#lestrangexrod

SEND ME ₪ FOR A DRABBLE OF OUR MUSES: BASED ON THIS RANDOM SCENARIO GENERATOR

Rodolphus discovers Orion’s terrible secret.

Kreacher was just opening the front door of Grimmauld Place when Roldolphus forced his way in, making the devoted house-elf fall on his back. He immediately called for his Master despite wanting to rip out Lestrange’s throat for the lack of respect. This was the House of Black, and Roldolphus should know his place. Kreacher was sure he’d get reminded of such and waited in the corner to see the show.

“Rodolphus! This is unexpected, but not entirely unwelcomed,” Orion smiled at his longtime friend as he descended down the stairs, buttoning up the cuffs of his shirt. Walburga was upstairs, putting on the finishing touches for their night out. “We were just about to leave. You caught us at a…”

Orion narrowed his eyes as he saw the steely look on the other man’s face. He took a few steps closer so they could speak quietly if need be, lines creased his forehead in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“I know,” was all Roldolphus said, a single eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. He kept calm, almost cold, as he waited for Orion’s reaction.

Orion’s jaw twitched, a short bubble of laughter erupted from his throat. “I’ll need specifics, old friend.”

What Roldolphus said next drained all of the color from Orion’s face and made his eyes glaze over.

Send me 💬 and my muse will describe yours in three words.

Charming, dedicated, elegant

January 1979

     ♞ HE’D NEVER BEEN TO THE LESTRANGE MANOR. As it turned out, none of the meetings held there had him as a participating member. Severus wasn’t sure if it was because of the lack of trust some members held for him, or just a coincidence. ( The universe was never lazy enough for a coincidence, though. )

     This time, he did need to speak with Rodolphus. What about, he was unsure of, but the Dark Lord had instructed him to work with the older man regarding something - his guess was that it had to do with the nightmare attacks they’d launched earlier. It seemed most probable - that was the biggest move they’d made recently, and for planning the next one, usually there would be a meeting. Not a one-on-one small talk session.

     A house-elf guides him to a living room - at least, he thinks it is one. It’s larger than anything he’d ever seen, but Severus had never been a man of wealth.

Lucinda loved quidditch it was the one time she felt truly free from everything. Flying through the air made her feel alive when nothing else did. She craved the feeling of the wind in her hair and the rush of having a singular goal, but unfortunately practice always ended which meant dealing with all of her remarkably loud team mate who only tolerated her because she was good at the sport.

A few weeks into being on the team Lucinda had found a quiet spot she’d go and hide after practice. It let her collect her thoughts and hold on to the pleasant and calm feeling from practice just a few moments longer. It was under the tent covering the stand where the audience sat. There was nice soft grass and sunlight slipped through the slits in the canvas.

Lucinda just as she heard a rustling of the fabric the entrance to her hideaway opening. In the entrance to her sanctuary stood Rodolphus Lestrange. Lucinda had never been fond of the older boy, he had been known to have a temper and Lucinda attempted to avoid torment where ever possible. Lucinda began to stand nervously stumbling over words. “Hi, um yeah, I was just leaving.”

Ministry of Magic, Minister’s Office

May 20th, 1979

@lestrangexrod

Hers. Everything around her was hers. The marbled floors, the gilded walls, all of it belonged to her. Sure, there were those who might disagree. That pathetic Order for one. But there was nothing they could do about it now. They’d won. Taken it all from underneath them. Bellatrix strode through the halls, her steps confident, taking in the the spoils of victory. Her pointed heels snapped sharply on the marble tile as she made her way towards his office. All around her were allies and those too smart, or cowardly, to speak out against the new regime. Every now and then someone was foolhardy enough to meet her eyes, but they quickly glanced away. A smirk lifted on her lips at their frightened expressions, but she did not pause in her stride. She had come on a mission, with a goal burning in her mind.

There it was. The office of the Minister of Magic. Her husband’s office, carefully guarded, though in her mind it was unnecessary. Their enemies were off somewhere licking their wounds and wouldn’t dare try to take back the Ministry so soon. She brushed past them, not bothering to state her reasons, knowing they’d not dare to try to stop her. Bursting in the room, she stood in the doorway and studied the office of her husband. Her eyes met every object and lingered upon them a moment, almost as if expecting it to jump at her with a hex, before moving on to the next. At last, she appeared satisfied and set them upon her husband.

 “Darling,” she drawled, spreading her arms wide. “Here we are. At last.” She spun around slowly, arms outstretched, admiring the space. Lowering her arms, she stepped towards him, that same bold stride, with a grin on her face. “I’ve let you settle in long enough, don’t you think?” It was of course only a matter of time before she dropped in at work.

Minister,

remember the scotch our parents used to hide from us? I have been searching for the bottle, but I just don’t know anything about our parents to even remotely guess where it could be. Huh, what a pity.

With utmost respect,

SEND ME A ‘★’ AND MY MUSE WILL POST A HAMILTON LYRIC THAT MAKES THEM THINK OF YOUR MUSE 

Emma holds Rodolphus very highly in her regard, as she does with the rest of his family when she sees them as some of the best of the best.

While she’s never one to admit it, she feels a certain amount of pressure when around him to not only meet his expectations of her but exceed them. For all she is quite happy just pleasing herself, if she had to choose a handful of people whose approval matter to her, he would be among them.

He is someone that she quite often chooses to keep their interactions to a minimum with unless he seems quite entertained by her- the shorter the interaction the less time she has to make a mistake. Despite that, she still tries to leave a lasting impression.

Always effortlessly polite, any nerves she might reluctantly feel while interacting with him are easily cloaked. She still manages to be charming and engaging, full of compliments and little jokes.