Rabbit: March 1970
Title: Rabbit
Chapter Number/Title: March 1970: Club (37/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 1654
Workshop?: Always. NOTE: This follows 1970: Spring I from Sirius (working title)
March 7, 1970
Club
Someone must find a cleaner way of doing this, thought Rabastan as he brushed errant soot from the back of his robes. He stepped out of the fire and saw Mr. Rosier stretched across a chaise longue, smoking a pipe. His father was shaking hands with Uncle Liam, who was saying, “Oh, Teddy - just smashing to see you!”
In the shadows of the room hovered the figures of Dolohov and Mulciber, leaning their heads into a semi-private conversation. Rabastan stepped in and took his side by his father. “Good evening, Mister Avery.”
“And a good evening to you, little Rabbit.” Liam grinned. Sometimes, Rabastan thought that Uncle Liam must be so cheerful to make up for Father and Mister Rosier, who were terribly serious. “Evan and Darren will be waiting for you upstairs.”
Rabastan nodded, though hesitated. The way Sirius had spoken the other day… perhaps they were joining. The thought had been a small glimmer of hope for the evening, despite Sirius showing no sign of knowing of any sleep-over. Mister Black could still come, though, and leave Sirius at home.
But then, the fire flared green again, wiry young Mister Nott stepped out, and Liam exclaimed, “Ah, the gang’s all here!” Rabastan sighed, and hoisted his over-night bag over his shoulder.
He knew the way upstairs well enough, and in little time he found himself at Darren’s door. Darren had perched himself on the top of a wardrobe, and Evan sat on the carpet below.
“Oh, good! You’re finally here.” Darren grinned, and jumped back to the floor.
“Hullo.” Rabastan dropped himself onto the ground next to Evan. It seemed like every one of these sleepovers was more awkward than the last, and this one ruled them all. Evan and Darren had become almost inseparable - and, frankly, so had Rabastan and Sirius. The difference, of course, was that Sirius was in London, and the other three were here in the Midlands.
“Welcome to the first official meeting of the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club, Darren Avery, Investigator-in-Chief, Presiding. Evan Rosier, Executive Strategist. Rabastan Lestrange, Historian-Scribe and Director of Membership.”
Rabastan looked to Evan for any sign of comprehension. His query was met with an indifferent shrug. "Darren, explain yourself."
"It's a club. For investigating."
Rabastan crossed his arms. "Yes, I got that. Investigating what? And can we have a different name? Dementors are creepy."
"Tcha, being creepy is what makes them cool, Rabbit."
"Runespoors are cool. What about runespoors?"
Darren's face answered with disgust. "Eurgh. Why can't a snake just be a snake? Anyway, we have protocol. You have to propose your measure and put it to vote."
Rabastan kicked himself. Of course Darren wouldn't want a magical creature for a mascot. Were Dementors creatures? Rabastan preferred not to dwell on the question. "Well, I propose a change in our name. We could be the Runespoor Investigators' Club. First of all, because it's like a snake, and we're Slytherin families. Second, they're very rare and dangerous, and dark creatures so they're still cool. Thirdly, they have three heads -- like us!"
"Investigator Avery votes no. Investigator Rosier?"
Evan cleared his throat. "No."
"Investigator Lestrange's proposal has been heard and rejected. We remain the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club."
"What about just the Blackest Night Investigatory Club?"
"No, Rabbit." Darren's voice was approaching a whine. "We have a name. And I already made cards, see?" He handed out little cards of parchment that had been wrapped in spell-o-tape. Rabastan looked at his. In painstaking hand, it read:
BLACKEST NIGHT DEMENTORS INVESTIGATORY CLUB
RABASTAN A. LESTRANGE
HISTORIAN-SCRIBE AND DIRECTOR OF MEMBERSHIP
"Fine," he said.
"Good, then," Darren continued. "First order of business: we all must take an oath! Repeat after me: I solemnly swear --"
"I solemnly swear --"
"-- to share all discoveries with other investigators --"
"-- to share all discoveries with other investigators --"
"-- and to never talk about the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club, or its findings --"
"-- and to never talk about the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club, or its findings --"
"-- to any non-member, even family or friends."
"-- to any non-member, even family or friends." Rabastan's stomach dropped.
"Curse my heart and hope to die--"
They all joined in now: "-- feed a dragon my left eye -- if I should break this oath and lie."
Darren seemed satisfied. "Second, then: knowns and unknowns." He began to pace. "Known: on a sort of regular basis, the three of us sleep over at my house while a meeting happens downstairs. Known: Torben Mulciber does not come. Inference: inconclusive. Unknown: whether there are other meetings that happen when we are not together.
"Known: whatever they do or talk about, it is done behind Silenced doors and at night. Inference: these are top-secret and very important. Unknown: what is their agenda?
"Known: these meetings always have the same people: our fathers, Dolohov, Nott, Mulciber, and an unknown final person. Inference--"
"He was a Prefect."
"What?" Darren stared at Rabastan. "How do you--?"
"I found a photograph. My father and Uncle Liam had a third friend, who was a Prefect. I've never heard a word of him. Mother said ... I forget. He went missing, i think. I don't remember his name, but I remember the photograph."
Darren and Evan looked at each other, processing the new information. "You just found this?" Evan questioned.
"No. Ages ago. But I remember the face. I spent a while trying to find it in other photographs. No luck."
"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Darren furrowed his brow. "I mean, my father's friend--"
"There wasn't a club with an oath earlier, was there?"
"Well, no."
"Well then. I'm telling you now." Rabastan pulled off his boots and tossed them toward the door.
“Okay, Inference: the unknown member--”
“Leader,” said Evan. “He’s the leader.”
“Agreed,” seconded Investigator Lestrange.
“Inference: the unknown member is probably the leader and may be the Prefect from this old photograph. Known: his identity is purposefully secret. Inference: he is very important. Does that conclude our knowns and unknowns at this time?”
Evan and Rabastan looked at each other, looked back to Darren, and nodded.
“So,” Darren continued. “What’s next?”
“I have a, er, membership question.” Rabastan could feel his heart beating quickly, which was silly, he thought. He was only talking to his friends -- but then, their answer could mean a lot. “Sirius--”
Darren interrupted with a dramatic sigh. “Of course. Rabbit, his father’s not even here.”
“I know that,” he snapped. “Sirius was cagey the other day but I’m fairly sure my father talked to his parents about … whatever this is.”
Evan leaned his chin on his fist. “Do you think they’ll be a part of it?”
“I don’t know,” said Rabastan quietly.
“Well,” Evan said, “then if they show up, Sirius can join our club.”
“But what if they’re helping but just not coming to these meetings? We don’t know how it works.”
“Hmm.” Darren began to pace again. “But we know they don’t come to the meetings. Remember, Torben’s not here. Our fathers chose for us to be together. So it stands to reason--”
“That’s because they know we’re friends!” protested Rabastan. “And Torben would hate being here with us, and we’d hate it too. That’s not the same at all!”
“He doesn’t come, Rabbit,” said Evan, coldly. “If he’s not here, he can’t be a member.”
“What if we invite him, though?” He tried to “play the situation to everyone’s advantage. Maybe, just maybe, it could convince them. It would throw our fathers off any idea that we know anything. Or--or-- at least let me talk to him about it. He’s one of us.”
“No.” Darren finished pacing and stood over his friends. “No talking about what happens to non-members.”
“It would be too dangerous,” noted Evan.
“Dangerous? I’d trust Sirius with my life. And if you think for a second that he wouldn’t throw his heart into the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club and our... investigation and secrecy, you’re both mad.”
Darren seemed like he might have been considering it -- after all, no one could doubt that Sirius was an all-or-nothing sort of fellow -- but Evan spoke first. “I think we’re both used to being called mad, Rabbit. Whatever this is, it’s no playing matter, and I don’t think it should leave the room.”
“You know him, Evan. You know what he’ll do if he finds out we’ve left him out.”
“Let him throw a fit. This is more important than the Black temper.”
“But he’s my best friend!” Rabastan gave up on Evan and looked pleadingly at his cousin. “You two are aces, and I’m honored to be the... Historian-Scribe and Director of Membership. But it’s rotten to tell me to keep secrets from my best friend, when he’s never told any of my secrets or my family’s, and he’s always trusted me. Come on.”
Darren wavered, but looked to Evan first, who shook his head. “I’m-- I’m sorry, Rabbit. Maybe they’ll start showing up, and then he can join. Until then, he doesn’t have much to investigate, does he? But this is our problem, and it stays here. You can’t tell him what we know. You swore.”
“Yeah. Curse my heart and hope to die,” Rabastan grumbled. He could see the fight was all but lost, and he was not one for rallying futile battles. But there was one more chance: “What’s Director of Membership even mean, then, if I don’t get to add new members?”
“Obvious!” Darren smiled. “You keep track of us, make sure we’re all following the rules, doing our jobs, investigating to the sky.”
“Hm. Yeah, fine.” It wasn’t.
Chapter Number/Title: March 1970: Club (37/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 1654
Workshop?: Always. NOTE: This follows 1970: Spring I from Sirius (working title)
March 7, 1970
Club
Someone must find a cleaner way of doing this, thought Rabastan as he brushed errant soot from the back of his robes. He stepped out of the fire and saw Mr. Rosier stretched across a chaise longue, smoking a pipe. His father was shaking hands with Uncle Liam, who was saying, “Oh, Teddy - just smashing to see you!”
In the shadows of the room hovered the figures of Dolohov and Mulciber, leaning their heads into a semi-private conversation. Rabastan stepped in and took his side by his father. “Good evening, Mister Avery.”
“And a good evening to you, little Rabbit.” Liam grinned. Sometimes, Rabastan thought that Uncle Liam must be so cheerful to make up for Father and Mister Rosier, who were terribly serious. “Evan and Darren will be waiting for you upstairs.”
Rabastan nodded, though hesitated. The way Sirius had spoken the other day… perhaps they were joining. The thought had been a small glimmer of hope for the evening, despite Sirius showing no sign of knowing of any sleep-over. Mister Black could still come, though, and leave Sirius at home.
But then, the fire flared green again, wiry young Mister Nott stepped out, and Liam exclaimed, “Ah, the gang’s all here!” Rabastan sighed, and hoisted his over-night bag over his shoulder.
He knew the way upstairs well enough, and in little time he found himself at Darren’s door. Darren had perched himself on the top of a wardrobe, and Evan sat on the carpet below.
“Oh, good! You’re finally here.” Darren grinned, and jumped back to the floor.
“Hullo.” Rabastan dropped himself onto the ground next to Evan. It seemed like every one of these sleepovers was more awkward than the last, and this one ruled them all. Evan and Darren had become almost inseparable - and, frankly, so had Rabastan and Sirius. The difference, of course, was that Sirius was in London, and the other three were here in the Midlands.
“Welcome to the first official meeting of the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club, Darren Avery, Investigator-in-Chief, Presiding. Evan Rosier, Executive Strategist. Rabastan Lestrange, Historian-Scribe and Director of Membership.”
Rabastan looked to Evan for any sign of comprehension. His query was met with an indifferent shrug. "Darren, explain yourself."
"It's a club. For investigating."
Rabastan crossed his arms. "Yes, I got that. Investigating what? And can we have a different name? Dementors are creepy."
"Tcha, being creepy is what makes them cool, Rabbit."
"Runespoors are cool. What about runespoors?"
Darren's face answered with disgust. "Eurgh. Why can't a snake just be a snake? Anyway, we have protocol. You have to propose your measure and put it to vote."
Rabastan kicked himself. Of course Darren wouldn't want a magical creature for a mascot. Were Dementors creatures? Rabastan preferred not to dwell on the question. "Well, I propose a change in our name. We could be the Runespoor Investigators' Club. First of all, because it's like a snake, and we're Slytherin families. Second, they're very rare and dangerous, and dark creatures so they're still cool. Thirdly, they have three heads -- like us!"
"Investigator Avery votes no. Investigator Rosier?"
Evan cleared his throat. "No."
"Investigator Lestrange's proposal has been heard and rejected. We remain the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club."
"What about just the Blackest Night Investigatory Club?"
"No, Rabbit." Darren's voice was approaching a whine. "We have a name. And I already made cards, see?" He handed out little cards of parchment that had been wrapped in spell-o-tape. Rabastan looked at his. In painstaking hand, it read:
BLACKEST NIGHT DEMENTORS INVESTIGATORY CLUB
RABASTAN A. LESTRANGE
HISTORIAN-SCRIBE AND DIRECTOR OF MEMBERSHIP
"Fine," he said.
"Good, then," Darren continued. "First order of business: we all must take an oath! Repeat after me: I solemnly swear --"
"I solemnly swear --"
"-- to share all discoveries with other investigators --"
"-- to share all discoveries with other investigators --"
"-- and to never talk about the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club, or its findings --"
"-- and to never talk about the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club, or its findings --"
"-- to any non-member, even family or friends."
"-- to any non-member, even family or friends." Rabastan's stomach dropped.
"Curse my heart and hope to die--"
They all joined in now: "-- feed a dragon my left eye -- if I should break this oath and lie."
Darren seemed satisfied. "Second, then: knowns and unknowns." He began to pace. "Known: on a sort of regular basis, the three of us sleep over at my house while a meeting happens downstairs. Known: Torben Mulciber does not come. Inference: inconclusive. Unknown: whether there are other meetings that happen when we are not together.
"Known: whatever they do or talk about, it is done behind Silenced doors and at night. Inference: these are top-secret and very important. Unknown: what is their agenda?
"Known: these meetings always have the same people: our fathers, Dolohov, Nott, Mulciber, and an unknown final person. Inference--"
"He was a Prefect."
"What?" Darren stared at Rabastan. "How do you--?"
"I found a photograph. My father and Uncle Liam had a third friend, who was a Prefect. I've never heard a word of him. Mother said ... I forget. He went missing, i think. I don't remember his name, but I remember the photograph."
Darren and Evan looked at each other, processing the new information. "You just found this?" Evan questioned.
"No. Ages ago. But I remember the face. I spent a while trying to find it in other photographs. No luck."
"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Darren furrowed his brow. "I mean, my father's friend--"
"There wasn't a club with an oath earlier, was there?"
"Well, no."
"Well then. I'm telling you now." Rabastan pulled off his boots and tossed them toward the door.
“Okay, Inference: the unknown member--”
“Leader,” said Evan. “He’s the leader.”
“Agreed,” seconded Investigator Lestrange.
“Inference: the unknown member is probably the leader and may be the Prefect from this old photograph. Known: his identity is purposefully secret. Inference: he is very important. Does that conclude our knowns and unknowns at this time?”
Evan and Rabastan looked at each other, looked back to Darren, and nodded.
“So,” Darren continued. “What’s next?”
“I have a, er, membership question.” Rabastan could feel his heart beating quickly, which was silly, he thought. He was only talking to his friends -- but then, their answer could mean a lot. “Sirius--”
Darren interrupted with a dramatic sigh. “Of course. Rabbit, his father’s not even here.”
“I know that,” he snapped. “Sirius was cagey the other day but I’m fairly sure my father talked to his parents about … whatever this is.”
Evan leaned his chin on his fist. “Do you think they’ll be a part of it?”
“I don’t know,” said Rabastan quietly.
“Well,” Evan said, “then if they show up, Sirius can join our club.”
“But what if they’re helping but just not coming to these meetings? We don’t know how it works.”
“Hmm.” Darren began to pace again. “But we know they don’t come to the meetings. Remember, Torben’s not here. Our fathers chose for us to be together. So it stands to reason--”
“That’s because they know we’re friends!” protested Rabastan. “And Torben would hate being here with us, and we’d hate it too. That’s not the same at all!”
“He doesn’t come, Rabbit,” said Evan, coldly. “If he’s not here, he can’t be a member.”
“What if we invite him, though?” He tried to “play the situation to everyone’s advantage. Maybe, just maybe, it could convince them. It would throw our fathers off any idea that we know anything. Or--or-- at least let me talk to him about it. He’s one of us.”
“No.” Darren finished pacing and stood over his friends. “No talking about what happens to non-members.”
“It would be too dangerous,” noted Evan.
“Dangerous? I’d trust Sirius with my life. And if you think for a second that he wouldn’t throw his heart into the Blackest Night Dementors Investigatory Club and our... investigation and secrecy, you’re both mad.”
Darren seemed like he might have been considering it -- after all, no one could doubt that Sirius was an all-or-nothing sort of fellow -- but Evan spoke first. “I think we’re both used to being called mad, Rabbit. Whatever this is, it’s no playing matter, and I don’t think it should leave the room.”
“You know him, Evan. You know what he’ll do if he finds out we’ve left him out.”
“Let him throw a fit. This is more important than the Black temper.”
“But he’s my best friend!” Rabastan gave up on Evan and looked pleadingly at his cousin. “You two are aces, and I’m honored to be the... Historian-Scribe and Director of Membership. But it’s rotten to tell me to keep secrets from my best friend, when he’s never told any of my secrets or my family’s, and he’s always trusted me. Come on.”
Darren wavered, but looked to Evan first, who shook his head. “I’m-- I’m sorry, Rabbit. Maybe they’ll start showing up, and then he can join. Until then, he doesn’t have much to investigate, does he? But this is our problem, and it stays here. You can’t tell him what we know. You swore.”
“Yeah. Curse my heart and hope to die,” Rabastan grumbled. He could see the fight was all but lost, and he was not one for rallying futile battles. But there was one more chance: “What’s Director of Membership even mean, then, if I don’t get to add new members?”
“Obvious!” Darren smiled. “You keep track of us, make sure we’re all following the rules, doing our jobs, investigating to the sky.”
“Hm. Yeah, fine.” It wasn’t.