Lads Night Out //29th June 1973

[Rodolphus Lestrange]

[Following: Utter Disappointment]

The evening's events had unfolded with a bit more dramatics than Rodolphus had initially been expecting but the resulting outcome was the most logical. Narcissa's seat at the table tonight was honorific at best. Never one to presume he knew the Dark Lord's private thoughts, Rodolphus assumed the youngest Black daughter was invited only to ease the mind of his wife, Bellatrix, in worrying that her disavowed sister had irreparably slighted the Black family name. As ancient and noble as the House of Black was, the Lestrange name had never had such a blemish, though Rodolphus knew better than to discuss such facts with Bellatrix unless his aim was to incite her, which, from time to time, was exactly his purpose. But tonight should never have been focused on the Blacks, their unfortunate recent history, nor on the petite blonde who had done little in the way of preserving their community. No, tonight was truthfully about the Lestrange family legacy and of Rabastan in particular. 

The youngest Lestrange, still in school for several more years before he would be free to fight their glorious fight on the frontlines along with Rodolphus and their ilk, had achieved something many had not at his age. He had stood as a man ought to have, endured the stinging pain of the enchantment that was now permanently affixed to his forearm, and pledged his loyalty to their commander, and he had earned his place among their legion. If the night was to dote on anyone this evening, it would acknowledge Rabastan Lestrange, and Rodolphus was ready to praise him.

"Scotch neat," he demanded of the bartender as he slammed a few gold coins onto the bartop, "and one for my brother, as well." His booming voice carried throughout the room, the celebration evident in his demeanor. The Leaky Cauldron would be busy enough that either of the lads would be able to find a proper bedmate for the evening, or in Rodolphus' case perhaps a few. But there was drinking to be had first, and perhaps even a little mayhem on the muggle streets of Charing Cross Road, and celebrating an accomplishment that required the sort of company found primarily in Knockturn Alley. The women were less appealing on the whole here, with some notable exceptions, perhaps the grime and creaking floorboards scared the more attractive witches away, but the summer air was warm and inviting, and there was crowd aplenty in the Wyvern tonight. With the first of many drinks lined up on the bar before them, Rodolphus took his glass in hand and raised it in his brother's direction. "To your many accomplishments, and those yet to come. I am so proud of you, brother."

[Rabastan Lestrange]

Rodolphus was already flying high on their family triumph, making himself known - as if all heads hadn't turned when they entered - at the bartop and bellowing that his brother was along for the night. Rabastan was on a high of his own, in his own way - he hadn't had much doubt on his success, but it was a different thing entirely to feel the Mark on his arm. To know that he was now among the trusted few, that he had been chosen by a leader so great, to be part of turning their wayward world around. The years of toil and study, of enduring, had built him to this moment, and it would all be worth it. Their father had expected him to earn his Mark, his reaction to the momentous night an underwhelming one, but Rodolphus? Rab didn't know what to do with such praise, and shifted uncomfortably at the bar under the weight of it. Mother would dote on him upon their return, which their father would proclaim him fully too grown for now, and so this - this was the celebration to be had, and he was grateful for his brother's effort. He raised a glass to match Rodolphus, and hid a grimace as he drank.

"Thank you, brother. Truly, I'm just glad I didn't embarrass any of us," he admitted, and in letting himself grin, Rab finally let loose the rib-shaking laugh he'd had to hold since finding Narcissa in the entry hall. And the way the others had greeted her? Simpering over her dress like she was nothing but a paper doll, most seemingly just as surprised to see her as she was to see them, adding insult to injury. He didn't need to put her down to raise himself up, but it was incredibly satisfying in a way he hadn't anticipated, to see the girl fail. She didn't belong in that sacred hall, no matter how soberly she dressed herself, and whether Cissy accepted that or not, it was now known. Bellatrix would be the only sister truly involved in their work, the only one who hadn't blemished their name, and she was already a Lestrange. He'd had to work so hard to keep from laughing as the Carrows and his brother goaded her - for she'd eaten it all up, having not one clue what awaited them...

She was Lucius's to deal with, now more than ever, and Rabastan thanked his lucky stars that Annette was nowhere to be found tonight. It would have added a layer of complexity he wouldn't have wanted to attempt navigating, not when so much was on the line for him. Their families had only just set them down, side-by-side, declaring that they were to one day wed - and while that was a fight he wasn't prepared to have, he knew it was only a yet. He had more pressing things to deal with than worming his way out of a betrothal that no one wanted, and once they returned to school? He had duties from the Lord to occupy him now, on top of his actual commitments, and the less that Greengrass knew of them, the better. "I wish you'd been there to see her face when I arrived, Rod - I know she's family, and I shouldn't - but she's not gotten something she wanted, and I have. I daresay, it's a first." 

[Rodolphus Lestrange]

Rabastan grimaced and Rodolphus laughed. He was still so young and yet to be honored as he was tonight, Rodolphus was proud to call him brother. There were so many challenges Rabastan would be forced to face alone; the difference in age between them being the biggest factor for this, but through all their years together, Rodolphus had felt a responsibility to the boy. Their mother coddled him and at best their father was distant. Someone had to look out for him, and it was long ago that Rodolphus took up the role. One day he and Bellatrix would fulfill their obligations and ensure another generation of pureblooded Lestrange walked among them, but until that time Rodolphus would direct his protective energies onto Rabastan. To guard him from what he could; be it their father or life in general, Rodolphus had long ago promised to always be there. And if no one else would celebrate this milestone properly, then it would be he who footed the bill for the evening and arranged for the fun when it was time to go their separate ways.

“Nonsense,” Rodolphus remarked with a chuckle. “The odds of embarrassment were squarely in Narcissa’s favor tonight.” His wife’s sister was attractive, but that was pretty much the only thing going for the vapid blonde. She would possibly make a good wife, though her choice of suitor was questionable, but her attentions were focused on superficial matters that Rodolphus found tedious as best, and the friends she surrounded herself with seemed much of the same. He kept his opinions on the Black siblings from his own wife, unless she initiated the conversation, smart enough not to incur the wrath of Bellatrix on a whim. Rabastan spoke of the blonde’s shock at finding she was not alone in her invitation tonight, and Rodolphus chuckled again between sips. “Well if it was even half of the gaping look on her face when conversation moved on after your mark was given, I would have loved to see it.” The Blacks were princesses, it was amazing Bellatrix was as well adjusted as she was. Andromeda had been given her way so often that she felt entitled to abandon her family and their entire way of life. Narcissa clearly wanted every day to be a party in her honor. His Bella was the only normal one among them and he praised Merlin that their parents had made such a smart choice for their union. “She’s surely throwing a strop about Malfoy’s place right now,” he laughed.

[Rabastan Lestrange]

Rabastan continued to sip and, after a moment's hesitation and the widening of his grin at his brother's laughter, dared to ask. "Did you know that she was invited?" Much of the inner workings of the dark ranks was still a mystery to the newly Marked recruit, and he didn’t presume to know many details anytime soon - or at all. His duty was not to ask questions, but to do what was asked of him, and to trust that the Dark Lord knew what was best for them all. He had no reason to doubt such things, having seen through Rodolphus and Bellatrix what trust in Him could help one accomplish, but that didn't mean he had no natural curiosity about how the gears worked. Did the Dark Lord receive input from those he trusted when it came to who to invite to such dinners? Rab didn’t know how else Cissy could have received an invitation, having done nothing to his knowledge to stand out. Had Bella or Lucius recommended her? It hardly seemed likely, especially with how on-edge Malfoy had seemed by having her there. But however it had happened, she'd done enough to ensure that she'd had her last dinner at headquarters - that, Rab was certain of.

His fingers drummed a repetitive rhythm against the bartop, the lad still unusually pleased with himself and not quite sure how to conduct himself with the energy thrumming through him, and gave a hearty nod at his brother’s assessment. "No doubt about that," Rab agreed, not envying Lucius - or Bella, for the matter - in the slightest. "Remember the fit she threw to get her first horse? The carnage," he laughed, the shrieks of the entitled tiny blonde of memory ringing clear in his ears, accidental magic and furious little hands making a wreck of porcelain animals and a once-mighty collection of hair ribbons. And that had been a loss of control they were still cleaning up when he and his brother arrived for a visit - who knew how little composure she retained behind closed doors these days? Rabastan was grateful for his own betrothed’s absence tonight, but turned a still-curious eye to Rodolphus. "I'm to keep all of this from Annette, correct? I saw no one from her family present at the table."

[Rodolphus Lestrange]

Rabastan asked after his awareness of the invitees and Rodolphus nodded as he swallowed down another sip. “Bella let me in on it,” he answered. “Both of our siblings invited tonight, it was supposed to be a big to-do.” He smirked to himself, still picturing the faces of the Black sisters as they fell closer and closer to the floor with disappointment. When all was said and done, Rodolphus had made it clear he would be celebrating his brother tonight and Bellatrix was free to do as she pleased with her time. Whether she spent it coddling her little sister or playing in the nude with her bedmate, Rodolphus did not bother to care. Leaning toward his brother, Rodolphus added, “it won’t be long before you’re in the loop on these sorts of matters. Once you’ve earned it.” He nodded supportively at his brother. “Your insight on your classmates will be quite valuable, I’d say.”

Memories of tiny Narcissa’s tantrums seemed to blur together in his mind, but Rodolphus chuckled along regardless. “If she f*cks half as good as she throws a wobbly, then we know why Lucy’s putting up with her.” Whether it was Narcissa’s desire for a horse or the toddler’s insistence that she was the eldest of her siblings because her birthday came first every year, Rodolphus had been present for far too many tantrums to keep them all straight. Having grown up with Bellatrix, he was privy to a side of the Black family not many others were. He and Rabastan were common guests at the Black manor, just as Bellatrix and her kin had once frequented the Lestrange mansion in their youth. Thankfully as the witches grew older, they found interests elsewhere, and by the time he was preparing for his venture to Hogwarts, he was forced to spend very little of his leisure time bothered with ponies and hair ribbons and the like.

Conversation seemed to grow more somber momentarily as Rabastan queried after his marital expectations. “There’s a reason for that,” Rod replied. He made no effort to hide his disapproval at his brother’s betrothed, voicing among their family that Rabastan could do better than what Annette would bring to a marriage, but outside of their home he kept a pleasant demeanor regarding their impending union. The Greengrasses were a pureblood family that could boast a position among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but they were what Rodolphus considered poor, and he was certain Annette and her parents cared more about Rabastan’s inheritance than anything else. He had told their father as much when the match was announced over family dinner and Rodolphus had suffered greatly at his father’s hand for such disrespect, but Rod still maintained that if he and Bellatrix fulfilled their obligations, there was no reason for Rabastan to not be permitted to find his own way in the world. “Tell only those you absolutely trust,” he cautioned, “for the time being, at least. Soon we won’t have need for hiding and you can shout it from the bloody rooftops if you’d like, but we have work to do before that time comes.”

[Rabastan Lestrange]

While he didn't feel he had anything to prove to Narcissa or the man she would one day marry, Rab knew that he had. He had proven that the Lestrange line was strong, that he and his brother were the future and the present of the Dark Lord's organization, and that there was no need to doubt any of them. Thanks to Bella's sisterly love, Cissy and Lucius would stay safe in their shadow - but through this public statement, everyone of importance knew the established pecking order. Had there been any doubt before.

He matched his brother's smirk, Rodolphus letting him in on the mystery, and could not have been more pleased that this was the direction their evening had collectively taken. Narcissa was too self-indulgent to match the demands of the work, and however much she and her family would have felt slighted by never receiving an invitation, this was the reality check that they had needed. As for his classmates... "They're all going to need some work," he forewarned fairly, "but there is potential, among them. And no short list of those we should keep an eye on, for other reasons." For as hidden as he and his new fellows had to keep their allegiances - however easy it could be for anyone to guess, he wouldn't be showing off his Mark anytime soon - those on the opposing side had no problem making grand, public declarations, which couldn't be overlooked no matter how pure their blood was. Unfortunately for all of them, Annette liked to make his life difficult through her own such short-sightedness.

He had to laugh in agreement, for surely an embarrassment like tonight wouldn't be worth Lucius's time if the witch couldn't satisfy him elsewhere, even if that was something he had difficulty imagining. He chanced bringing up Annette, and swallowed his drink to quickly assure - "It won't be a problem with her." It wasn't as though he and his betrothed had fireside heart-to-hearts where he would let her in on this development, or fooled around so she would see the Mark on his skin. This could be easier to keep from her, all told, than knowledge of the girls he had fun with - while he did attempt discretion for Annette's sake, it was more to avoid embarrassing her than hurting her. She'd have to have some genuine feeling for him in order for him to hurt her, and they both knew that they wouldn't even be speaking if not for their families. Just as well, Rab knew he would find a way out of the arrangement for them - and perhaps this could be done sooner rather than later. Being offered a seat at the table as he looked ahead to his fifth year was a great and unexpected honor even their father would have to admit to. If the Dark Lord valued him now, could he have earned the right to a favor?

Rabastan nodded to Rodolphus's sage advice, the words sinking into his bones as the liquor lightened them, and grinned as his brother went on. Yes - one day, they would be shouting, together, the world at their very feet. As he thought of those he was to spy on, to gauge their abilities, to help form a preliminary judgement on for the Dark Lord, Rabastan had to wonder who he would find to trust with the knowledge. The knowledge that this was no longer a political game that their fathers played, but one that he was already involved with - and, with careful words, could sway their own favor one way or the other. Whose allegiance was already aligned, and whose could be won? Who had talents, connections, of enough worth? It would be easy work to convince his roommates, Crabbe and Macnair in particular, but surely the Dark Lord expected that from him at the very minimum...

"I understand." He would be the last to say he was not pleased with his assignment thus far, but in looking ahead to this work - it had been to join his brother and Bellatrix as they fought for their family, not to appraise the character of his peers. He took a steadying drink, clear eyes darting to the other's as he asked, "Will I be able to do anything...more than name names, before I'm done at school?"

[Rodolphus Lestrange]

Inducted into their ranks for less than a few hours, and his brother had already begun to make note of potential recruits. Rodolphus smiled into his drink, nodding as Rabastan spoke. There were other families that served the Dark Lord but none had shown their commitment as the Lestranges had. Two generations, not a rare attribute among the truly pure who served, but not a given. Their father had groomed Rodolphus since the earliest days of their master’s rise to power and now Rabastan had been called to take arms with several years of schooling left before him. Bunny was the youngest of their legion and the third of their sacred family name. Could any other of pure bloodline claim that distinction?

Rabastan assured the older man that his betrothed would not pose a challenge to his newly required modesty and Rod chuckled. “If you’re thinking it’s as easily hidden behind a vanity charm as a love bite might be, think again, brother. Best you play with Greengrass with the lights off for a bit. Or blindfolded, if she’s into that…even if she’s not…” In his youth, Rodolphus had many an opportunity to disguise a fresh hickey so as to not be caught in the middle of some pretty birds fighting when it was discovered that he had not been as faithful as he may have led them to believe. He was even more practiced, with Bella’s help, in hiding less exotic marks after one of his father’s many and repeated episodes. It was possible to disguise the Dark Mark on his forearm, if need be, but it was powerful magic that was not easily obscured and Rodolphus found it easier to simply keep his suit jacket on in mixed company.

The boy’s eagerness was evident in his remarks and questions. More laughter came as he finished his drink, putting the empty glass on the counter. “Of course! Your first task is to get rid of that old codger running the school and anyone there that is loyal to him,” Rod remarked facetiously. There was no doubt that were Rabastan actually tasked with the murder of Albus Dumbledore, he wouldn’t try his damnedest to succeed, but it would take more than a single fifth year in one of the most well-protected buildings in Great Britain to achieve that goal. “Rest assured, little brother, that you will be honored with dangerous adventures yet to come, and if none are given to you before you come of age, then you shall just have to sneak along with me and learn from the best.” He may have been giving himself more credit than he was due, but not by much. “Enough talk of work and obligations,” Rodolphus demanded jovially, raising a hand and signaling to the barkeep for another round. “There will be plenty of time for that later. Tonight, we drink.” A slender witch passed by the window outside, smart enough to avoid the din of man inside the Wyvern tonight but failing to go unnoticed. Her movement caught his eye and Rodolphus assessed her figure as she disappeared into the dark alley, out of sight. “And imbibe in other hedonistic pleasures.”

[Rabastan Lestrange]

"I mean it, brother - it won't be a problem. With her," Rabastan clarified, admitted, with a chuckle of his own. No - the day that he and Annette voluntarily spent time together - to say nothing of time alone, or any kind of play his brother hinted at - would come after the sun swallowed their planet whole. Theirs was a business arrangement and, as long as he could keep his wits and play a long game, one that would never require such things of them. She was a pretty girl of good breeding, to be sure, and there was something to be said of getting caught up in the heat of an argument, the thinning line between hate and lust. But the resentment she plainly held for the arrangement, and the disdain - to put it mildly - with which she looked at his family...Annette would not be bought with pleasantries and trinkets, and that was all he could supply, and he would keep his distance when possible. He would never say it, but could privately be proud of being better than their father in at least that respect. They would suffer through the mutual embarrassment at having the other on their arm, until they no longer had to.

The girls who could be bought with pleasantries and trinkets, or who were otherwise were taking a liking to him after a season on the pitch...a stronger glamour, then? He'd have to get his brother's advice, and practice, without a drink in his hand. His roommates, hell, even his teammates - he was less concerned of them catching a glimpse of the Mark. It would do him well, garner interest, intrigue, even jealousy...

Lips loosened by the drink he kept sipping, Rabastan rolled his eyes to his brother's laugh and jest of a proclamation. If only. He hadn't necessarily believed that he'd be thrown into the deep end on his first night, but to only deliver names? Could he not - at the very least - test the others before giving his estimation of them to his superiors? Was his wand to be wasted until he was of age?

Rab remarked with a sigh, allowing himself a laugh at his own disappointment. He forced himself to empty his glass to follow his brother's lead, and in the sooty, smudged mirror behind the bar, he could twist their beaming images. Broaden his shoulders, lengthen his spine to grow level with Rodolphus. Leave the hair untouched, though - the aristocratic waves wouldn't suit him. Eyes that needed no alteration to match met the other's as Rodolphus continued with encouraging promises he had no doubt in, and an infectious energy that swept the younger Lestrange back up. Brows raised at the familiar look in his brother's eye as his attention drifted behind him, Rab turned his head to see the skirt he surely wanted to chase. Permissible by the longstanding agreement with the missus, of course. "Tonight, we drink," he repeated as the bartender replenished their glasses. "And by all means, don't let me stop you. Old friend of yours, is she?" Rabastan challenged in jest, smirking as he jerked his head towards the window.