RP: Cloak and Dagger

[pb_rodolphus]

Characters: Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Roger Davies, Master Hemming (NPC)
Location: London
Date: May 26th, 2000
Status: Private
Summary: Coercion is an art the Brothers Lestrange have spent decades refining.
Completion: Incomplete.

Comments

[pb_rabastan]

Rabastan straightened up as he passed through the door. While slouching helped hide his identity as much as the transfiguration could, it did no good for his back, and it cracked all the way down as he rolled his shoulders. He had no idea what he looked like at the moment; his grasp on human transfiguration that stayed put wasn't as good as his brother's and he had stuck with flash-transfiguration. Had anybody cared to pay attention, they would only have noticed that Rod's companion changed every few minutes -- that is to say, when he remembered to change. It was strange to realise you didn't know what you looked like any more. At least in Azkaban he knew his skull hadn't changed shape.

Now, if Rod would kindly hurry up, they could sort this. This cloak-and-dagger stuff only amused Rabastan when he was in the right mood and he wasn't at the moment.

[pb_rodolphus]

Rod slipped through, sliding along the side wall until he had a good view of the podium at the front of the room. The hall was rather crowded with wizards and witches undoing the transfiguration on their clothes to reveal the smart, elegant garb of academia. Servers shifted through the groups offering cute drinks and finger food the likes Rod hadn't seen since the last time he'd attemded one of their parent's parties. Peircing blue eyes scanned the crowd, settling, for no reason he could name, on a tall young man with the most ridiculously winning grin he'd ever seen.

How in blazes was that familiar?

Rod motioned to the young man with a slight nod.

"Why do I feel as though I know that look somewhere?"

[pb_rabastan]

Following Rodolphus' gaze, Rabastan took note of the lad's face before looking away again so he could think. He was familiar, yes, but from sheer process of elimination far too young to have been an acquaintance from before Azkaban. In fact, for both of them to recognise him, his apparent age ought to place him... "Hogwarts," he stated with a fair amount of certainty before adding as an afterthought, "I think." It was the only time they'd ever had cause to deal with someone of that age since the break-out. "But I'll be damned if I know who he is."

[pb_rodolphus]

"Of course Hogwarts." Rod replied irriatably. For being a former Obliviator Rod marveled at his brother's lack of obvious memory. The drinking probably had a lot to do with that. It was difficult to scrutinize the young man through the crowd but bloody hell Rod knew that expression.

One curled hand slapped into another in sudden recognition.

"Fucking Rookwood. He had that same bloody grin when we were in school." Several gears turned, but it was Bella, speaking only to Rodolphus who gave him the answer.

'It must be Georgie's half-blood spawn!'

The connection wasn't through the Carrows as Rod first thought, but if he remembered Georgianna properly...a small shudder gripped him under his too-heavy coat.

"Georgianna Rookwood's son. Has to be. I'd know that smile anywhere." Granted, it was far less blood thirsty than Rod was used to seeing it, but the resemblance was definitely there. Then, Rod had to repress a sudden burst of laughter. "This might be easier than I thought."

[pb_roger]

Roger drifted away from his Master for a moment, a bit bored with a tedious point of academia some old codger was trying to argue. The old man was wrong, but it was going to take ages for Master Hemming to even get a word in edgewise to tell him so.

He'd much rather get a drink and try to mingle with someone younger. And female.

He took an offered drink from the closest tray and surveyed the room. Maybe he'd even spot someone from Hogwarts.

[pb_rabastan]

As Rod laughed, Rabastan gave a snort of mild disgust. He'd had enough of halfbreeds, even if this one was entirely human. Halfblood, halfbreed, same difference. All of them needed to be killed. The thought of which tugged his lips into a fairly amused smirk. After all, what was really going to happen to the lad when he was of no use? Better still, there was always the idea of the consequences of refusing to comply.

"M'pretty sure there's a saying about counting eggs before they've hatched, mate." Not that this was going to go wrong in any way whatsoever as long as Bellatrix could keep her sodding mouth firmly shut. "And I hated Georgianna and I hate that smile." In fact, he'd be willing to go through a fair bit just to remove it. "But he can't mingle forever, this place is as boring as all hell."

[pb_rodolphus]

"And on that you seem to agree with our quarry." Rod said simply, beginning to move through the crowd as deftly as the ghost that haunted him. Bella and Georgianna had been close at one point, but she'd also gone (regrettably?) straight after a while. It was the end when she married a muggle.

"Oh, she was fun." Rod managed to tease dryly. "While she could stomach everything." To say nothing of Rookwood. They didn't work together often, that as more Bella's department near the end of the war...all of the mindless little missions the Dark Lord had them on... "And it's really the old man we need anyway, the boy is just collateral."

[pb_roger]

Roger made his way back to Master Hemming slowly, stopping to chat with a few people he recognized. When he finally made it back, Hemming rolled his eyes. "I was being a social butterfly," Roger said with a grin. Even if he was strict and a pain in the arse when it came to work, Hemming wasn't all bad socially.

"The point of these is not to bag a bird," was his dry response.

"Better than having to politely tell an old codger he doesn't know what he's talking about," Roger responded.

Hemming hrumpfed. "Touche. Are you done? I hate these things."

Roger laughed. "Lead on, old man. We can go back to the grind tomorrow and you can pretend you never had to play nice with other academics."