well aware of the merits, they were short term. Of course, he knew he couldn’t just have everything at once, and a one night stand was a way of staving off the feeling of being constantly alone. Rufus chuckled when Evan toasted himself. The argument made was tempting. 

A small part of him dreaded what plan had been concocted. The Cheshire grin told him it wasn’t going to be something he liked. A club in France apparently. It sounded like a far away place to find whatever Evan was looking for. “A club in France? Do I look like the sort of person to go to a club? Let alone one in France.” He leaned back in his chair. “I mean, if you’ve got to mention that it’s legal… it sounds a little shady, Evan. Not to mention, isn’t that a little far to, you know… seems like there’d be something closer.” He put a finger up to stop the man from latching onto anything, “That’s not to say I’m agreeing to go any place like that with you. I’ve got a busy schedule. I could be called in at any time. Hell, I’m not entirely sure what my schedule is, so even if I did agree, I couldn’t tell you when.”  

It was likely an already lost battle. When Evan put his mind to something, it was sought through, and there was little Rufus could do about that. As difficult as it was for him to imagine himself at the club in France, somehow, he’d find himself there or somewhere else similar. It was just a matter of when. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but you do know that I can solve that issue myself, right? I just choose not to because I need to focus on work.”

Evan chuckled in retort and shrugged, “Alastor and I happen to be friends so you never really know.” he said lightly. Though by ‘friends’ he meant more ‘acquaintances’ but everyone could be a friend to him, it was one of his strengths to know all the right people. Besides, Moody and Dumbledore are thick as thieves, there was bound to be something there worth keeping an eye on.

It was rather easy really, a few little conversational jibes and suddenly the tables had turned from Bellatrix’s wedding to Rufus’ rather abysmal personal life. On the one hand it was the duty of his ever-charming persona to ensure the other had all he wanted, and on the other a man was always more inclined to speak when he was relaxed and happy. A night of good sex could certainly do that.    

He shrugged, “You will do when I’m done with you. I’ve decided to make this my new project Rufus so you might as well give up now.” he said lightly, “The only really I assured you of the legality is because I’m well aware of you position and, and I do mean this in the best possible way, you’re a real goodie-two-shoes.” Evan was loved by all but that hardly meant his persona was a saint, more likely he was a rogue really. “So you’ve no need to worry of it calling your steadfast respect for upholding all laws into disrepute.” he explained. “Distance isn’t a problem, I’ve got several friends in the international office who’ve often allowed the heath from my mansion to flu me right into the place. I’ll pick you up, we’ll have a drink at my place and head over. You’ll need some new clothes but we can get those sorted for you easily enough. I’ve an excellent tailor who’ll have you kitted out in half an hour.”

“Most are fools,” Antonin replied shortly. He had no doubt that people would spout whatever Evan had fed them. He was good at illusions, a master at creating a fake public persona that held up under scrutiny. People said exactly what Evan wanted them to say, without even knowing it.

He gave the other man a predatory smile. “Most do,” he replied, meaning most congratulated him on his restraint. He was known for his self control. In public, Antonin was perfectly composed most of the time. It was rare for him to lose his temper, though he was known to be impatient with incompetence. But any true frustrations or anger was vented in private, away from prying eyes.

Antonin shook his head with a dark chuckle. “Have you been asking people about my…follow through?” he smirked, raising a brow. He did not rise to the bait that he was all talk, nor that his performance was ever anything less than satisfactory. But he chose the partners he did for a reason. Discretion on both sides. And everyone got what they wanted.

“I’m flattered that you have been so curious, Rosier.”

“They are,” he agreed lightly, “Though that’s such an uncharitable description, I prefer to think of them as dolls.” he lent close and whispered into the other’s ear (from a distance it might’ve even looked salacious) “One big twist and off pops their head.” he lent back with a smirk on his face.

“You do know it’s a very boring life to shackle yourself so, yes?” he asked lightly, “We could be here today and gone tomorrow. I for one know that whenever I’m faced with the After I’ll stride forward proudly with no regrets.” A life as a ghost was certainly not how he’d he spending his eternity. “Can you say the same my friend?” Life was there to be won and lived; Evan excelled in both.

He chuckled, “I could, very easily, but in your case I was more curious about leaning first hand. Seems you’re not about to rise to the occasion though. So I shall have to make do with another.” Lady Dubois an he had plans for a little liaison after all. “How cruel of you to deny me.” he added, pouting for effect though there was no real meaning behind his words.

There was no getting around the topic, apparently. Evan wasn’t going to settle for his brief overview of past relationships. It just seemed odd to talk about them, or really just to talk about himself - another reason why he preferred to listen to others. The man did have a point; it was probably a good idea to talk to someone about everything that was going on in his head instead of keeping it bottled up and hoping the lid would hold.

Rufus couldn’t help but chuckle at the example he was hearing. Evan had a way of telling stories; a skill which Rufus knew he couldn’t compete with. It was intimate but left out important details, namely who this French woman was. He hummed in agreement, “Indeed you could.” The short description was probably enough to cause enough distraction for a few minutes before an interrogator realized that nothing important had been said. If an Auror had the misfortune of being one of Evan’s interrogators, they were in for a few sessions of cursing and banging their head against a wall.

It wouldn’t surprise him if Evan had set up the two women to be seated where they were. It was unlikely - more of a coincidence than anything - but again, wouldn’t be surprising. Rufus shook his head. “Course not. But…,” he wasn’t sure where he was going. There were several excuses he could say, mostly to do with his job. “I don’t know.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Tell you the truth, it’s hard leaving work at work, especially now. It was the reason for my last breakup. She got tired of being second to my job, not that I blame her, but I couldn’t give that up then.” He took a deep breath in and exhaled, lifting up his drink and taking another long sip. Even though it had been a while ago, he still felt a distant pang of guilt. One night stands hadn’t been uncommon, but he’d been relatively successful in keeping himself distracted.

Evan was right though, he was human with human weaknesses, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pick up fun tonight. “Anyway, if you want to go over to their table, I’m not going to get in your way. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow though.”

Evan was just as eager for information as Rufus was but his own desires weren’t limited to information on the inner machinations of the Aurors, though those were of course his prime objective. Just finding out more about Rufus, his past, his romances, it was all information that could be to his benefit down the line. And he was an expert out of making a great deal with very little.

“You know,” he grinned, “That sounds rather fun.” Leaning forward conspiratorially he continued, “Seeing how well I could throw off the other’s in your department with a little high society conversation. It’d be a very useful way to see who can actually keep on their tasks of not.” he chuckled, “And, not to toot my own horn but, if there were some rather attractive faces there I wouldn’t be surprised if I could entice them to see a very different set of information.” he raised his eyebrows and winked at the other taking another sip of his drink.

Evan sighed slightly and placed his drink down, now they were getting somewhere. interesting though Rufus’ work life balance was (and he would file it away for later use) he had a role to play and right now that role demanded putting his dear friend on the path to some carnal pleasure. He’d usually offer himself but it seemed sadly the other wasn’t so inclined. “Well, the beauty of the world is the variety of people in it,” he smiled, “Have you considered that perhaps you may not be the only person who desires a night of bliss with no expectations to follow up? That it can be fun and freeing and comforting for you and her? These are hard times my friend. Let yourself be free and sated if only for an evening; the world will still be there on the morrow.” Evan raised his glass in a small toast to his own words and took another sip.

Rodolphus rolled his eyes, biting his tongue at the retort that itched the tip of it. He knew exactly what had gone on the night of the Wizarding Statute and both were as equally to blame as the other. And if he recalled correctly, which he did, the older Lestrange had warned both of them to be on their best behaviour that night. A warning which had been promptly ignored. Their actions did not come without consequence, however and Rodolphus could only protect them from so much. If Voldemort knew just how deeply the Ministry was looking into these deaths, there was little Rodolphus could do to protect them. He hated the fact that they continued to put him in such predicaments. If they didn’t start listening to him, Voldemort would be the least of their god damned concerns. 

“Yes, well. Let’s not go that far, but it’s certainly a step in the right direction.” He responded smoothly, the ice blue of his stare locked on the younger wizard. “After tonight, you need to stay away from forest’s for a while.” It seemed nothing good ever came from them… he thought of the Veela residing in his guest bedroom with a pent up, pissed off wolf pacing tracks into the floor beside her this very moment. “I do hope this meeting pans out, Rosier. We can’t afford another loss right now.” 

Evan chuckled, “Come now dear Rodolphus, have I ever let you down? My methods may vary according to my mood but I always get the result required.” Evan didn’t fail, that was likely one of the reasons he was still held in high regard despite his penchant for grisly murder. “Even if it’s not all the goblin’s we’ll have enough of an in to learn more of Gringotts matters. If there’s one thing that holds true among all wizarding kind it’s a lust for money.” he chuckled, “I’ve suspected several individuals have been making it in ways we could use to our advantage. Plus our… activities aren’t cheap,” War was always rather expensive, even when they had magic at their disposal. Despite how good people like he and Rod were, a war couldn’t be won on skill alone.

There had been no compliment. Not in any traditional sense, though. But both men knew that declaring another brutal, heartless, and cruel was a positive for them. Though with Evan, even if it was an insult, he would twist it until he was it was what he wanted. He was an adept social manipulator. 

“You have a very high opinion of yourself, Evan,” he replied. “And while I’m sure that most people have thought about you like that, I can assure you I have not.” Evan was handsome, but his personality was enough to remind to remind Antonin to stay far away. Once you knew someone as he did the other, it was easy enough to see who he really was, rather than just the pretty face. 

He could appreciate Evan’s honesty, knowing that it was not easily won or given. And there were some women who were less than attractive. But money and magic fixed most problems, or at least allowed others to overlook them. 

Still, he shook his head, giving the man before him a look that was half amused half mock pity. “Good to know,” he replied, voice low as his chest rose and fell under Evan’s hand. Evan was a playful little flirt, and he would count it as quite the coupe if he were ever to discomfit or seduce Antonin. He leaned a little closer, bending his head until it was level with Evan’s ear. “So do I,”  he murmured, before straightening again. 

“Do I?” He asked lightly, “Most would be quick to tell you what a humble fellow I am.” He hadn’t poured decades of his life into building a perfect reputation for nothing after all and now more than ever he reaped the benefits of it. The spies of the Dark Lord could pick up bits of information, he’d have all information sung to him and written in triplicate if he so desired.

“Really?” He regarded Antonin for a moment, “Not once? Not in any way? If so I must congratulate you on your restraint.” Few others could say such a thing after having met him more than once and he somewhat revelled in being an object of lust and love those around him, it was a remarkable position to be in.

But, there was some truth to the idea of wanting what you didn’t have. Evan found he enjoyed putting effort into having the affection of those who at first had somehow found him anything less than a delight.

Evan’s offer to be a sympathetic ear was generous. Keeping everything in was hard at times; things ate at him, keeping him up some nights. It was a trait he was sure he inherited from his father. Still, breaking that mould wasn’t as easy as turning off a switch. Rufus mirrored the small smile, “Thank you for the offer.” He doubted he would consciously talk about his problems with Evan, but it was kind enough.

Rufus was happy to move on from that. Ever observant, Evan, too, had noticed the two women and made a show of friendliness which made the women giggle. An amused expression spread across his face; he doubted few could resist Evan’s charms. The conversation again turned personal, which was something he had hoped to avoid because chatting about personal things wasn’t going to get him very far with his goal for obtaining information. 

Seeing as he couldn’t skirt around the topic, he accepted defeat. Evan wanted to talk about exploits. Rufus took a long sip of his drink as he thought about past relationships. “Well, there’s been a few that stood out. Some I rather forget and some I don’t fully remember to be honest,” he answered with a small chuckle. “I’ve been a bit busy lately, so it’s been a while. I did have drinks with someone a week or so ago, but it didn’t go anywhere,” he shrugged, “apparently she’s not a big fan of Aurors, go figure.” There, he hoped that would satisfy Evan’s curiosity.

“Now, I suspect you have some fun tales,” he continued, again preferring to avoid talking too much about himself. It wasn’t that he had anything to hide from Evan, but he generally liked to keep his private life, well, private. Not to mention, he was sure that Evan could tell much more entertaining tales than he could.

He heard a burst of laughter come from the women’s table, making him look over at them once more. The two turned away as soon as he looked, talking to each other once more in hushed tones and giggling. It didn’t take an Auror’s training to work out what they might be saying to each other. He turned to Evan again, “You’ve encouraged them,” mocking admonishment. It wouldn’t surprise him if one of the women decided to walk over, which would very much throw his simple drinking night out the window.

While Evan doubted he’d be getting any useful information anytime soon he was an expert at playing the long game; plying Rufus with bits of little and useless information which may have seemed like more and being an honest confident till the other finally gave in or perhaps slipped and said something beyond what would usually come. That was all it could take really, he could do an awful lot with an awful little.

“An offer I doubt you’ll be taking up anytime soon.” he said, no judgement in his words, “Though, if I might. Since you may not wish to talk with me, find someone you can trust, these matters must weigh heavily upon your mind and heart and there’s only so much a soul can take before it breaks.” That he was managing to dispense his worried advice and at the same time enamour the two woman behind them was a duality that had taken years to perfect.

When the other decided to talk about this at least Evan chuckled and lent in rather close to hear all the rather lacklustre details. “That my friend is a cop-out.” he said lightly, “We’re friends, no? You must share details properly if you wish to have your story accepted.” he chuckled and continued, “For example, I have a regular acquaintance of French descent I meet every now and then and by Merlin the woman is skilled.” he chuckled again, lowly this time, “Her skin like alabaster, hair of sunshine blonde, legs which a man could get lost kissing his way up.” he sighed happily, “I spent a great deal of time between said legs,” he wiped his thumb across his lip, “You must take time to make a woman happy, yes? There’s something so very empowering about it.”

This was the Evan Rufus knew, a rake, but a charming one who managed to part from all lovers with both satisfied and friendly. “See, that is how you tell a story without giving away any potentially incriminating details.” he winked, “I could play havoc with your interrogators.” Right now he suspected he partly was.

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It took everything Alastor had not to roll his eyes at Evan’s little act. The boy was good, he had to give him that. The problem was, Sirius had been a part of Alastor’s life for long enough now that he knew better, he saw through it all. He knew the rattled expression he wore whenever he parted ways with any of his Kin. Was reminded of it again the other night, during the Wizarding Statute. These weren’t good people, and Druella… well, he had select words to say about her. Alastor focused instead on the drink in hand, keeping his expression as open and neutral as a stranger talking to a snake charmer. 

He cocked a brow, wondering if Evan’s choice words were a threat or not. He knew damn well how to guide Sirius, had been doing it far longer and far more efficiently than his family ever had. If only he’d gotten to Regulus in time, perhaps the boys could have had a very different life. He feigned confusion as Evan turned his head. “What do you mean?” Experience some of what… the Blacks as enemies? Highly unlikely. “Has something happened, Rosier?” His deep baritone feigned care, but frankly… he just wanted to know what the hell the guy was playing at.

In all honesty, it didn’t matter a great deal if Alastor believed him or not, he had no evidence to call him on it and the word of a young Auror with a temper (a well-known temper as gossip spread) against someone with his reputation would only end in Sirius’ downfall and the downfall of those who sided with him. Evan held all the cards and he planned on keeping the affair that way. “It’s, well it’s rather a long story,” he began, turning away slightly, looking down into his drink, “I’m beginning a charitable affair. It’s recent but several ministry contacts are on board, even the minister himself.”  

“When I was a young boy I had a friend in Hogwarts, we were thick as thieves, I helped him understand the magical world and he told me about the muggle world in return; he was a muggle-born you see.” Evan took a long swig of his drink, “We were in Hogsmeade, a class trip in my fifth and he just… vanished. No one could find him. People say many things but I’m sure it was because someone didn’t like the picture of a pure-blood Rosier and muggle-born nobody from nowhere…” he whispered the last, looking down into his half-full glass. “So, I’m starting a charity, designed to help muggle-borns with funding and sessions to understand more of the magical world in the formative years they’re exposed to it.”  

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Her silence was satisfying enough. There was a power balance between them, gracious as he often was to pretend it was not so. He’d been born to glitter and gold; she’d clawed her way to it. And while he did respect that drive and determination, the simply fact that they were two different breeds of people.

“Yes,” he stretched the word out and chuckled lowly, “Of course I’d only use it at the most formal occasions, I am still and forever a man of the people.” he hadn’t spend decades of his life building that image up so perfectly to cast it aside now when it could be his most powerful weapon.

He nodded and chuckled once again, “Indeed. Growing up around such things you watch and you learn; though I suppose there’s none more expert in that methodology than a reporter of your calibre.” he said with a small gesture. Sadly the cage of expectations sunk lower on them all day by day, but at least he and the Lady had ensured it was gilded a cage as possible.

“Well that is the plan. To be a rather influential pair.” If all went to plan by that point the Dark Lord’s will should rule the country and he could take all the mud-bloods and muggles to play with as he pleased for the good work he’d done in helping that cause along. His loyalty was always to himself first and foremost after all.

“And a French mansion to holiday in every summer isn’t exactly a hardship either.” He’d already snuck there to visit her once; it had the most wonderful beds.

And so the matter was dealt with. Evan often lived in the moment as much as he schemed for the future. He’d been wronged, considered a vicious response but moved past the impulse and all could return to normal. Such processes had been difficult in his younger years but he’d trained himself to them well.

“Wonderful, I’d so hate for us to be at odds on such a wonderful day.” For he supposed it was indeed that, Bella was happy and she was one of the few he genuinely cared for (as best he could) so he could behave and joyous would remain the affair. At least until Bella’s patience snapped and she cursed an irritating guest.

“Oh my sweet, I can promise you, you’ve never seen me truly cross, I wouldn’t recommend it. I tend to show my teeth.”

It was all smiles and winks but also completely true, and his teeth were vicious fangs. “Indeed. My card is full for the evening but perhaps we can find you another suitor for the evening. Lady Dubois brought several friends with her, Monsieur Vette is a handsome man and, I can confirm, a highly attentive partner.” And what time for a quick bedding than a wedding?

“I’ll introduce you both, then attend to My Lady.”

Evan wouldn’t have to use the title himself. Those who loved him or sought his approval would do it without his even having to ask. Anyone who knew the man could guess how he’d thrill to hear such a title trip from their lips. He was a preening peacock, with the cruel streak of a much larger, more vicious bird. “Of course,” she agreed anyway, pursing her lips and nodding.

She inclined her head in thanks of the compliment he threw her way again. If Rita was not an adept observer, she wouldn’t have a career, wouldn’t have a life. She was intelligent and tenacious enough to be a survivor, but she wanted more than just survival; she wanted to thrive.  

“I don’t think any of that sounds like a hardship,” she replied. He had his whole life planned out, every privileged step of it. And Rita had no doubt Evan would follow through on his plans. For all that he gave the appearance of being an easy going dandy, he could be absolutely determined when he set his mind to something.

She was almost envious of the ease with which he accomplished it all. A beautiful woman as his future, more beautiful women in between him and commitment, a title, properties likely all over Europe, and the money to achieve all that and more with barely the wave of a wand or the lifting of a finger.

“I’d hate for us to be at odds at all,” Rita answered sweetly, pressing a hand to his arm. For all that it was a prudent answer, it was also the truth. She had seen the coldness in Evan’s eyes, the cruel edge to his smile that turned his handsome face into something hard and frightening. She had seen how he managed to manipulate and coerce to quietly take down his enemies, feeding her the gossip needed to aid in their downfall.

The blonde had no doubt that she could survive anything Evan threw at her, but they were alike enough that she knew it would be a challenge. It would be more than that. It would be a war.

She gave him a graceful smile, eyebrows arching in mild amusement. “If you insist,” she said graciously. She did not need his charity, but it never did hurt to meet a handsome foreigner.

“Lead on, My Lord.”

“I suppose you think yourself rather brilliant; don’t you, cousin?” 

All this plotting in secret. And for what? To finalize the union when it was most convenient to them? It was ridiculous. He had to know that. Marriage was a contract, meaningless beyond the merging of bloodlines, wealth, and procreation of pure blooded babies. She and Rodolphus were fortunate to actually love and care for one another, but those things were neither necessary nor common in marriages of their pedigree. 

Her brows shot up. “Forties or fifties,” repeated Bellatrix, incredulous. She blinked, shook her head, then met Evan’s smirking gaze again, not missing a step as they both continued to glide through the dance. “Evan, I knew you were mad but I didn’t think you were foolish. Why not just marry the girl and have your fun anyway?” 

It was what their kind did. Married for appearances and alliances, and whored around in secret. There was no strategy in waiting, no benefit beyond the absence of a ring and the responsibilities and expectations that came with it. But if they were both so desperate to fuck to their hearts content with as many partners as they could find, then those responsibilities and expectations changed to best serve their needs. 

Not interested in either meeting or knowing his intended, she ignored his assumption about if she’d like her, and focused instead on his scoffed admission to not being young forever. “If she is a lady then she has her own expectations to fulfill, cousin. Do you think her family will permit her to wait until she is forty or fifty to marry? If she’s as politically savvy as you claim she is, then I doubt she’ll wait. There’s no advantage to it. Not when she can continue to fuck you on the side anyway.”

The benefit to this conversation was that Bella was no longer jealous. Bella was content to dance with Evan, to be spun, and lifted, and led by him through the steps of the familiar dance. She was happy to spend this time with him, to steal these precious moments of conversation and debate while the band played. Her smile stretched wider when Evan confessed to his pride in her, and she affectionately squeezed his hand and shoulder. She leaned up to kiss his cheek. 

“Oh,” asked Bella, “you mean the pleasure of your attendance and this dance aren’t my gift?”

“You know I rather do come to think of it.”

He spoke the words lightly but they were true. Evan had worked out the best solution to what was (in his mind) an shackling of himself for the remainder of his years. Given the reputation he’d put blood sweat and murder into crafting he was not about to put any aspect of it in danger by risking being seen out and about with others when he was ‘happily married’ off.

“Because my dear it’s all in the execution.” he said lightly, “It’s no secret I have my fun with a great many lovelies and shall be an all but confirmed bachelor by that time. And then, what happens?” he said lightly, continuing to move them through the dance with ease and grace.

“A woman appears who, like myself, was all but confirmed a lost cause, and we come together in blissful true love, marry in moments and shock society with how, perfect we are for one another.” That was what it always came down to for him, a perfect illusion. One that would have all around him (and her) shocked, awed and then so happy for them. Followed by the grandest of weddings that, like tonight, would be attended by all.

“Because Dear Cousin, she’s utterly enamoured with me and has her parents completely at her mercy.” he said lightly, “It was one of the things that made her seem a bearable mate. Like myself she will not be forced to anything she does not desire. Honestly if only she were a little more murderous I’d say it truly was a perfect match.” But, one could so rarely have what Bellatrix had found with Rodolphus, Evan wasn’t sure he was capable of it. “Also,” he smirked, “I know far too many of her dirty secrets for her to risk breaking anything off.”

Evan laughed lightly, “Oh no no, that simply wouldn’t be enough for my dearest of dear cousins.” he lent close again and whispered for her ears only, “I took some time procuring a very special someone for you to have your fun with my dear.” he lent back and spun her out, then in and continued, “Remember your old ettiequte teacher? A very stern young woman who took pleasure in attempting to beat manners into you?” his cheshire grin grew, “Do you recall, aged sixteen telling me how you’d love to make her choke on her own rulebook?”

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Evan chuckled, “Quit the opposite my dear. When you pretend if covers a blazing inferno, and it thus, all but impossible. When I pretend it covers a more… icy interior and it a greta deal easier.” Evan pretended for his own benefit at times, he didn’t like looking at himself and seeing an utterly blank canvas, nothing. It was better for all that his carefully crafted facade never crack, never utterly leave him.

In all honestly Evan couldn’t give up his mask, it wouldn’t end well for any involved and he’d rather ensure the safety of his family, his name and his kind by finding an outlet. So he had. The thrill of bloodlust, of taking all from those he could had been found early and proved invaluable to him.

Without that… Well, he wasn’t sure what he’d have done to ensure all remained as it should. The world was so boring, so pathetically base. But, he’d found a way to endure, and found a way to ensure Bella did as well.      

Evan smirked, “You may make light of it, Dear Bella, but I wasn’t there counting my gallons. To use the common phrase I put in work. By the end of it the lady in question was begging to the high heavens for me to give her reprieve.” he chuckled, “I have to say, in a strange way I rather enjoyed it. It’s like giving a man head, yes? In that moment you’re int the ultimate position of power. You control how and where the affair shall go and can ensure pleasure of denial.” he chuckled lightly, “That is what it all comes down to you? Rod, for example is a powerful man but get his dick hard and in your hand and you’re the one directing the narrative.”

Evan was far from overly concerned with the sexual performance of others, but it was fun to poke jokes at Bella and her soon-to-be husband. Evan had no doubt that Rodolphus was enough, or else Bella wouldn’t have entertained him to begin with. Bella’s chuckles were infectious and soon Evan found himself laughing along with her guessing it was at his expense and Rod’s experience. Either way it was still funny so Evan was happy to chuckle along with her.

“Well, if only for the excuse to see him in action.” Evan said with a few more chortles. “I wouldn’t think his perfomance too sub-par or else why would still be here with him?” He said with another laugh, “But can you really deny a man the sight of Rodolphus Lestrange in the act?” The man was a towering figure and Evan could very well imagine him ready to go, it was a tantalising image.

Evan smirked at her, “Then I am pleased.” he said, “I’ve wanted many thing for you Bella and a decent man is one of them.” he told her, “A fate worse than death to be saddled with an inferior partner for the sake of bloodlines.”

“Wasn’t it just?“ he groaned, “All those damn so-called purebloods running about revelling in their cowardice and thinking they had any reason to celebrate it.” he scoffed and took another drink of his wine. It was ridiculous, the pure-bloods daring to be happy about going into hiding. He knew the Dark Lord loathed such a celebration too. Perhaps that was why he and Fenrir hadn’t been truly punished for their murders during the event. He knew as well as they did that the whole thing was a load of rubbish. Honestly, he’d tried nothing less than to ensure some dignity returned to the evening.

“Oh yes,” He assured her with a grin, “A french witch of the highest degree, but I cannot tell you more details than that, I’ve sworn the purest oaths not to tell of any identities.” he chuckled, “But it was a marvellous time all round.”      

An airy laugh left her in a huff. Bellatrix lifted her brows, muttering, “Says a man who’s never given Rod head.” Even with her hands or mouth wrapped around his cock, it was a rare occasion when he allowed her that bit of control. He was more inclined to fuck her face, and she was more than happy to let him. The ‘narrative’ was her giddy submission. Bella was in no hurry to change it.

Evan’s comment had her doubled over, in tears, arms wrapped around her aching middle as laughter poured out of her. Her amusement was spurred on by the sound of his laugh joining hers. She was overwhelmed by it, overtaken, tears spilled from the corners of her eyes and a minute passed before she’d contained herself enough to lift her face from the table’s cool surface and wipe at the corners of her eyes, chuckles still leaving her in bubbling bursts as she struggled to catch her breath. Bella looked toward Evan, grinning, choking back another round of laughter. 

“I wouldn’t dream of denying you anything, cousin.”

Talk of the Wizarding Statute had a more sobering effect. She cleared what was left of her amusement from her throat, dabbed at her eyes, and breathed in a steadying breath. Bella shook her head at their people’s weakness, her smile fading as she gave it thought. “I, for one, am glad that you did what you did. It was the reminder we all needed.”

Before she could insist that Evan be more forthright with a detailed account of his sexual escapades after his fun in the forest, there was a tapping at the kitchen window. “Hold that thought,” she said, downing the rest of her wine before slipping from her seat to stride to the window and meet the owl waiting on the ledge. The window was pushed open and she accepted the missive from the owl, absently stroking its feathery chest as she read the letter, sighing at the elegant script. The owl was paid with a slice of ham before Bella turned to face Evan again, expression flat and distaste in her eyes. 

“Mother would like to discuss wedding plans. Come with me. You know she prefers you to me, and I might not survive without you to keep me company.”

“That is precisely what I was saying,” Antonin replied, fixing Evan with a look. For all that much of the world saw Evan as harmless and good natured, Antonin had never been fooled. But like was drawn to like. And if Evan had passed on much of his knowledge to Bella, the same could be said of Antonin and Evan. 

They had different tastes and different methods, but certain things could be taught, interests aligned. What Evan did, he did for fun, but they both expressed their pleasure in different ways. 

Antonin rolled his eyes at Evan’s display. “How kind of you,” he said dryly. “But I think you’ll find that only a fantasy in your own mind.”  He had no intention of taking the younger wizard to bed or anywhere else really. The man was already incorrigible. Sleeping with him would only give Evan the impression that Antonin actually liked him when it really would be more about bringing the reckless wizard to heel.

Evan was not the type to admit he was giving up control, though. He was a foolish pup who thought all the world was a game, a spoiled, privilege man who thought he could–and would–always win. It didn’t help that he was so often right. Evan could get away with murder. And had.

Antonin raised a hand, swatting Evan away from his ear. “I think the ladies I have been with would take offence to being called crones,” he replied mildly. And he didn’t go for the ones who would be dry as dust, or pure as fresh driven snow. Antonin liked the ones who were so eager to please they would do anything. Or the ones with a fire in their bellies they didn’t know what to do with.

Evan knew what to do with his fire. 

Still. Antonin stepped closer, crowding into Evan’s space. He looked down at the man. “You seem to have thought a lot about this, Rosier,” he said, his tone low. In the right light, there might also have even been a twinkle in his eye. 

Evan smirked at other’s bluntness. While it may have been somewhat pointless to keep up his little facade when it was only the two of them speaking it wasn’t easy for him to give up what he’d spend decades hiding behind. Only in very specific situations did his true form rear it’s deadly head, otherwise, he was pleasant as a lark.

Antonin would understand on some level, after all the man had a vicious streak just as him but he knew he didn’t behave that way while doing his Ministry work, he couldn’t. They all wore masks; both as Death Eaters and humans.

“You compliment me so much Antonin,” he said lightly, smirking at the other, “What else is a man supposed to think when another talks of his deeds and mannerisms so very highly.” he said with a grand gesture, “Besides, you shouldn’t protests, it’s alright if you’ve about it. I’m fairly certain that most people here have,” he rather enjoyed being an object of lust, the power rush was, well... exquisite.    

Even when another thought they were in power he still knew exactly what he was doing and why. Playing the flower when he was in fact the serpent under it, even around his own kind. After all some snakes were cannibals and while he loved playing with those around him he possessed the capacity to turn on them the moment it suited him best.

Some may get better warnings than others but all risked being victim to him if they came between him and what he desired. “Why do you think I whispered it for your ears alone?” he pouted, drawing back from the other’s hand, his eyes full of mirth in contrast to his lips. “I’d never be so uncouth face to face.”

Not unless he was having his real fun.

Evan chuckled and sook his head, “Spoken by one driven by logic and little else. There’s so much more to the world than uniformity, dear Taron. Indulging in fantasy offers an escape to those who find the trials of the modern just a little too much to bear.” Weak souls who were so easy to manipulate.

Silence played a big part in conversations of their class. A person could say as much with no words as they could with several sentences. Evan was an expert and this and the slight curl of his lips as he took another gentle sip of his champagne conveyed his amusement to the other rather easily. It was fun (if mean) to play with the less socially skilled. He could read along with practically every though the other had, not always correct of course but often close enough. He knew other’s couldn’t have been born with his natural talent and he went to great lengths to ensure people continued to think it was all natural. But the skill was far from that. He worked hard at every occasion to hone his social skills and ensure he was always making the correct decision. Everything from ensuring he knew the business of all other members of high society to controlling his own use of voice were crucial to always coming out on top.    

“Well, it’s not my job to try and convince other’s of your life choices, Taron.” he said evenly, “Do you think my parents were happy when I decided that friendliness could be extended to people regardless of their blood status? You’ll find that wasn’t the case.” he shrugged and took another sip of his drink, “But, I presented my case to my father about the need for uniformity between all wizard-kind and he soon saw things my way.” Especially when he’d slaughter a filthy mud-blood during his Death Eater initiation, he’d guarded his true self even from his parents, the Dark Lord had been impressed by his ability to navigate the social world and promised him what he craved in for his loyalty. He sighed and shrugged, “In honesty? It sounds boring, terribly terribly boring. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my years, Taron, it’s that simply because a status quo stands, doesn’t mean it will endure.” Their current society stood as an example.  

What other way was there to be lead? Logic was the only way to live one’s life, Taron believed. Uniformity would be found but it wouldn’t be imposed. One would still be free to live their life, follow their passions and enjoy themselves. If anything it would be much easier if nobody were distracted by the illusion of what might have made them lesser or superior to others. Of course, people were far too attached to the status quo to follow anything else. It wasn’t like Taron wanted to overturn the establishment and eat the rich, he just wanted them to stop thinking that having money and ‘pure’ blood made them better than those without. Somthing that Evan apparently agreed with, going by his words. Taron didn’t believe it for a second. The only status quo that people like him wanted to destroy was that of muggles having dominance over wizards. Sure, it would be nice for wizard kind to be free to practice magic without fear of being burned at the stake but everyone knew that muggles, as a collective, weren’t capable of accepting that which they saw as a threat.

In all honesty, Taron couldn’t have cared less what Evan’s parents thought of anyone. That was his whole point. Though he could see that he wasn’t going to get that across. The older man was always going to find a way to twist what Taron said and make himself appear the benevolent socialite, exercising grace and class. So, he did something he thought he would never do. “You know what, Rosier.” He said, smiling wide and maintaining eye contact. “You’re right.” It was sincere and free of any mockery that such a statement would normally be laced with from Taron. “I believe we finally found something to agree on.” Rather than digging at Evan and prolonging a conversation he never wished to begin in the first place, Taron bowed out with grace. “Now, I’m afraid I must be leaving. Father will never forgive me if I stay sat here all night. Must mingle.”

Taron drained his glass, rose from his seat and gave Rosier a curt nod before making his way back into the fray.

It was helpful to gain some insight into Bellatrix - really any insight into anyone in the pure-blood families was helpful, since he only knew about them at a superficial level. It was a tough nut to crack, but he was a tenacious bastard; one day he’d find out what he wanted to know.

“It’s the missing people and brutal killings that mainly keep me up. But I think I stand a good chance at sleep tonight.” In truth, he had no idea if old cases would creep into his head, or more likely, the two bodies in the woods would have him sitting straight up in bed with cold sweat. That was hours from now, and he wasn’t going to let the future deter him from an evening with his friend. If he was fated for a restless night, then there wasn’t much he could do about it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a lot of practice running off of a few hours of sleep. Although, getting older didn’t help with his ability to cope.   

Rufus scratched the side of his chin thinking about Evan’s answer about what pure-bloods knew. It didn’t surprise him that just about everyone knew of such things; they were in the papers for one and also, there were plenty of pure-bloods holding high positions in the Ministry. Hell, they probably all knew more about what was going on than him, which was annoying. “So, what do you all talk about, besides arguing over wedding plans?” A smirk appeared before he lifted his glass. He took another sip of his drink, and as he did so, noticed that there was a table nearby where two women sat - it looked as if the women were quietly talking among themselves and casting occasional glances at their table.

Not wanting to have anything to distract him from his opportunity to try to get information from Evan, he paid little attention to the women. They were both busy people, and it would be foolish to squander the time they had scheduled. Even while off duty, he still felt like he was working in some capacity. He glanced around the pub again, and chuckled to himself. “Just thinking about what you called after me for - being set upon,” he shook his head, “you’d probably have them flat on their arse before they knew it.”

This was all information Evan didn’t mind giving away; after all he was but a well meaning socialite who couldn’t help but fall to gossip considering how he was raised; Rufus could do nothing useful with the information save to consider Evan a dearer friend for the effort.

Evan sighed slightly, “I cannot imagine it, truly, to have to work in such darkness and gore.” he swirled his drink and took a sip, “You’re a stronger man than I. But, I would wager I’m more skilled when it comes to talking about what ails you.” he said with a small smile, “Even if it’s only that. So please, don’t hesitate to speak with me, over a drink or no, if you’ve something weighing on you. You’d be amazed how much better it makes you feel,” he said with a small toast of his glass and another elegant sip. As with every relationship he entered into their needed to be some benefit to him; getting any information out of the auror was what made all this viable after all.

Evan pursed his lips in thought as he watched the other, noting his eyes flicking over and turning his head slightly, catching sight of the two woman. He let a slow smirk curl at his lips and raised his glass to them as they glanced their way, blushes and giggles followed as Evan turned back, “Hmm, delightful. There’s something fulfilling about making a woman happy, I’ve found.” he paused, his smirk still present and continued, “Actually, there’s a fun topic. Tell me my friend, when was the last time you made a woman happy? Or the last time one made you happy?” Romance was an easy topic for him and he’d noticed there was often a great deal it revealed about a person once they opened up.

She held her tongue as he chided her, taking it all in stride. Evan’s moods were mercurial and, where one day, he might find amusement in that sort of humour, another could result in something completely different. She was used to holding her tongue and letting those who thought themselves better than her speak.

“It certainly has a certain ring to it,” Rita nodded. “Lord Rosier.” She rolled the name around in her mouth, savouring the taste because she knew he’d enjoy the sound. The man would take full advantage of that position and opportunity, just as he had all others. “I think that you have it all planned out,” she added, knowing he wasn’t really asking her opinion. 

He had taken his fate and future into his own hands. She wondered whether Lady Dubois had the same level of independence in France from her family. A man could dictate to his parents; a woman didn’t always have the same luxury. But then, there were some things the French were so laissez faire about. She had seen–and felt–evidence of it herself in her travels there.

She laughed, shaking her head. Any excuse for sex, really. Although of course compatibility was important in a marriage that wasn’t made only for convenience. Evan would enjoy many perks from the position, true, but he did so value sex, and frankly rightly so. Anyone who said it didn’t matter hadn’t been having good enough sex.

“The world had better watch out when you two do make it official,” she commented lightly. “If she’s as charming as you say–and as you are–you’ll be a formidable pair.”

His apology was both surprising and expected. As Rita already knew–as he had said many times in this very conversation–Evan was a charmer. A man who preferred adoration to fear. She was glad that he was not harbouring a (visible) grudge, though. For all that Rita had other sources, Evan was one of her best. 

“Of course I accept, darling, think nothing of it,” she reassured him. “I also apologize for my response. It was automatic, and frankly, low of me. I do hope you’ll forgive me,” she lowered her head contritely. When Rita did apologize, she did so magnificently, just like her counterpart before her.

“I would so hate to make you cross.” 

She laughed, low and sultry, and shook her head. “A thought for another time, dear,” she replied. Her tone indicated interest, though she committed herself to nothing. Rita was not entirely sure he was serious to begin with. If he was…well she was not entirely against it.  He was a very handsome man after all. And there would be no feelings between them. Just excellent sex, of that Rita had no doubt. 

“As you said, Lady Dubois is waiting for you.” 

Her silence was satisfying enough. There was a power balance between them, gracious as he often was to pretend it was not so. He’d been born to glitter and gold; she’d clawed her way to it. And while he did respect that drive and determination, the simply fact that they were two different breeds of people.

“Yes,” he stretched the word out and chuckled lowly, “Of course I’d only use it at the most formal occasions, I am still and forever a man of the people.” he hadn’t spend decades of his life building that image up so perfectly to cast it aside now when it could be his most powerful weapon.

He nodded and chuckled once again, “Indeed. Growing up around such things you watch and you learn; though I suppose there’s none more expert in that methodology than a reporter of your calibre.” he said with a small gesture. Sadly the cage of expectations sunk lower on them all day by day, but at least he and the Lady had ensured it was gilded a cage as possible.

“Well that is the plan. To be a rather influential pair.” If all went to plan by that point the Dark Lord’s will should rule the country and he could take all the mud-bloods and muggles to play with as he pleased for the good work he’d done in helping that cause along. His loyalty was always to himself first and foremost after all.

“And a French mansion to holiday in every summer isn’t exactly a hardship either.” He’d already snuck there to visit her once; it had the most wonderful beds.

And so the matter was dealt with. Evan often lived in the moment as much as he schemed for the future. He’d been wronged, considered a vicious response but moved past the impulse and all could return to normal. Such processes had been difficult in his younger years but he’d trained himself to them well.

“Wonderful, I’d so hate for us to be at odds on such a wonderful day.” For he supposed it was indeed that, Bella was happy and she was one of the few he genuinely cared for (as best he could) so he could behave and joyous would remain the affair. At least until Bella’s patience snapped and she cursed an irritating guest.

“Oh my sweet, I can promise you, you’ve never seen me truly cross, I wouldn’t recommend it. I tend to show my teeth.”

It was all smiles and winks but also completely true, and his teeth were vicious fangs. “Indeed. My card is full for the evening but perhaps we can find you another suitor for the evening. Lady Dubois brought several friends with her, Monsieur Vette is a handsome man and, I can confirm, a highly attentive partner.” And what time for a quick bedding than a wedding?