Bend Me, Break Me // The White Wyvern - 22nd of April, 1978

[Euphadora Parkinson]

Surely Rabastan had more important tasks to tend to, having recently purchased his own home with all that lovely gold his family surely kept in their bank vault, but then again the Lestranges had enough money that Rabby was likely not moving in on his own. When Dora had moved from her parents' home into a space of her own, she had spent weeks levitating trunks and unpacking by herself. The place, a townhouse rented with help from her grandmother, nothing so lavish as a Lestrange's new home, was still not up to par as far Dora was concerned, but she had champagne tastes and a firewhiskey-sized pocket book. It was all the better that Rabastan use his fortune to delegate what needed to be done, as it meant more time for Dora to spend in his delicious company. She would have preferred something a little more posh than the White Wyvern, but it wouldn't do his standing any favors to be seen somewhere like that with someone like Dora. It did her social standing a whole world of good to be seen anywhere with the likes of Rabastan Lestrange, so she put up with the dusty windowsills and the creaking floorboards under foot. His entertaining company also helped to soften the blow that was the shite excuse for a cocktail she was about to order.

Entering the shading pub, Dora strolled to the bar, leaning forward enough as she spoke to the barkeep that her backside was sure to catch the eye of anyone who might be looking. Here to meet a man and yet she was not shy about craving the attention of anyone who might long for her, even for a moment. "Dirty martini," she answered in reply to the gruff bartender's grunt in her direction. He grunted again in response and Dora checked her hair in the mirror behind the bar, waiting for Mr Lestrange to arrive.

Tagged: Rabastan Lestrange
Outfit: little black classic

[Rabastan Lestrange]

Tonight was a respite well earned, or so Rabastan believed. Finally off of their family estate, although the process of making something his was new and altogether out of his wheelhouse, he was growing satisfied with his new home. He understood why Rodolphus and Bellatrix would prefer to stay, to continue claiming the estate as their own, and being with them instead of his parents - almost two full years gone since one had found his home permanently in the ground, and the other banished to family ties out of the country - had helped replace a fair amount of childhood memories he'd prefer to forget. But there was only so much he could do for himself there and, fastidious as he could be, rearranging his room for the umpteenth time had failed to cut it ages ago.

Besides - it was quiet, blessedly quiet, in the house that was his own.

Well...it won't be tonight.

The thought of breaking in the house with Euphadora's company had had him of a certain mind after they had arranged to meet. It would be good to have someone there with him, someone of his choosing, and better for it to be someone with her spirit than a random dull lay. She had certain feelings towards this meeting place, all the better for convincing her to relocate...

Rodolphus thought the younger pureblood was after their money, which Rabastan had to take offense to, hit to his pride that that was. The pleasure of his company, his skills - they weren't enough to keep a beautiful woman like her engaged? There were, admittedly, shining gifts given from time-to-time, and she'd never paid for a drink or a meal when they were together. And it was no secret that his surname had perhaps been the first thing about him to catch her attention, although it was hardly his fault that generations of "good breeding" had landed him with the unfortunate family nose. Rabastan felt that he came out ahead in their arrangement, however - Euphadora craved the sort of attention he gave her, and gave as good as she got. She wasn't as vapid or simple as those who couldn't bother to know her above a cursory level could understand, and whether it was their conversations or their time in bed, she had no trouble keeping up. 

He had to chuckle to himself, quietly, as he entered the Wyvern to see her already at the bar. Their eyes met in the mirror and he leisurely made his way to her, taking her in as he did. She was dressed for attention - his, certainly, but how many others had stared as she walked through Knockturn Alley like that?

He put in his order, whisky neat to get the night off right, and leaned on the bar beside her. "Already trying to get someone else's attention?" Rab asked, tsking in tease. "I'll have to get here before you next time, stop them from getting ideas." It was...convenient, how the stares from would-be competitors would stop once they realized who he was. His family's reputation was enough to secure them some privacy - eyes on them, of course, but unless a man was fool enough to risk losing standing, an eye, or his coins for looking at the woman in his company the wrong way.

[Euphadora Parkinson]

Running her painted nails through her mocha colored air, pulling it back behind her shoulder as a familiar face appeared behind her reflection. She smiled genuinely to herself before turning a coquettish grin on him as she turned to greet him. He always looked out of place in the Wyvern, the scent of money wafting off him not mixing properly with the smell of improperly cleaned floors and spilled ale, but it was more his confidence that Dora found misplaced here. He held his head much higher than most of the other patrons, or perhaps they shrunk in his presence? Whatever the case, watching Rabastan weave his way through the tables to meet her always gave her a slight thrill.

He teased her in place of a greeting and Dora smirked. "I've got to do something to pass the time," she retorted, "since someone hasn't bothered to learn to read a watch." Her eyes twinkled with humor. "You ought to hire a tutor to sort that out," Dora added, glancing toward the barkeep to gauge how much longer she'd be made to wait for a drink. Banter was easy with Rabastan, he understood her sense of humor and actually let her speak which was rare for the wizards in his social circles, as far as Dora was concerned. There was always a sense that she needed to be "on" with him, which was to be expected given the primary purpose of their relationship, but it rarely felt like work around Rabastan. Of course, he had not been privy to the hours of work that went into preparing for a meeting like this, but one could hardly blame the man for Dora's indecisiveness when standing in her closet. A martini appeared on the bar in front of her but Dora waited to raise the glass until her date had his.

Tagged: Rabastan Lestrange
Outfit: little black classic

[Rabastan Lestrange]

Rabastan was rather unashamedly enjoying this new life of his - this ability to walk into the Wyvern on his own and feel the energy shift, not needing to be in the wake of his brother or sister-in-law to have an impact. To have a beyond beautiful witch waiting for him at the bar, eyes bright and wanting as he came to meet her. And no one, no one, to hold him back.

It was embarrassing, yes, when his associates would alert him of Annette's poor life choices. Truly, Rabastan didn't know which was worse - that she was working for a Weasley or that she was sleeping with another one. But those choices were her own now, and while they did reflect poorly on him in some ways while the pureblood world adjusted to the split - his harshness towards mudbloods had perhaps propelled her into the arms of blood traitors instead of compelled her to see reason - at least the plans of their families had been thwarted with the death of his father. And while they had had their liberty from each other during their betrothal, the utter lack of ties these last few years had granted a freedom he hadn't known was missing in his life. The only expectations, the only duties, he still claimed were those he had chosen for himself. That did not mean his days were full of purpose, but the Portkey Office was a necessary ruse. Fulfillment was found in the real work, and who knew? What he learned in the office may very well be useful to their Lord one day...

But for now, Rabastan could lean against the bar - after a quick Scouring charm, would it kill the barkeep to ensure a stick-free bar? - and put such thoughts from his mind. For here in the moment, Euphadora was treating him to a tease, and their first round was on the way. A martini came to rest in front of her, his whisky swiftly rushed in beside it, and he raised his glass to her. "To me making up my tardiness in whatever means you see fit, Euphadora," he smirked back, as ever - proper gentleman that he was raised to be - letting the woman's full name drop from his lips before taking a sip. "Preferably at the new house. Something tells me it will be to your liking." The witch knew the importance of wealth, or at least maintaining the appearance of it, when it came to gaining and holding a seat at the table with their kind. It was unfortunate, really, that the Parkinsons were so low on gold that the daughter of the Sacred Twenty-Eight was left working odd jobs in the public eye. To her credit, Euphadora handled herself well, head high, wherever she was found. But the freedom to explore a place that was his, more thoughtful than sparse in decoration, at least that was how he saw it, would surely thrill her. Lestrange heirlooms were not privy to the eyes of the masses, after all.

[Euphadora Parkinson]

Drinks delivered, Dora raised her glass in his direction as Rabastan led them in an intimate little toast. She felt her adrenaline rush as her name poured from his lips, promising to make up for leaving her alone in this filthy little pub for any length of time. She smirked, not bothering to play coy about the fact that she was making a mental list of all the things she'd let him do to her when they found a bit more privacy. His list, just as any other's, was pretty much whatever he wanted so long as he said kind words to her. She'd take on a whole quidditch team at once if it meant she could feel loved for even just a moment. As warm as a partner's arms were in the throes of passion, they did nothing for her as she made her way home alone, sometimes sneaking out in the early morning hours to avoid being seen by lookers on or simply trudging through the dark of night mere minutes after adjusting her skirt. Love was fleeting, and sadly in Dora's experience the feeling never lasted as long as liked. But that was belligerent thinking for later, Rabastan was here now and he was never short on the fond emotions Dora craved.

Sipping to their toast, Dora hid a strained expression as best she could; a poor excuse for a martini but a cocktail nonetheless. Rab suggested an eventual change of scenery and Dora swallowed the piss flavored drink before smiling. "Full of dress shops and sushi? Your place sounds divine." In truth, she was eager to see Rabastan's new home, having built it up to the highest of expectations in her mind, but she wasn't going to simply fall over her feet to get him to take her there, she had a wee bit of class, regardless of what other witches said of her. "Afraid to be seen with me in public?" she teased. He'd never been so before and it wasn't likely he would start now.

Tagged: Rabastan Lestrange
Outfit: little black classic

[Rabastan Lestrange]

He was fond of these meetings of theirs - Euphadora provided a staggering distraction from his usual thoughts and concerns, a rare woman who could get him out of his mind with an entanglement of words or bodies - and he was glad to see her preen at his toast. Alone time together was not a given, certainly, but Rabastan had picked up a few ways to sway her attention towards him. Even now, using her given name lit a fire in her eyes. That had been a happy accident learned years ago; on principle, he detested shortened names due to the ones he had been gifted by family - Rabastan to Rabbit to Bunny, it irked him to no end - and so had never used a play on hers, which ended up working unexpectedly in his favor...

"Does it? Then prepare to be let down," Rabastan chuckled at the tease, for in no world would a home of his contain such things, "unless privacy and the best imported vodka I could find are enough to soothe your disappointment." No disruptions or disturbances, his elf and the falcons settled in for the night, just the pair of them and the full house to take advantage of and freshly-stocked bottles to empty - bliss.

Although her question was fair, he scoffed. "Hardly." This place was out of the way, hidden as it was in this uncivilized street, and the company kept here could not be further from fashionable. But it was beneficial to him in more ways than he could credit as information flowed as freely as the liquor, no matter how watered down either was. Admittedly, he did not want to risk taking the women he saw to places where his family would be, but that was a preference rather than a fear. Running into Rodolphus and Bellatrix - or the terrible pair of blonde gossips he had the misfortune to be tied to - would invite them into the life that was finally his to live privately. And give everyone the wrong impression. His life was his work for the Lord, and the time for a wife could come after they achieved what must be achieved. He did wonder when Euphadora would tire of him and their arrangement - nothing was forever - but with any luck, they had many more nights like this left to them. "Come." He pushed off of the bar and extended his hand, nodding towards a free table. "Let there be no mistaking that we are here together. To tarnish my name and buoy yours," he exaggerated with a wry grin.

[Euphadora Parkinson]

Dora put on a false pout as Rabastan dismissed her teasing assumptions on the contents of his home, but she was eagerly awaiting the privacy and proper drink he dangled in front of her. They had never been interrupted or bothered by his family before, but it was something Dora had been mindful of on her visits to Rabby’s former home. Disregarding the fact that at one point Rabastan had been engaged to another witch during their affair, she knew Rab was not keen on his family knowing too many details of his personal life. It was quite reasonable. “I suppose I can settle for not having to dodge your brother on my way out,” she said in a soft voice, keeping their conversation between them and away from any prying ears, though no one really stood out as nosey at that very moment. There were rumors enough about what Dora got up to with any bloke in her company, and while they certainly hadn’t shied away from being seen in public together, she also knew it would do her friend no favors to be overheard talking about any romantic dalliances they might have shared in the past or the impending future. She took another sip of her drink before adding, “and if you insist on feeding me fine spirits all night, I could hardly hold it against you.”

A true gentleman even when he kept her hidden in darkened corners away from judging eyes of high society, Rabastan extended his hand to her. “My parents would be so pleased,” she said with a chuckle and a roll of her eyes. Taking his hand, she followed to the nearby table and allowed his chivalrous nature to take over yet again as she sat and set her glass in front of her. “Tell me all about your marvelous new home. Are you just chuffed to be on your own now?”

Tagged: Rabastan Lestrange
Outfit: little black classic

[Rabastan Lestrange]

The girl stuck her full lower lip out in a pout, his eyes were drawn down to it, and Rabastan was distracted further from their current time and place as she dropped her voice. Euphadora was no stranger to getting attention, whether she had to vie for it or simply wait for someone to become entranced by her magnetism, and the sense of a shared secret - however ill-hidden a secret as it was - only enticed him more. He let out a low laugh at her jest, although having his brother and sister-in-law's noses out of his business was certainly a benefit of the move. It wasn't as if Rodolphus and Bellatrix hounded him on this or that - and when they did, he had earned it - but having a change of space to truly separate from the memories of their upbringing, it was serving him well. He had grown up as much as he could while still living in his childhood rooms, with his family just down the hall.

No longer having to worry about any parties walking in on illicit affairs, he could simply exist easier, besides. Despite everything else about her, Alecto was an objectively beautiful woman, so he knew some wouldn't understand his aversion to seeing her flaunt around scantily clad - but he had never been keen on seeing the woman his brother's wife saw fit to keep company with in their own home, or anyone else either of them brought in. As Lestranges, they had earned the right to have the run of the manor. Those nameless others, they didn't understand what it meant to live within those walls, and they didn't deserve the free access. But Rodolphus and Bellatrix had a marriage and partnership Rabastan didn't fully understand the boundaries and agreements of, and Bellatrix had been like a sister to him his whole life, and they worked together day in and day out, and he knew better than to question those who had taken care of him at personal cost - it was best for them all to have a little separation.

"I do insist," he returned, matching her tone, and smirked as they went to a table hand-in-hand. The idea of a girl's parents being pleased by her being with him was laughable - who wouldn't want a cynical, particular, headstrong workaholic? before even touching on any mastery of the dark arts? - but Rab bit the laughter back. He wouldn't claim to know the elder Parkinsons well, not by any means, but he was sure that there was, sadly, a nugget of truth to what Euphadora said. He could provide a comfortable life for their daughter, would they care to dig any deeper, if given the opportunity? "Oh certainly, as long as they didn't look too closely." He got the chair for her and sat opposite, scanning the pub for familiar faces or unwanted eyes. No sign of Elara, but the night was young - the light of the moon had been particularly strong, was it full? He drank, content at their good vantage point, able to see most of the place, and gave a nod.

"You must remember the feeling," Rab said as he raised his glass her way. She'd gone and gotten herself a flat some months ago, and while there was much left to be desired, he'd admired her freedom in the time since. "There's nothing quite like waking up somewhere you can claim as your own. I didn't realize how large of a difference it would make, but it's - I daresay, it suits me." Rabastan allowed himself a moment's grin. "It's not as grand as the manor, of course. I'm still finding functions for some rooms - no shops," he teased, "but the training room is set, the office is nearly there, and there's a balcony I'm fashioning into an observatory." He didn't so much have a personal interest in tracking the stars and planets, but the space gave him an excuse to keep an eye on his property and neighboring ones, and - he hoped - it would be worth showing off. Indeed, he hoped the whole thing would be, and brushed away the concerning feeling that he wanted to show it off to Euphadora, particularly. "You have a good eye, you'll have to give me your honest opinion."

[Euphadora Parkinson]

These meetings of theirs had been going on so long, Dora could hardly remember how it all began. At one point in her younger, more naïve years she had actually, briefly, had the audacity to think something more traditional might evolve, though she was never daft enough to mention as much to her friends, let alone Rabastan himself. An engagement to that ghastly Greengrass girl had resolved her of any notion that the younger Lestrange might harbor any legitimate feelings for her above the belt, and the cruel taunts of haughty, wealthier pureblooded witches reminded her regularly that she was fishing in a pond that should not have been made available to her in the first place. Resolute with their arrangement, it had been some time since Dora considered even briefly entertaining any romantic feelings toward her paramour. She knew her place as well as he knew his, but the truths of their vastly different trajectories did not stop them from enjoying each others company regularly. She genuinely wanted to hear about how he was getting on with his new home, and was titillated at the prospect of getting a better look at his personal sense of style.

She nodded, eyebrows raised in agreement as Rab brought up her own escape from the family home a year prior. Hers, she had played up at the time and continued with the façade to this day, had been an opportunity for personal growth and exploration into the world of adulthood. Very few, however, knew that Dora's rush to find a new place to call home had been instigated not by herself and her own wish for freedom, but at her mother's request, the woman's insistence that their home was feeling too crowded now that Dora was home permanently from school. She still firmly believed that her father would welcome her back home with open arms, as only a loving father could, but Dora was hard pressed to test that particular theory, not ready to face the truth about her father's true feelings for her. The ruse was preferable, even in her own mind, to what others plainly saw as the truth, and she was in too deep in her delusions to notice whether anyone apart from herself was actually buying it.

"An observatory?" she repeated, intrigued. She had always enjoyed Astronomy lessons in school, the ability to lay on the top of the Astronomy tower in the cool night's air, gazing upon the heavens and letting her thoughts drift away in the vastness that was her place in the universe. The idea that Rabastan had enough space in his new home, not to mention gold, that he could just add on an observatory on a whim was both impressive and jealousy-inducing. "Yes, well, I'm a little wary of what sort of tastes you might have without the guiding hand of a woman, but I'm sure you've not done half bad on your own," she said with a smirk. She thought to his rooms at the Lestrange Manor and there was nothing there to indicate that he'd be unable to properly furnish a space of his own, but men were notorious for their minimalistic and juvenile style when left to their own devices. Rosier had his bedroom plastered with posters of quidditch players and half-naked witches in suggestive positions and Dora could only imagine, given his own home, it would be more of the same in the lounge, the dining room, and even the kitchen. Rabastan, on the other hand, she hoped would have better taste. "When I first got my place, I moved things around constantly. Not the furniture, mind you, it's not like there's much room for that, but trinkets and photographs and the lot. Took me a bit to find the right spot for everything. If I'm in a mood I find some items still aren't in the right place," she added with a laugh before drinking again.


Tagged: Rabastan Lestrange
Outfit: little black classic

[Rabastan Lestrange]

"Indeed," Rabastan confirmed, giving a few laughs at himself as he admitted some of his thought process to the witch. "I'm seeking to strike just the right level of refinement. It's a delicate balance, to not be too understated - or too pretentious." While he had long lost the love of the manor that bore his family name, his new home still had to feel fitting for a Lestrange. The old families had reputations to keep up, and he would not be found wanting, either by those whose opinions he valued or by the gossips they had the misfortune to be tied to, who would feel compelled to weigh in. He had carefully chosen the furnishings, thus far, on his own. A large factor for why many rooms were yet quite minimal, to be sure, but he felt compelled to continue in the same vein, if only to keep true to what he'd told his brother. Obstinately. That this was something he had to do himself.

As such, he enjoyed the pieces that he'd surrounded himself with in these last few weeks, and with any luck, or a few more drinks, tonight he would find out what Euphadora thought. There was one piece he hadn't chosen, something that was as close to an acknowledgement, an apology, as he felt he would receive from Rodolphus; after his first sleep at the house, the raven's skull that had long kept watch over a particular room in the manor appeared in his lounge, and he displayed it proudly on the wall. An heirloom with a particular protective magic, one that could not have come his way without his brother's intent, and the gesture had done much to smooth over their rift before he'd lost all hope of Rodolphus seeing sense. Or, at the very least, acknowledging that Rab truly had moved out. 

The acknowledgement had allowed him some space to breathe, and while he wasn't keen to speak about that night with his brother, lest they tear open wounds just barely scabbed over - they were on their way towards a new normal in their family, and he was quietly grateful for it while continuing to mull over the severity of Rodolphus's initial reaction. It was all in such stark contrast to what he knew of the experiences of others leaving their family homes, from Euphadora and Narcissa to Amycus and Alecto, the change had been encouraged. Painful in some was as well, he assumed, but leaving was expected....

He sipped at his drink as she spoke, giving a knowing smirk as she acknowledged the limits of her space and what was possible to move, better understanding now why select items of memorabilia seemed always to be in different spots when he visited. "And does it help?" Rab asked with a wry grin, drink in hand, as he went on to tease. Surely some of their encounters had been brought on by one kind of mood or another, after all. "I thought you sought out company, when in a mood." He got the feeling, reshaping one's space could help one settle down - but there were far more satisfying ways to get out pent-up energy, or refocus a restless mind, than redecorating. Taking a woman to bed, training his birds or hunting with companions, getting lost in the drink, target practice with his blades or letting himself run - ways he'd been taught to redirect, celebrate, or otherwise pass the time. But for a lady not taught to fight - he could imagine various frustrations building up rapidly, with nowhere to go, and had a little laugh to himself as Cissa's incessant and neverending overhauls of Malfoy Manor began making more sense.

[Euphadora Parkinson]

“As an expert on all things refined,” Dora managed through a laugh, “I would be happy to evaluate the level of sophistication your observatory adds to your new abode. I would loathe for you to be seen by your contemporaries as understated.” She reached across the table and rested her hand on his, grinning like an idiot at her own jokes. Certainly, Rabastan was looking for more valuable input into his home choices than hers, but even if this was nothing more than a ruse to get her into his bed she couldn’t fault him for having a go. “Of course, the most important thing to determine, when it comes to observatories as you’ll likely remember from…sixth year, was it? is whether one can be seen by passersby when engaging in more private activities.” There were many memorable moments in their mutual past, not all of them of a sexual nature, but having to hide behind a pillar on the astronomy tower with barely more than Rabastan’s arms to clothe her as they were nearly found in flagrante delicto by a Ravenclaw prefect was absolutely on her fond memories list. “I lost a perfectly lovely pair of knickers that evening,” she bemoaned softly. “I can’t prove it, but I still think it was that Ravenclaw who nicked them when I wasn’t looking. Bloody pervert.” She could hardly be blamed for losing track of her own clothing when the more pressing matters at the time were flirtatiously teasing Rabastan out of his trousers and then, suddenly, evading a severe and impending detention were they to be caught. Luckily, nothing more than rumors came of that evening, and Dora and Rab both managed to go their separate ways, mostly clothed and sporting a few new love bites here and there.

Whether it be his observatory, his office, or his training room – training for what exactly, she wouldn’t bother to ask - Dora was sure she would be impressed with his new home. She wasn’t the first in her friend group to move out on her own; Narcissa, being older, was married and living with Lucius years before Dora had even graduated Hogwarts. But there were still plenty in her circle who lived at home while Dora struck out on her own and she remembered the feeling well, especially the first several nights, thinking she had made a horrendous mistake. The sense of loneliness that accompanied her arrival each evening after work, or the panic in overhearing the muggle shop keep as she passed on the stairs telling his wife about the latest burglary on the street was something she had since grown accustomed to. Kingsley’s protection wards helped to soothe her concerns when she finally confessed her fears to the Auror after nearly a month of being on her own, but there were few charms that could curb the sense of isolation which was why Dora had taken up frequenting the pubs and clubs even more so than she had before. An elixir of nothing more than alcohol was perfectly suited to the job, and companionship found at the bar would do well to keep her too preoccupied to think on anything else until she fell asleep.

Rabastan’s teasing of her decorating habits made her grin, as most of this conversation already had. He was cheeky, despite being rather particular and often stubborn, and their time spent together was nearly always entertaining. She leaned in closer, a hand still resting on his as her thumb began to slowly caress the back of his hand as if to soothe him. “Well darling, you see whereas men generally only attend to a handful of moods; mainly anger and randiness as I’ve observed it, women tend to experience a wider breadth of emotions, and thus redecorating is a necessity, particularly if one’s preferred company is unavailable.” She raised her glass to her lips and smiled before finishing the last of the sad excuse for a cocktail. "But no, it doesn't really help as much as I feel it should in the moment."

[Rabastan Lestrange]

She joined him in laughter, and he grinned across the small table at her. There were very few indeed who he could jest with in earnest - while they, thankfully, saw each other less these days than when they'd been forced to room together, even he, Crabbe, and Macnair had chosen competition over allegiance, and they would have taken his laugh at himself into a much different direction - and it was a relief to let his careful guard down. He was gladder still that Euphadora returned to the observatory, having hoped that the detail would pique her interest, and his eyes flashed to hers at the memory, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he hand alighted on his. 

"You laughed - and see, you're already helping me think things through," he leaned in to tease back. That night...that night. As thrilling as their escapades during school usually were - with the ubiquitous threat of getting caught when the only way to secure privacy was through bribes, and even then, word got around faster than anything - their first trip to the Astronomy Tower for a shag was one for the books. He could still hear the footsteps on the stair jarring them back into their heads, the struggle to conceal her as well as he could without giving their position away, the difficulty to quiet as, when their eyes met, all he wanted was to press on, detention be damned... "And you can't blame him for taking the opportunity. Most exciting night of his young life, I'd bet, finally having "proof" to back up the lies he'd told his mates about the mysterious girl he was seeing. Better than the shock he would've had if he'd found us, anyway. Whatever wits he had would've shattered, seeing you like that." Euphadora's beauty was no secret, and he knew all too well how she'd driven the boys to distraction. The ones who knew they'd never have a shot, and those that did. "We'll have to take a thorough assessment, make sure there's nothing missing."

Her hand lingered on his, and as she lightly caressed him, Rab turned his hand over to hold lightly in his own. He listened in amusement as she gave her judgement of his sex - she was hardly incorrect in her assessment, most things could be boiled down to anger or randiness, in fairness - and, returned her smirk. "Should I be offended? You've found us so...lacking?" Euphadora continued, finishing her drink and exposing the lack of help that redecorating was providing these days, and he drew himself closer in curiosity. She was missing...something, and while he would not presume to have all the answers - in this moment, Violet or Cissa or Bella would be greater help than he - Rab knew he had enough to keep him busy that there was not much idle time to spend dwelling, puttering... He raised his free hand for the attention of a server to replace her drink. "Your brother, does he still paint? Is that something you'd want to learn?"

[Euphadora Parkinson]

The mental image of the pimply prefect holding her knickers aloft in the Ravenclaw tower to an audience of overeager teenage boys made Dora’s ears hot and her cheeks pink with embarrassment. “By the gods,” she muttered; half laughing, half cringing as she shook her head while Rabastan continued with a well-timed compliment. Dora merely grinned, knowing there was no use in arguing such a valid point. “Thorough, yes. I’ll clear my schedule,” she teased. There was no doubt that others would be “evaluating” his manor, or perhaps already had – who was she to think she’d be the first witch the handsome Lestrange would invite to his new home, and she was well aware her presence would be of more use on her back than in any constructive manner, but nonetheless she was excited to see where he now called home. Getting to see how the other half lived was such a thrill. Family estates were one thing, large estates often decorated in a manner her grandmother would have approved of, but something new, something untouched by generations of accumulated décor and parental oversight. How much of what she thought was his style was actually just Rabastan’s ancestors?

“Offense is just a milder version of anger, is it not? If you were offended, you’d only be proving my point. Then you would inevitably realize my genius and be incredibly turned on, thus again proving me correct.” Rabastan gestured for another drink and Dora slid her empty glass off to the side. If the cheap liquor wasn’t going to taste good it at least had the decency to be properly strong, and Dora assumed this was one of the highlights for Rabastan in insisting on their meeting here.

Talk turned to her brother and Dora was confused by the turn for only a moment until Rabastan asked after her interest in his hobby. “He does. He’s quite brilliant at it. You should see the card he sent me for my birthday a few weeks ago. It had a darling little watercolor on the front of my favorite corner of Slytherin common room.” Ender was a magnificent artist, but it was never something Dora found herself jealous of. She had her own method for letting out her creativity and she did so through the clothing she made for herself. “I don’t think there’d be much point in me learning to paint, with him to compare to. And where would I even fit an easel in my flat?” she asked with an earnest laugh.