Roses for the Dead // 26th of June, 1976

[Rita Skeeter]

“Oh, you poor thing.” Rita patted Rodolphus’ arm sympathetically as she brushed past him at the door, skirting around the need for an invitation inside on the pretense of being friends with his wife. “You’re not wanting reporters here at a time like this, I am sure, but I absolutely could not allow a friend to be in pain alone. Come, sit. Tell me what happened. He was so young.” There was a false sense of empathy in her voice as she led the man of the house into his own lounge and set her oversized handbag on the floor near the coffee table. The bag twitched suspiciously, her Quick Quotes Quill itching to be given more room as it scribbled notes about whatever it could overhear through the still fastened clasp. Rita turned to the drink cart and summoned herself a cup of tea. “Something stronger for you, perhaps? Is your brother home?” she asked in nearly the same breath. She turned to face him with a steaming cuppa in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other.

Rodolphus had been rather mum on the situation thus far, but Rita was persistent and knew there was likely to be someone in this house willing to talk if she simply bided her time. She had already obtained all the information from St Mungo's and the coroner on the cause of death, and her informant in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had relayed that the death was being labeled as natural causes due to liver failure, Reginauld Lestrange's fondness for drink having been well-documented at the family's many extravagant soirees. Others might think it crass for Rita to prepare the son of a recently deceased alcoholic a drink similar to that which may have killed his father mere days ago, but Rita knew the man would be too button-lipped without a little assistance.

Setting the crystal glass on the coffee table where Rodolphus would be forced to sit closer to her handbag, she waved the man over and ignored the annoyed grunts that he made under his breath in her direction. “You must be simply beside yourself,” she pressed, raising her eyebrows in an invitation to share his thoughts with her. She set her own cup and saucer on the table and patted the sofa cushion until the newly established head of the Lestrange family acquiesced. “I noticed your mother was not in attendance yesterday at the funeral. Too difficult for her, was it?” Rita took a mental note of some of the more traditional décor items that no longer seemed to be on display, wondering if Mrs Lestrange had not simply skipped out on the funeral but left the family altogether.

[Rodolphus Lestrange]

The doorbell rang as Rodolphus crossed from the west wing toward the east, diverting his intended route from his brother’s rooms to the front door. The jovial spirit he had held just moments ago had dissipated as the familiar blonde pushed past him before he’d even had a moment to take her in. “Rita,” he said through his teeth in greeting as she shrank into the distance, heading for his lounge. Rodolphus sighed and shut the door behind her, snapping his fingers to summon Timsey. “Fetch the missus,” he demanded of the elf, and then followed Rita into the lounge to ensure she wasn’t snooping in his absence.

He leaned against the frame of the archway, watching as Rita helped herself to his drink cart and so kindly remembered his own order. “He’s around,” he answered cryptically of his brother. Rodolphus had been on his way to see the lad when Rita struck the bell at his door. There wasn’t any need to keep tabs on the boy, but he had wanted to hear how things had gone with the Greengrass girl now that their parents weren’t around to enforce the betrothal, and they had agreed to chat while Bellatrix was busy with her guests.

Green eyes bore into him as she set down a glass for him and patted at the sofa. Rodolphus snarled to himself before stepping forward and moving around the sofa to join her. “Bella will be round shortly. Surely you’d be of more comfort to her. She’s such a fragile sort.” Rodolphus lifted the glass she’d prepared for him, eying her handbag suspiciously. Before he could drink, his gaze shifted focus as Rita spoke of his mother’s absence at the funeral. “Obviously,” he answered measuredly. “She is with family, in France. The resemblance between my brother and father was too much for her, I’m afraid.” He punctuated his rehearsed statement with a sip of his drink, turning slightly as he heard footsteps approaching. Reinforcements. f*cking finally.

[Rabastan Lestrange]

It was done.

Truly, forever, done.

Father gone. Mother abroad. Titles signed over. Greengrasses paid off. Done.

Rabastan didn't know what to do with himself. The other shoe had to drop. Surely, the other shoe would drop, and they'd have to be ready when it did. Father was gone, but what if an associate wanted to dispute the cause of death? Had they been clever enough, chosen the right poison to pass off his death as natural, slipped enough gold where it needed to go to keep the right mouths shut and get the right papers signed? The recent graduate was restless, more so than he'd been before the brisk meeting with Annette to formally do away with their arrangement once and for all. For that had been the final task to close this chapter.

Now what?

The future was theirs, as they'd wanted it. The whole, gaping future - it was theirs. This house, these halls, their lives - what they owed to the Dark Lord, they always would, but beyond that...

It was almost a relief, in a funny way, when he heard the echoes of the doorbell. Timsey appeared moments later, prattling on about Miss Rita and the master, and Rabastan allowed himself a laugh in the privacy of his suite. Of course Bellatrix's leech of a friend - not that she had many who weren't, unfortunately - and Prophet reporter had chosen to pay her sympathies directly. Not so soon for it to be seen as gauche, and yet - uncalled, unannounced, and did she know that Bella was preferring to process her grief with different company in more comfortable rooms than his brother's lounge? Or so he hoped. There were books inside that he'd like to borrow, now that he had time on his hands.

"Lucky me," Rab drawled as he entered, having caught the tail end of his brother's words, and his attention darted between the two. Rita with a cup of tea, Rodolphus with a glass of amber, side-by-side on the sofa. What a delightful pair of chums, the very picture of old classmates reuniting in hard times. His brother comically dwarfed the witch, and Rab allowed himself a smirk, while he knew they must keep up pretenses. "Spitting image of the old man, and now it's a face not even our mother can love." Their cover story had gone over well yesterday - Mother was hardly known for her rationality, after all, and anyone could have guessed that she would have, at best, caused a terrible scene at the funeral. Even if all didn't believe that she was in France - as she was - he doubted many had been surprised for her absence. The Lestrange family wouldn't bear such embarrassment. He helped himself to a drink, as long as he had to attend, and lounged against the wall opposite the mismatched pair. "How good of you to come by, Rita. Times like these show us our true friends, after all."

[Bellatrix Lestrange]

The reign of the elder Lestrange was over, and finally, Bellatrix was the lady of the house. Not that she put much care into that position, as she had no deserve to host tea parties or Christmas parties. But knowing this house was her and Roldophus’ now was a relief. It had been too long since she had been here suffering under them. It had meant hiding her and Roddy’s extra curricular activities, and now their playthings had free access to roam about the house when they were over. Which also meant that clothing was now optional around the house - assuming Bunny wasn’t at home. He had walked in on enough over the years.

Lounging in the bed with Alecto, Bella blew the cigarette smoke in the air. They;d had a lovely time together this day, and Bella was wondering if Rodolphus would be joining them when the door opened. Instead, it was a elf, requesting her presence as a visitor had arrived. Of course, the elf was no help in giving her a name, and Bella sighed as she climbed out of bed and dug around in her closet for her long black robe. She tied it tightly, looking back at Alecto in the bed. “What do you think, presentable enough for a visitor?” she asked with a laugh. She leaned down to kiss Alecto, grinning at her as she followed Timsey to the lounge.

The visitor in question turned out to be Rita Skeeter, and Bella was amused at Rabastan’s take on the situation as she walked into the room. “Rita, darling, it’s so wonderful to see you.” It was in fact, not wonderful, as Rita was here for a story and not to offer comfort, but Bella was used to playing this game with her friend. She helped herself to a drink, giving Rodolphus a look before she settled down on a chaise lounge, sipping on the amber liquid. “It’s been so bleak around here with these two, to lose not only their father, but their mother running off to France. It’s been quite a week.”

[Rita Skeeter]

Green eyes flashed to the foyer and adjoining corridors that were only partially visible to her as Rodolphus confirmed that the youngest of the Lestranges was indeed home. “Too young to be without a father,” she replied sorrowfully, but a quick glance toward her handbag suggested she felt differently. To capture their grief as a singular family unit would be much more dynamic than if she were to speak with them separately. Two young men, their lives thrown into disarray after the shocking loss of their beloved father. Yes, they needed to be together, at least initially, to draw the right sort of emotion from the reader.

It did not take nearly as much pressure as she had presumed to get Rodolphus to join her on the sofa, fatigued from the recent events she assumed. “Yes, of course. Bella must be in such a state,” she conceded as the hulking man tried to pawn her off on his beloved. But it was not the newly crowned lady of the house who appeared in the archway with a pathetic expression on his face.

Rita watched with interest as the brothers exchanged words, and when Rabastan addressed her directly she turned a seemingly kind eye on him. “As I was just about to tell your brother, my dear boy, if you should need anyone to talk to, I am of course here for you both. And Bella, as well.” The blonde raised her teacup to her lips, green eyes watching her hosts with interest.

As if on cue, Bellatrix flitted into the room. Wearing little more than a dressing gown and her hair mussed in such a manner as to indicate at the very least that she had not been expecting to be entertaining visitors. Rita took in the juxtaposition of Bella’s current state with Rodolphus’ refined dress. Perhaps the brunette was entertaining visitors after all. Rita smiled as the woman spoke. “Bella, darling,” she greeted sweetly. “I do wish it were on happier terms.”

So many details she had gathered already, and she’d not even been there five minutes. The situation was simply too delicious. Her handbag shivered with excitement. Rita looked between the men as she prompted, “for your mother to abandon you in such a time of need. Did you at least get a chance to say your goodbyes or did she abscond in the night?”

[Rodolphus Lestrange]

The Lestranges were hardly thespians, but Rodolphus played his part of dashing socialite well enough on any regular day that only the keenest of eyes would ever dare to guess at the sociopathic tendencies he indulged. But today’s award-winning performance would certainly be going to Rabastan. The melancholia he portrayed, mummy doesn’t love me anymore… and at such a young age. Bravo. For any of the numerous skills Rodolphus praised his brother for, if he could keep up this charade it would save them all from a nasty – albeit brief, thanks to the overwhelming contents of his bank vault – visit to Azkaban.

Rodolphus sighed and fixed a frown on his face as his eyes fell on his baby brother. “She loves you. She just needs time.” At least half of that was true. Lysandra had always shown a greater affection to her youngest son, pampering him in a manner that truly disturbed their father. Coddling was the more polite of the phrases their father used to describe their mother’s love for Rab, but of course any ounce of affection was too much for the wicked sod.

Lysandra did love her boys, but there was no length of time that would see her return to the UK. Rodolphus had seen to that personally. Her presence would ensure their continued expectations of what their father had set in motion – a non-negotiable term in their brotherly arrangement – and yet perhaps in their own show of affection for their mum, Lysandra had been spared death for an alternate arrangement. Under the Imperius Curse, the matriarch of the family visited Gringotts, ensuring she was seen alone and seemingly of her own accord, to withdraw enough gold to afford her a simple life in the French countryside. Following her public outing, one bewitchment was traded for another, and Lysandra Lestrange left the English manor where for more than 25 years she had borne witness to her sons’ abuse at the belligerent hand of her own husband, and traveled to the château of a distant cousin, having no memory of the life she left behind. It was the kindest alternative he and Rabastan could conceive of without drawing more suspicion than what was likely already on them.

Especially by those in the media who saw fit to interrupt their private period of mourning.

Bella’s presence added another dynamic to their growing conversation and Rodolphus met his wife’s eyes as she sat with a drink of her own. A bevvy of thoughts and emotions swirled in his head, none of which he would give away to the blonde sat beside him. They would have a talk later, he and Bellatrix, about her apparent lack of understanding how best to greet guests to their home in the aftermath of a murder that occurred only a few rooms away from where they are sat now. Trousers would be preferential, though at this point he’d settle for knickers underneath her robe, having noted the evident lack of any panty line as he admired her backside while she was fixing herself a drink. Rodolphus indulged in his own glass as Rita started prodding.

[Rabastan Lestrange]

"Thank you, brother," Rabastan sighed. Playing along with the charade in their own home was something he had not anticipated as much as he perhaps should have - he'd expected it at the funeral, of course, and was prepared to be off-putting in public in the coming weeks, to have an excuse for his dour resting face. But it was laughable, it really was, this entire moment - perhaps only as he wasn't quite feeling himself, but that was for him to reevaluate later, when he was settled into this new reality. Rodolphus's put-upon pained face as he comforted him in their mother's absence, as if they had not orchestrated the entire thing. Rita a trustworthy source for news Skeeter herself offering him a shoulder to cry on. He could barely mutter a thank you to her kindness, more likely to cuddle up with a Horntail than the witch.

Rab was envious of the ease with which Bellatrix flowed into the room, even if he had to drink to stop himself from laughing at the look on his brother's face. His sister-in-law was in next to nothing, and light as a feather, an expert in the game that Rita had started by showing up at their door. And maybe she had the right idea - now that he was freed of his betrothal, and their parents were nowhere to be found in protest, he could bring around a friendly bedfellow himself. He was kicking himself for not already having invited Euphadora around, but was unable to fully focus on the better diversions that would hopefully come soon - for a question of their mother was posed. Was this really how news was to be spread? Through this false offer of friendship, would he find his own words staring back at him from the Evening Prophet?

"You've been so strong for us, Bellatrix. It's a wonder you could drag yourself out of bed," he quipped, hiding a grin, "I thought you were finally allowing yourself a rest." Turning his laughing eyes from his sister-in-law to Rita, he sobered. "As my brother said, this was all too much for Mother. She has always had such a delicate constitution. The fresh air of the country will be restorative for her, we hope. It pained her greatly to say goodbye, but she could hardly take care of us when she was in such a state herself."

[Bellatrix Lestrange]

Whatever Rita was doing here certainly meant that she was prying for information, which was to be expected after the sudden natural death of the elder Lestrange. Hopefully, she was smart enough to not pry or place blame. They’d already killed one person this week, and Bella was sure the three of them wouldn’t mind making it two if things went wrong during this impromptu visit. Bella could feel her husband's eye on her as she got herself a drink, and she hid her smirk. She was sure he had an opinion on her wearing barely anything and parading about the house, but it was finally their house and not the house they shared with his parents. It was only proper that she be allowed to be in such a state when they had just lost a dear family member. She was grieving it was only right that she be allowed to be in whatever state she wanted after such a loss.

Because this? Rita showing up unannounced and uninvited, it was a game. She would play into their apparent grief, all while trying to get to the truth of the matter. And the truth would stay within the three in this room who had disposed of their father. And they were all playing the game well, as Bella had to choke back a laugh as Rabastan addressed her. “Oh Rabastan, don’t worry. I will have my rest later, I can’t rest knowing how much the two of you are grieving.” Setting her glass down on the table, she snapped for an elf to fetch them something to eat while they pretended like they cared. It was only proper for the woman of the house to make sure their guest was comfortable. “We will miss him terribly, he was such a strong leader of the family. It’s been heartbreaking knowing that he’s gone. I’ve been in such a state, but I’m being strong for my boys. It’s such a shame their mother left.”[‘/b]

[Rita Skeeter]

The drama. The intrigue. If even an ounce of it were true, oh what a buzz this would stir in her readers. The event alone, the untimely death of Reginauld Lestrange, would certainly garner new patrons but this melodramatic dynamic! Rita switched the position of her crossed ankles, moving the left from behind the right and in the process nudging her handbag ever so slightly closer to Rabastan who stood furthest from her. It was crucial her quill was able to take down everything that was said, from all parties. Rita could fill in the story telling elements later, provide a sense of visual in the text-based medium by adding her signature flair to ensnare the masses. A fragmented quote here, an out-of-context remark there. Rita was a journalist, and she was not about to libel the Lestranges in the Daily Prophet, but anything they actually said was fair game. Poetic musings regarding the depth of despair that could be felt through each tear-drenched syllable that fell from the youngest Lestrange’s lips as the shattered pieces of his entire world lay at his feet…. Well, that was just good story telling.

“Yes,” Rita mused sympathetically as Bellatrix waxed poetically about “her boys”. “You’ve always been such a nurturing soul, Bella. No doubt you’ll be stronger for your own children when the time comes.” She reached her free hand to Rodolphus’ knee in a show of pity for the temporarily orphaned business magnate. “Certainly, your mother’s leave won’t be too long but at least you’ve each other to make it through this time. I’m sure her parting words carry some comfort in her absence?” Rita prompted further.

[Rodolphus Lestrange]

This charade was growing tiresome already, but Merlin blessed him with Bellatrix and Rabastan to help carry the weight of this game they were all playing for Rita’s sake. In their own sodding home. Plans of conversations about his brother’s terminated betrothal and any resulting casualties (financial or otherwise) had been placed suddenly on hold. Rod felt assured that if there had been any pressing matters to be discussed among the family following the Greengrass contract falling through, that Rabastan would have figured out some way to communicate the need for privacy in a manner that Rita would be forced to oblige if out of nothing more than the need to appear genuinely sympathetic. As if Rodolphus did not notice her gaze shifting repeatedly to her quivering handbag, or the fact that she not so subtly inched in closer to his soft-spoken brother.

As his wife and his brother exchanged unrehearsed dialogue, Rodolphus savored his drink thoughtfully. Was there some way they could leverage this spontaneous “friendly” visit to their benefit beyond their plotted lies or were they simply following through with the game for the sake of it? Redirection of the spotlight being on their father’s death to some other aspect of the story could be enough to overshadow any niggling doubts to their lack of involvement and Rita did seem rather interested in Bunny’s coping.

Half-baked ploys were interrupted by Rita’s hand on his knee. “My rock,” he cooed at Bellatrix, rising from the sofa and separating himself from the interfering blonde to join his scantily dressed wife on the opposite side of the seating arrangement. Leaving an open space near the writer, Rita wasted no time in trying to fill it, patting the seat invitingly and looking to Rabastan to join her just as Rodolphus expected her to. Rod took Bella’s hand in his and kissed it. “Mi amore.”

The Lestranges played musical chairs as the house elf brought a platter of finger sandwiches but Rodolphus ignored the food in favor for his drink, swatting at the elf to refill his glass. “Parting words,” Rod nodded, finally acknowledging Rita’s latest probing question. “Mother is not one for flowery speeches,” knowing her place and not being the sort to speak out, especially in their father’s presence, “but we were afforded our touching goodbyes and of course I was tasked with looking after Rabastan while she is away.”

[Rabastan Lestrange]

Perhaps there was some amusement to be gained from their unexpected visitor. If nothing else, Rabastan was certain that the three of them would be telling this story over dinner for months - more, if Rita picked up on something and published it. Would she be so unwise, he had to wonder?  She was an ambitious woman, capable and intelligent. Surely, she knew which beasts to poke, and which to leave be. She hadn't feared retribution from the Black family - enough, at least - to keep from publishing that damning piece on Andromeda a few years ago. Perhaps her relatively more kind words about Narcissa's engagement were a belated ploy to get back into their good graces.

But the Blacks were not the Lestranges. 

If she was as smart as she'd like the public to believe, she would do herself a service and simply be a friend to the family. It would serve her better to do so, couldn't she see that? To have their trust was more important than whatever headline-grabbing words she tried to coax from them today?

He almost broke into a grin at the look on Bellatrix's face, glad at least that they would be laughing about this once the door closed behind the blonde. Rita seemed to eat up his sister-in-law's words, but then took an unexpected swing - children? With the absence of their parents, pressure would now only come from Bellatrix's to perpetuate their line. Not ever having heard an inkling of interest from those involved, however, he watched his brother and Bellatrix. Instead of addressing her assumption, Rodolphus rose to join his wife. Not wanting to be alone, evidently, Rita patted the cushion and looked his way with such expectancy. With a look to his brother - fine. - and in no hurry, Rabastan pushed off of the wall, refilled his drink, and joined Rita.

"Parting words, final words," he murmured, eyes a cold blue as they flicked to their guest. "The authors always make them so important in the biographies, don't they? Such creative liberties are taken when the subject can no longer make corrections." He took a drink, a long-suffering sigh of the grieving son. "Doorways aren't any better suited than deathbeds for waxing poetic, and you rarely learn anything new. I trust my brother, as our mother and father prepared him, to do what is best as head of this house. Affirming this as she left was all we could expect of her, in her state."

[Alecto Carrow]

Bellatrix left her laughing as she stretched on the coverlet, a lingering kiss to her lips before she disappeared in a rush of black silk. Greeting an unexpected guest in a scarce robe was now Bella's call, after all, as the official lady of the house. Alecto could hardly believe that the time had finally come for the Lestranges to oust the prior generation from not only their home but from this world, in all ways that mattered - and was slowly but surely getting over being left out of the plot itself. No one of consequence to Bella, Rodolphus, or Rabastan could believe that this was anything other than a highly coordinated affair, and her spirits could be soothed by what this all meant for her. The family, of course, was relieved to no longer have that terrible, awful, no-fun-at-all old man and woman controlling them, their fortunes, their futures. But as someone who had found favor with Bellatrix and Rodolphus? Not that Alecto had ever had doubt, but this last week affirmed she had chosen the right mentors and paramours.

As the seconds ticked by, Alecto rolled from the bed and helped herself to a robe, waiting impatiently for Bella to return - or Rodolphus, the bloke needed to relax and start enjoying this new life he had earned. There was this-and-that to finalize, everything needed his signature and a drop of his blood to affirm his taking ownership as the rightful heir... But that was tiresome, and he was free.

Was Rabastan back home from his errand, was that why Bella had been called away? She could all too easily imagine the boy sending an elf to fetch his sister-in-law, simply to avoid seeing them together. Could they not yet be friends? Laughing to herself, she rose again, sparing a glance for her image in the vanity mirror as she passed. Long hair mussed, cheeks flushed, robe concealing the bare minimum, strong legs bare and smooth - and what is it that Bunny's afraid to see?

Her feet padded on the cold stone as she wandered toward voices and the scurrying of elf feet, and the young woman didn't bother hiding her surprise as she entered Rodolphus's lounge. Bella had had to leave her for Rita? "The Rita Skeeter, twice in one week? You have yet another gift, my dear, I see you're doing a splendid job at keeping everyone's spirits up," Alecto quipped, helping herself to a newly deposited finger sandwich as her eyes moved round the room. "Back so soon, Rabby?"

[Bellatrix Lestrange]

This was simply too much fun, and Bella was enjoying the banter between the three of them. Rita was putting on a good show, but it was easy to see her nudging her bag closer to Bunny, and Bella had to wonder if Rita was a smart as she acted. They’d always been on good terms, and Bellatrix had wondered if it was because Rita never wanted to face her wrath. Would their past together be enough to keep her from slandering them in the Prophet, or would she be having a happy little accident, never to write again. Death wasn’t the worst thing that they could do to her, and Bella believed that Rita was at least smart enough to know that. Bella could see it now, the column in the paper talking about how sad and how strong they were all being in these trying times. It would be something to laugh at.

But Rita, oh she played the game well too. It was hard to keep her face straight as the other woman brought up children, and she shot a look to Rabastan as he struggled to keep it together. There would be no children in this house, that was something Bella was sure of. They had plenty of others to keep them company, there was no need for sticky and clingy children in the household. It’s a game, just play the game. There hadn’t been pressure on her to have children before and Bella did hope that Narcissa would get pregnant and solve the issue. If her sister had a kid, there would be far less pressure on her to have one. There was no world in which Bella thought of herself as a mother. “It’s such a shame our children won’t get to meet their grandfather, don’t you agree my love?” If she was going down this path, she was taking Rodolphus and Rabastan with her.

Her husband separated himself from Rita, coming to join her, and she flashed him a smile as he kissed her hand. Playing the role of the happy couple was an act they were good at, and Bella did like to think it was because they had such a good understanding of each other. Bella had never been one to obsess about love, like Narcissa, and Andromeda, but she felt a sense of belonging with Rodolphus. She sipped her drink as the boys discussed their mother’s final words. Surely Rita was just eating this up, however there was something new for her to gossip about as Alecto strolled into the room. Bella had never hidden her affairs, because anyone who was cocky enough to speak about them would find themself with a permanent room at St. Mungos. “It’s such gift to have friends in this time of grief, it’s one of the many blessings of our life,” Bella said with a raised eyebrow to Alecto and a smirk.

[Rita Skeeter]

The married couple fawned over each other, and Rita allowed a slight smile at the display. Whether she actually believed Bellatrix and Rodolphus to be the in love couple they portrayed to the rest of the world was for Rita to know and no one else to find out, but they would receive high marks for consistency if nothing else. There were several years of comradery between the women now, having met Bellatrix back when she went by the surname Black and acknowledged the existence of two sisters. Now she was a Lestrange, partnered with a family even more prestigious than her own, and taking on a sisterly role for Rodolphus’ kin in Andromeda’s absence. How things have changed, she thought as she watched her friend’s husband lap at her wrist like a lovestruck puppy dog. “A terrible shame,” Rita echoed softly as Bellatrix took comfort in her husband’s gaze.

The blonde wondered silently if anyone in this room was being honest with her, even just the teensiest bit. She had heard all the terrible rumors about Reginauld Lestrange and his shifting demeanor when he had imbibed too many cups at a social event. Merlin only knew what he got up to behind closed doors. And despite their cohesive tale, the forlorn expressions of grief, and the thoughtful signals of comfort they offered one another, Rita had a sneaking suspicion that not a single one of them had shed a tear at the man’s passing. Lysandra included, wherever she truly was, if she was anywhere at all. Far be it for Rita Skeeter to suggest anything unseemly of her dear friend or of the Lestrange brothers, but she would have assumed their true feelings to be more innocuous than this display they performed for her now. Her readers would be thankful for the dramatics nonetheless.

Rabastan joined her on the sofa after only some gentle urging and a confirmation from his elder brother that did not slip passed Rita’s notice. An assortment of finger sandwiches arrived and Rita served a small assortment to Rabastan before taking a single treat on a plate for herself as she listened to the men share their experiences of being abandoned by their grieving mother. If any of it were true, Lysandra would be deemed a horridly selfish mum to leave her children after such a tragedy, though Rodolphus’ age would help to soften the impact. Rabastan, however, was still so young and only graduated from school a mere few weeks ago. He was still a babe in many a mother’s eye; Rita was sure of it. “Certainly no one could doubt that you are in good hands with your brother in charge. Ever the stalwart champion for this little trio, as I’ve observed myself.” Rita glanced at the elder brother, all dark hair and blue eyes and chiseled jawline. Rabastan was composed of much of the same features, but he took after his mother in regard to his slender chin and wide set brow, and he had his father’s nose which was unfortunate. They bore the same brooding expression on occasion, and the resemblance was never as notable as when the pair smirked at each other.

She opened her mouth to further praise (and prod) the brothers when a fourth apparent housemate appeared in the doorway and drew her attention. Alecto Carrow. Rita knew of the woman from their time at school. She and her brother never seemed to be far from the Lestranges in some regard, and the journalist couldn’t help but take note of the scant apparel the newcomer wore. Green eyes dashed briefly to Bellatrix, a knowing smirk and subtle shake of her head having been suppressed in favor of slightly raised eyebrows. Turning her attention to the younger blonde, Rita remarked, “that is what friends are for, is it not? No doubt your presence here boasts a similar goal.” In intention only, perhaps. Rita would have given the girl another jab if not for a seemingly unremarkable query sent in Rabastan’s direction.

Apologetic eyes focused on the youngest of their party. “Busy morning?” she asked, eyes wide with intrigue, knowing that if anything for their father’s arrangements needed doing it would of course be handled by Rodolphus, as his father’s heir. The details of such transactions would indeed be of interest to Rita and the Daily Prophet’s readers, but she could hardly imagine anything of the like falling on the shoulders of the family’s youngest son. What delicious escapades was the little prince getting up to so quickly after the dissolution of his home life as he had always known it? Was he working to free himself from this expansive mansion so quickly? Or perhaps he was following his sister-in-law’s example and taking up an affair unbeknownst to his betrothed? Was he with the Greengrass girl making tedious decisions about their upcoming nuptials? She needed to know more and would not be sated with dismissive replies.

[Rodolphus Lestrange]

An appearance by Rita Skeeter in their life had generally only ever meant that there was meddling about. Even seemingly innocent get togethers between her and his Bella in their younger years had always resulted in an exchange of rather interesting details – not always scandalous or even of anything political note, but enticing all the same. Rodolphus was not generally one for gossip but he kept an open ear for anything of consequence to their mission for the Dark Lord and in truth Rita had been helpful in that regard on a few, albeit minor, occasions. Her flippant remarks about a former Minister’s Aid carrying a letter signed by a certain Hogwarts Headmaster had been a tip that lead to the assault of several Order members; affording a pretty headline on the front page to the obnoxious reporter later that week. But as her interest here today was in consoling the family after their father’s untimely murder death, he was less keen to entertain her folly.

He met his brother’s eye as the lad reluctantly took his place next to the blonde. Better you than me, mate. Rabastan was, after all, less likely to kill Rita just to end this little game of hers and get on with their day.

Bellatrix mused about their future children and Roddy nodded solemnly, bringing her hand to his lips once more and stifling a snort of laughter. The couple were mostly in agreement that children underfoot was not something they cared to plan for their future but Bellatrix ultimately had little say in the matter, in the end. Should Rod decide he was ready to pass on his legacy, his wife would oblige him his fancies, as was her duty, but that was some time off – if ever. Children were a nuisance Rodolphus did not care for, and Bellatrix felt much the same way. “Father often talked of becoming a grandad,” he remarked with only a slight stretch of the truth. In actuality, it was the man’s threats that his sons not “spawn a brood of bastards” and shame the family by dirtying their lineage with unworthy blood. Rodolphus had once defiantly asked their father his preference for whether Rod should arrive on his whores’ front or back side, to best avoid sullying the family name. He had spent more than two days under Bellatrix’s care recovering from the lashings his father paid him for such insolence, but it was worth it for the silence on the matter that followed leading up to Rabastan’s first outing with a girl away from the safety of school.

Soft footsteps in the corridor drew his attention and Rod sucked on his teeth in anticipation of whatever new hell would be accompanying them now. If Bellatrix was traipsing around in hardly a strip of fabric, who knew what Alecto would find appropriate for the occasion. Bloody hell. Bella and Lecto painted quite the picture in their matching attire and tussled hair. Their appearance would have excited him had it not been for the other occupants in the room. Rodolphus set his jaw and glanced to his brother for silent comradery as Alecto and Rita exchanged words. Taking Bella’s glass roughly from her hand without a word, Rodolphus rose and moved to the bar cart where he filled their glasses with his back to the group and schooled his annoyed features before returning as talk turned to his brother’s recent adventures.