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iambetadraconisBut for decidedly different reasons...
Again.
For the second time in as many days the security spells surrounding the old Lestrange home had been breached, and according to the analysis, by the same person.
They'd been working out the "who" for the past few hours, and were no closer to the answer than they were before and Rodolphus was becoming agitated. Ready to just take out his frustrations on some unfortunate soul who had the misfortune of looking like a good outlet.
"The Dark Lord will not be happy with you lot if you can't figure out who's been here and twice for that matter-"
"We have an answer now. It seems your brother's been here, both times."
Rodolphus deflated considerably for a moment, then felt his anger building again. Why would Rabastan break into his own house and twice for that matter? What was he up to? Especially since no one had seen him—save for when the Dark Lord called them to him—for the past two weeks?
"Why?" was all the question he could ask.
"We're not the ones to ask here," the man who'd finally identified the intruder said. "The spell identifies individuals, not intent."
"I'm well aware of that," Rodolphus snarled back, even though in truth he didn't, and wished it did.
From behind, the sound of a loud crack could be heard, and it was a measure of how used to the sound they all were that no one flinched at the sound.
"You lads won't believe who I just saw in Manchester yesterday," the newcomer breathed. "Rabastan Lestrange. Can you believe it? He's taken to showing his face again! And so close to those Muggles too!"
The younger Lestrange, prior to his arrival at Milliways, had taken to avoiding his peers for reasons known only to them, only making himself present when Voldemort summoned them to his side.
And had been acting rather oddly during that time too.
"Really," Rodolphus said as he turned around to face the man. A new one. Plott.
"Yes. And you won't believe me, but I swear he's changed too. A lot. He looks far different than he did the last time we saw him."
"In what way?"
"For starters, he looks a lot healthier than he did before. Got a few good meals in him you'd say. Frame's filled out and his clothes fit better. And that's not the end of it either."
"Go on," Rodolphus said, rage building in him again.
"He's not as pale as he was the last time we saw him, five days ago. And his hair's gotten longer too. It's almost at the length it was before he had it cut.
And, get this. He looks ... happy ... for some reason. Cheerful. And we all know he's never been cheerful in a long time."
Rodolphus was furious now. Rabastan had been avoiding the Death Eaters, and now he had taken to showing himself again, and not only that, but he seemed to have pulled off a major transformation in under a week, when no one but a Metamorphmagus could, and everyone knew Rabastan lacked that quality in him.
"He's ... happy?" Rodolphus asked, voice tight. "About what?"
"As if I'd know," Plott replied. "But if you ask me, something's odd about him. We should find him and question him about it."
"We don't have time for that."
"What?"
"You heard me Plott; we don't have time for that."
"But I don't understand..."
"Rabastan has been avoiding us for the last two weeks, and in five days he's gone from 'unhealthy and glum' to 'healthy and happy'. With no explanation why. That and he's taken to breaking into our family home without any apparent rhyme or reason."
"What do you mean?"
"The war is gaining in strength, Plott. The Dark Lord has no time for followers who are clearly not dedicated to his cause enough."
"I hardly think a change in hair length—"
"Silence Plott."
Plott went silent.
"The Dark Lord has no time for followers who are not committed to him. Not committed to his cause." He took in a deep breath that did little to calm his growing rage. "Rabastan it seems is not as dedicated as he once was to the cause."
"How do you know all that?"
"I thought I told you to be quiet Plott," Rodolphus bit out. "I don't know, but his behaviour over the last few months and within the last fortnight is suspicious enough to make me suspect he's turned traitor, or at the very least, lost faith in the cause. And if he has, he is to be eliminated. The Dark Lord has no need for those who are unfaithful and he will not suffer a traitor in his ranks."
Plott seemed to have cottoned on. "You'd have your own brother killed?"
"Silence Plott or the next word you breathe will be your last!" Rodolphus shouted. "We're in a war and in a war there is no room for those who will not serve their leaders or their leader's cause. If Rabastan has broken faith then he is to be eliminated."
Rodolphus went silent for a moment.
"Bring Mulciber in. I've got a little task for him..."
Again.
For the second time in as many days the security spells surrounding the old Lestrange home had been breached, and according to the analysis, by the same person.
They'd been working out the "who" for the past few hours, and were no closer to the answer than they were before and Rodolphus was becoming agitated. Ready to just take out his frustrations on some unfortunate soul who had the misfortune of looking like a good outlet.
"The Dark Lord will not be happy with you lot if you can't figure out who's been here and twice for that matter-"
"We have an answer now. It seems your brother's been here, both times."
Rodolphus deflated considerably for a moment, then felt his anger building again. Why would Rabastan break into his own house and twice for that matter? What was he up to? Especially since no one had seen him—save for when the Dark Lord called them to him—for the past two weeks?
"Why?" was all the question he could ask.
"We're not the ones to ask here," the man who'd finally identified the intruder said. "The spell identifies individuals, not intent."
"I'm well aware of that," Rodolphus snarled back, even though in truth he didn't, and wished it did.
From behind, the sound of a loud crack could be heard, and it was a measure of how used to the sound they all were that no one flinched at the sound.
"You lads won't believe who I just saw in Manchester yesterday," the newcomer breathed. "Rabastan Lestrange. Can you believe it? He's taken to showing his face again! And so close to those Muggles too!"
The younger Lestrange, prior to his arrival at Milliways, had taken to avoiding his peers for reasons known only to them, only making himself present when Voldemort summoned them to his side.
And had been acting rather oddly during that time too.
"Really," Rodolphus said as he turned around to face the man. A new one. Plott.
"Yes. And you won't believe me, but I swear he's changed too. A lot. He looks far different than he did the last time we saw him."
"In what way?"
"For starters, he looks a lot healthier than he did before. Got a few good meals in him you'd say. Frame's filled out and his clothes fit better. And that's not the end of it either."
"Go on," Rodolphus said, rage building in him again.
"He's not as pale as he was the last time we saw him, five days ago. And his hair's gotten longer too. It's almost at the length it was before he had it cut.
And, get this. He looks ... happy ... for some reason. Cheerful. And we all know he's never been cheerful in a long time."
Rodolphus was furious now. Rabastan had been avoiding the Death Eaters, and now he had taken to showing himself again, and not only that, but he seemed to have pulled off a major transformation in under a week, when no one but a Metamorphmagus could, and everyone knew Rabastan lacked that quality in him.
"He's ... happy?" Rodolphus asked, voice tight. "About what?"
"As if I'd know," Plott replied. "But if you ask me, something's odd about him. We should find him and question him about it."
"We don't have time for that."
"What?"
"You heard me Plott; we don't have time for that."
"But I don't understand..."
"Rabastan has been avoiding us for the last two weeks, and in five days he's gone from 'unhealthy and glum' to 'healthy and happy'. With no explanation why. That and he's taken to breaking into our family home without any apparent rhyme or reason."
"What do you mean?"
"The war is gaining in strength, Plott. The Dark Lord has no time for followers who are clearly not dedicated to his cause enough."
"I hardly think a change in hair length—"
"Silence Plott."
Plott went silent.
"The Dark Lord has no time for followers who are not committed to him. Not committed to his cause." He took in a deep breath that did little to calm his growing rage. "Rabastan it seems is not as dedicated as he once was to the cause."
"How do you know all that?"
"I thought I told you to be quiet Plott," Rodolphus bit out. "I don't know, but his behaviour over the last few months and within the last fortnight is suspicious enough to make me suspect he's turned traitor, or at the very least, lost faith in the cause. And if he has, he is to be eliminated. The Dark Lord has no need for those who are unfaithful and he will not suffer a traitor in his ranks."
Plott seemed to have cottoned on. "You'd have your own brother killed?"
"Silence Plott or the next word you breathe will be your last!" Rodolphus shouted. "We're in a war and in a war there is no room for those who will not serve their leaders or their leader's cause. If Rabastan has broken faith then he is to be eliminated."
Rodolphus went silent for a moment.
"Bring Mulciber in. I've got a little task for him..."
