Starter for: Frank Longbottom @franklongbottom-fm Where: Hogsmeade When: afternoon
Revenge had been a long time coming. Rabastan was a very patient man. He was not easily riled. Frankly, he should have been sainted for his self-control with Longbottom until now. It had been many months since Frank nearly killed Alecto. Rabastan's temper was hanging by a thread, not because of Frank, but because he'd been dealing with Hestia Jones and the case of his mysterious doppelganger. He'd spent the afternoon in the Auror Department, answering questions and insisting on updates, while trying to get a look at every one of their wretched staff to see if any had yet fallen victim to the curse that would identify them. Nothing of interest happened. He didn't even have the enthusiasm to toy with Hestia's memory of when he cursed her.
So when Rabastan's path crossed with Frank's, he found himself unreasonably angry and decided - there and then - that he had finished biding his time. He was tired of witnessing injustice. He was done with the Ministry's hypocrisy and the oppression of purebloods. The war was still raging, its end far from sight. But this was a correction he could easily achieve. It was necessary to rectify the balance. It was correct to punish this crime.
He'd overheard where Frank would be sent later that afternoon. So he got there first and waited. He'd already cleared his schedule, having expected to be at the Ministry for some hours. By the time Frank appeared, Rabastan had calmed. He followed him with his eyes, his ice-like stare honing onto the other wizard's back as he moved through Hogsmeade's bustling streets. Hogwarts' students were out in full force, filling the cobbles and causing convenient distractions. Setting off behind Frank, he stepped quietly and decisively, moving with practised, predatory ease. The children ignored him, too engrossed in their antics to notice as he moved silently past. He caught him in an alley between two buildings, grabbing him from behind and forcing him into the shadows with his wand shoved firm against his neck. The sense of impending vengeance was exquisite, his stoic heart pulsing into life. Behind his mask, he smiled, satisfied.
Then they disappeared, heading to a Death Eater safehouse; a disused barn in the middle of nowhere. Rapidly, Rabastan released Frank and disapparated once more, moving to a higher vantage point to get a better look at him, trapped like a rat in a cage.
