Movin' on in

[theworsesister]

Place: Yaxley's Flat
Date: August 2nd
Time: 10:00 am

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[call_me_ibrahim]

Ibrahim was woken by the sparks. He had fallen asleep on the couch (collapsed from exhaustion, of course) on top of a pile of flattened, empty cardboard boxes. His possessions had been unpacked and distributed in their appropriate places around his flat after one frenzied night of organizing. Nothing stops procrastination like knowing one is going to have to bunk with a loony for-- well, hopefully not indefinitely. One eye open, he regarded a clock on the wall with some horror. Ten already... Shit.

He looked out the window and, after spotting the sparks' source, let out a few choice oaths. Lestrange. Of course. They were in Arabic, but their tone immediately translated; something along the lines of 'Oh, God, why me?'

After a quick change of clothes and a scamper down the building's stairs, Ibrahim found himself before Lestrange. He looked up briefly at the pile of luggage and sighed. "Decided to pack lightly, have we?" He didn't normally revert to sarcasm, but still missing those essential starts to a day (coffee and a cigarette, of course), he found he didn't care.

[theworsesister]

"A lady needs certain things," Bellatrix sniffed, placing her hands defiantly on her hips. Brought up amongst wealth and materialism in the extreme, the concept of "less is more" never entered her mind. To her mind, she had brought only the barest bones for survival.

"Are you going to help me, or shall we stand here all day in the street?"

[call_me_ibrahim]

He shut his eyes to, once again, keep from rolling them. "Right. Okay. Good luck fitting all of this in your room, but alright."

Help her... help her? For God's sake, was she too ladylike to flick her wand? If it had been him having to carry all her shite up the stairs, he just might have been able to see her reasoning (though he wouldn't have disliked the idea any less), but honestly! This was a woman he'd personally seen maim and murder half a dozen wizards at a time without breaking a sweat. Was peacetime supposed to make you feeble?

Nevertheless, he jabbed his wand in the direction of her bags with perhaps a touch more vehemency than he'd intended. The stack shrunk. Her suitcases were now the size of matchboxes. Ibrahim picked them up carefully until he had the whole load in two hands. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it? Would it be too much effort to carry this yourself, or shall I?"

[theworsesister]

"I suppose I'll manage," she sighed, in a tone that clearly said the opposite. But she held out her hands to take them from him anyways. See? She said to herself, and to him. I can compromise. I can lower myself to your station if I must. She never would be carrying her own things if it were Roddy, or Rabastan, or devils help her, even Lucius. He may be a prick, but at least he had class, and he knew how to treat a lady (although she knew he never spoke of her as one). She was forcibly reminded that she was not with one of her cronies, the men she'd known--and controlled--since Hogwarts. This was new territory.

[call_me_ibrahim]

Ibrahim nodded to her and beckoned to follow him. As he ascended the stairs, he was suddenly extremely grateful that the residents of neighboring flats (much like himself) kept to themselves. Exactly what this would look like he couldn't imagine.

He proceeded into the flat and past the room in which he and Lestrange had spoken in earlier. Through one of the doors on the far wall was a short hallway. There was only one door on the left, and it was into this that Ibrahim walked. He'd been telling the truth yesterday; the room wasn't too small. In fact, it was nearly as big as the one in which Ibrahim slept, although that might not have been saying much. In the room there was a window and a bed and not much else.

He ran a hand over his hair. "Right. This'll be your room." He inclined his head to the end of the hallway. "Loo's down there. My room is across from this one. I'd be grateful if you didn't go in." He knew that saying that would be about as successful in stopping Lestrange from going where she wanted as a piece of gauze stopping a charging erumpent. Never hurt to try, though. He pointed back towards the room they'd came from. "There's another door in there that goes to the kitchen, if you want anything to eat."

[theworsesister]

It was certainly not the manor, but it better than the little shack she'd stayed in in Prague, or that cellar in Hamburg. She nodded as he spoke, peering in the directions she indicated, so as to familiarize herself with the layout. Not that she wouldn't be..."familiarizing" extensively once Yaxley was no longer around.

"Thank you, Ibrahim. You're most gracious, and I am grateful." She set down her things and spelled two of the suitcases back to normal size so she could begin to unpack the essentials. "Are you certain there's nothing I can do to repay you?" She continued quickly before he could respond. "It needn't be sexual in nature--although, know I am perfectly willing and have never had any complaints."

[call_me_ibrahim]

"I believe you. But I'll still decline." He ran a hand through his hair. "Actually, now that you mention it, it would help if you chipped in something to help with the rent. If you're not going to stay here all the time," which you won't, "it doesn't have to be half. But... just, something?"

He was uncomfortably aware that Lestrange would have plenty of time to explore on her own. Knowing that everything he had was here, and she'd probably be going through it at some point... Ibrahim felt suddenly very exposed. He was grateful that all the communication he'd had with his girlfriend had not been in English. If it had been otherwise, there would be no end to the humiliation.

Another glance at his watch. "Look, I've got to be in Notting Hill soon. I trust you won't need me around for much else, will you?"

[theworsesister]

"Mmm, I'm sure we can work something out," she nodded, unlatching her suitcases and not really listening. "What about a house elf? Would you like one? Cissy has too many, anways."

She started to pull a dress out of the suitcase, then let it rest, halfway out, so she could face him.

"No, no thank you. I should be fine." She wouldn't need his help unpacking, and it was so much more difficult to snoop when the person you were snooping about was present. Not that Bellatrix considered herself a snoop--she liked to think of it as investigative measures. She'd have to know how easily secured the area was...how soundproof. Roddy would be proud that she was being so practical.

[call_me_ibrahim]

The idea had a certain appeal. Certainly would have eased the work load around the house. The incongruity of having a house elf in so undeserving an abode would have been amusing. Then again, house elves made him uncomfortable. Having something so happy in subservience, so willing to bow and scrape and do what you want was embarrassing.

He shook his head. "I think that for now, I'll be able to do without one. I'll leave you to get unpacked." He inclined his head slightly, mind already working to figure out what it was he needed to secure; what locking spells needed re-casting. And damn it! He'd need one for his door.

[theworsesister]

Bellatrix shrugged at his decision against house elves. She hoped he realized that she hadn't the faintest idea how to work a single cooking spell--her mother had excused her from Home Magic: Witches and Homemakers, a popular class at Hogwarts in her day, on the grounds that it was dreadfully common--and without an elf (or husband) about, she would be depending on him for meals. Perhaps she could persuade one of the Malfoy elves to deliver her food.

"What time should I anticipate your return?"

[call_me_ibrahim]

"Just in a couple of hours. Going out for breakfast. Might go for a drink after, depending on who I'm with." He paused to consider. A number of his friends would insist on heading to a pub for one for the road. Which would turn into two, which would turn into half a dozen. "I don't know. I'll be back whenever I'm back." Ibrahim said with a shrug. "Why?"

Not that he didn't already know the answer. Wouldn't be good to have him walking in right as she was going through his things.

[theworsesister]

"I was only being polite." She smiled, and it wasn't pleasant. "Trust me, when I'm interrogating you, you'll know."

She turned back to her luggage, pulling the dress out the rest of the way and smoothing it against her body, checking for wrinkles. Satisfied, she murmured a quick spell, and hung the dress up in the air. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

"You don't mind if I redecorate in here a bit, do you? Don't worry, I have impeccable taste."

[call_me_ibrahim]

"Yes. I've seen you do it enough to recognize the signs, I think." His tone and expression were unreadable.

"Depends on what you mean when you say 'here'." He tried to imagine what Lestrange's idea of tasteful was. In his mind, it involved red wallpaper and an iron maiden; something of a cross between a bordello and a torture chamber. He grimaced. "As long as you keep your redecorating just to this room, than I don't care."

[theworsesister]

"That's right," she laughed lightly, unpacking another cloak and a pair of lace stockings. "I forget sometimes how much you must have seen--you never made yourself noticeable, did you?" Bellatrix's definition of "noticeable" was probably, like most things about her, deeply warped. But there was truth to her thoughts--she remembered Yaxley only vaguely from most Death Eater activities, though a man of his skill must have been put to far greater use than she could recall.

She smiled at the room, imagining what great things she could do with it. "Oh, don't worry, I'll restrain myself. I would never want to be any burden to you."

Reposted for typo

[call_me_ibrahim]

"Discreetness is a survival skill, as has been my experience." He had indeed seen quite a lot, making a point never to be noticed; usually just one of those in the faceless crowd of white masks. Raids and murder and inspiring terror were all very fine but definitely not his department, so to speak. Ibrahim's use lay in his ability to hold the ear of important people, indirectly being responsible for getting things moving in a direction that would more benefit the Dark Lord. All persuasion and flattery and charming people into doing what you wanted. Forget torture; there were much... cleaner ways of getting people to tell you things. He shook his head, dispelling something dark.

"I'm sure you wouldn't." Ibrahim surveyed the room, also imagining what 'great' things she could and would do with it.

Re: Reposted for typo

[theworsesister]

Bella shrugged. Discreet was dull. She would much rather flirt with danger by making a big splash than slip around. That was probably why the past few months had been so hard on her. Skulking about in the middle of the night, sticking to the shadows--it went against her nature. It was simpler, and tons more fun, to just come out with your wand at the ready.

"Before you leave...I know you don't plan to share that I'm staying here, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention you'd seen me at all."