#rabastan's owl

[ivyentwined]

Masquerading – AO3 | FFN

Two former Death Eaters are drawn to someone new at a masquerade. Fandom: HP Complete: yes Pairing: Antonin & Rabastan Rating: teen Length: 787 words Warnings: none Also a part of the Golden Like the Sun universe

[lulublack90]

Prompt 15 - Posion

@jegulus-microfic February 15 Word count 991

Previous part First part

“Kreacher!” He called out as he entered Grimmauld Place. The house elf appeared at his side with a crack and bent low in a bow. 

“Yes, Master?” 

“Where are my parents?” He asked, praying they weren’t in the house. 

“They at the country Manor, Master.” The elf answered. 

“Good,” Regulus nodded. “Keep them there as long as you can. And if they try to return, tell them I have said I need the house.”

“Yes, Master.” Kreacher bowed again before disapparating. 

Regulus stumbled to the kitchen. He needed a drink. The fire had parched him. He summoned a bottle of butterbeer, removed the cork and took a swig. He immediately spat it out, coating the table in sticky spray. It tasted like poison. Gingerly, he sniffed the contents of the bottle. Yep, that wasn’t butterbeer. He poured it down the sink and got water instead. 

He wouldn’t have long before he was summoned, so he tried to collect himself. He’d have liked to find Evan and Barty and check on them, but he wouldn’t have time to track them down. He assumed Evan had taken Barty to his house rather than back to Barty Sr. 

He dropped his glass when his left forearm suddenly shot through with burning pain. He was being summoned to Malfoy Manor. 

He cleared away the mess he’d made and left the house to apparate. 

Voldemort was in a rage when he arrived. He was storming around the formal dining room with the ginormous mahogany table. 

“We have a spy! Someone has tipped them off about our plan!” He spun when Regulus entered. “Come here, Master Black.” Regulus didn’t hesitate and strode straight to Voldemort’s side. Clawed hands shot up and dug into his face as Voldemort drove into his head for the second time that day. 

This time, he pulled Regulus’s mind apart slower, still painful, maybe more painful than before, but he lingered in each memory, looking for any signs that Regulus had told the Order something. Regulus had those memories well hidden, and because of his mother’s relentless drills when he was younger, he was always on guard for legimency attacks.

“My Lord,” Lucius Malfoy spoke, unexpectedly coming to Regulus’s defence. “It is doubtful that he could have told anyone when the attack was happening. We were with him when he found out we were going today, and it was you yourself that put the charms on Grimmauld Place, stopping owls and patronuses from leaving or entering the property.” Voldemort dropped Regulus’s face.

“Yessss, I suppose you do have a point.” He hissed. “I want whoever revealed our plans to the Order found, Lucius.” 

“Of course, my Lord.” Lucius bowed deeply, reminding Regulus of Kreacher. Lucius wrapped an arm around Regulus’s shoulder and steered him away towards Narcissa. 

Narcissa fussed over him, straightening his robes and smoothing his shirt collar before he batted her away. 

“Leave him be, Narcissa.” Lucius hissed through his teeth at his wife. Regulus ignored them, looking around the room as he silently counted how many death eaters returned and which important names were left. A lot were missing. 

Bellatrix came smashing through the door, throwing a fit, Rabastan following close behind. Evidently, Rodolphus had been captured. 

She stormed towards Voldemort. 

“My Lord! They have Rodolphus!” Voldemort stopped any further words from escaping Bella’s mouth by flicking his hand out and wrapping it around her throat. 

“I do not care about your husband. I want to know who betrayed me!” Bellatrix clawed at his hand as he squeezed tighter, his face twisting into a sneer. Nobody helped her lest they incur Voldemort’s wrath themselves. When she stopped struggling, he tossed her onto the floor, where she gasped, trying to force air into her bruised throat. 

Regulus felt the mirror in his pocket heat as James tried to contact him. He had insisted they add this charm to the mirror rather than have the caller’s voice call out. This would be a dead giveaway if, like now, whoever had the other mirror tried to get in contact. He had to ignore the caller, even though his fingers itched to open the small compact. 

When it was clear that no more death eaters would be coming, Voldemort began digging through all their brains, looking for the traitor. He found nothing, which only incensed him more. 

“Where are Rosier and Crouch? I don’t recall them being in the later part of the attack.” Regulus stepped forward, putting on his best aristocratic mask. 

“Forgive me, my Lord, but Bartemius was injured, and I told Evan to get him away from the battle.”

“And what gives you the authority to give those orders, young master Black?” Voldemort’s red eyes seemed to glow as he questioned Regulus.

“You yourself told us that Bartemius was useful to our cause, and I determined that you would prefer that his father not found out he was there.” Voldemort’s face split into an approximation of a smile. 

“And that is why we have missed you greatly since you have been away, dear Regulus.” He turned to the rest of his congregation. “You see, Regulus here sees the bigger picture. We may have lost this battle, but we shall still win this war.” Cheers erupted once Voldemort had finished his speech. “You may leave me. I require time to plan our next move.” The death eaters hurried from the room, whispering amongst themselves, trying to guess who the traitor could be. 

Regulus positioned himself amongst the exiting death eaters and left quickly. 

As soon as he was locked in his bedroom and had cast silencing charms, he pulled out the small silver mirror and whispered. 

“James?” James’s image immediately showed in the mirror, replacing his own. 

“Reg! Reg, are you alright? You didn’t answer!” He sounded panicked, his eyes overly bright. Regulus felt a tightening in his chest as the need to be in James’s arms took over. 

“Can we meet?”  

Next part

[rreeaahh]

We are both filthy now | R. A. B.

Third chapter of "One way ticket" | Ch. 1 / Ch. 2

READ THE AUTHOR NOTE, THANK YOU.

taglist> @my-beloved-fandoms

pair> regulus black x lestrange! reader (slytherin)

summary> a birthday party means, for most people, a way to celebrate your existence - for purebloods, however, is a good way to spent time together with their master. regulus and y/n are not fond of the event, but no matter the traumatic experience they both go trough, they are still enemies - and y/n should've know that.

word count> 4.5k (wtf)

warnings> some type of angst; slow burn af; family toxicity; female discrimination; description of getting the dark mark; regulus hitting reader's hand; not proofread!

a/n> hi m'loves<3 do not forget that the tag list is open, feel free to ask to be added! im sorry for the long wait, it was one tricky chapter to write and from now on im gonna stop hunting the perfection, ill just enjoy writing. im more than happy to see all the notification from you on this series, and im beyond grateful - ill love to read your reaction, it makes me incredibly happy and helps me write. any comment is more than welcomed<3 any reblog helps this series to get to more people and it only takes a minute to do so. thank u for reading, ily all<3

Dear Y/N,

I hope my letter finds you well – your cousin’s pathetic owl is one lazy bird, let me tell you, but Rodolphus seems to be quite fond of it, and won’t let me get a new one.

Anyway, I write to you in hope that you’ll make me the pleasure to attend my birthday next weekend – I already spoke with Rodolphus and your father and they assured me you’ll come, but I still think it’s better to write to you personally.

We’ll also have a little meeting, besides the party itself, so I’m sure you’ll find it rather educative than a silly simple ball – do not worry, I know you tend to get anxious when surrounded by people you don’t know that well, but my cousin Regulus is coming too! I’m sure you two young purebloods will have all the fun you need.

Don’t worry writing me back, just come along with Regulus back from Hogwarts. Your presence if the only gift I need.

                                                                                                      Lots of hugs,

                                                                                                                                    Bellatrix L.

Y/N puts the letter on her desk and grabs the other envelope – this one also has her family’s wax seal, the L and the raven on top of it sending her chills on her spine.

            Y/N,

Don’t even think of not attending Bellatrix’ party. You cannot let this family down. Your cousin, Rabastan, will wait for you on the Platform 9 ¾, since me and Rodolphus have a lot of work to do for the meeting. Saturday morning, no later than 10 A.M. The meeting will be at our house.

                                                                                        Don’t disappoint me.

                                                                                                                        Cyrus Lestrange

She scoffs and lets the paper fall from her fingers. She was only a child when her cousin, Rodolphus, married Bellatrix, Regulus’ cousin. They were the youngest at that party so all the adults expected them to spent time together. Truth is, however, that Regulus was shy and quiet and only stayed by her side, listening to all of her questions and never responding back. After the wedding, when her father seemed to be so pleased with little Regulus, with his manners and his obedient nature, Y/N decided that she hated Regulus Black. He was just a little prick, and she decided that she’ll be better than him – always.

As her roommates are deep asleep, Y/N stays at her desk and watches the two letters. She grabs again the one from her father and watches how the flame of the candle on her desk dances on it, the paper getting warmer and warmer, until it’s lit on fire. She hates to keep her father’s letters – it’s like she’d want to ever see them again.

With the burning paper still between her fingers, she gets out of her dorm and walk on the dark corridor of the Slytherin Girls’ Wing and goes to the Common Room, where the fire seems to be burning with green flames. The Black Lake is silent behind the large windows, only the water’s movement being heard. She throws the letter in the chimney and smiles at the sight of the fire eating up her father’s words. It’s like she’s watching him get eaten up by the flames.

“It’s late, Lestrange.”

Y/N jumps on her feet and gets a grip of her night robes. The light green material covers her body now that she’s tugging her fingers into it. From the dark green sofa, Regulus Black watches her with a bored expression. He was reading a book and in front of him, on the small black table, is a cup filled with tea, she could guess.

“Always staying in the shadows, like a rat,” Y/N mutters and walks to him, staying on the couch in front of him. While she sits down, she lets the robe fall from her shoulder, exposing the skin. She’s dressed in a dark purple pajama set, made out of silk, and the little string of her tank top falls with the robe. Regulus seems to notice the bare skin just exposed and he gets his eyes to look at her face fast, before she could sense his gaze. He feels… disgusted.

“Always speaking like you own the whole place,” he talks back and smirks, “when we both know it’s nothing like that.” His voice is flat – no matter his facial expressions, Regulus Black always had a boring voice when he’d talk to her.

Y/N just watches him for a second. He’s still in his Quidditch equipment, even if the Slytherin team came back from practice a few hours ago. His hair is messy, his eyes are circled by a dark color, in comparison with his light skin, and he looks tired.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” she lets the question escape her lips without even thinking.

“I could ask you the same thing, if I really cared,” he says and grabs his cup, drinking slowly from it.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Black,” Y/N laughs and puts her hands over her chest. Regulus notices that, too. “I’m sure you got an owl from Bellatrix.”

“Yes, Bella wrote me about her birthday. Unfortunately, if you’re telling me about it, it means she wrote to you, too,” he says in a quiet voice, letting out the air in his lungs.

“She’s part of my family, too, Black,” Y/N says and surprises herself – she never gave that much importance to the family relations. She only had herself, at the end of the day, no matter how much her father would scold her for being an absent member of the House of Lestrange.

Her father never really showed her love – he was meant to be her father, but he was just a kind of legal tutor who raised her and was responsible for her well-being, and her cousins looked down on her – she was just a silly girl, meant only to bear children and get more powerful connections for her family. Her uncle and her aunt were distant, and maybe that was better than giving her reasons to hate them, like the rest did.

“Please, do not remind me – I still can’t get over that.” Regulus seems annoyed, bored, tired of her presence. And, yet, he stands there, face to face with her, watching each other – studying each other with such attention like they’re looking for a weak point.

“Why are you such a hypocrite, Regulus?” Y/N suddenly asks. He just smiles in the corner of his mouth, grabs his cup of tea and gets up from the sofa.

She feels him getting closer to her and in a second his breathing is hitting her face. “Don’t act like I’m the only one putting an act on, Miss Little Perfect,” he says amused.

Her brows drop. The skin on her forehead wrinkles and her eyes watch his, wanting to see behind them – they are empty. “I know you look up to me, Regulus, but there’s no need to remind me,” now she’s the one to smirk, and he’s the one to frown.

“Please,” he scoffs, “I wouldn’t look up to a pathetic orphan even if you’d be hanging out from the ceiling,” he mutters and gets back up on his feet, looking down to her. Regulus is not the tallest boy Y/N knows, but that position gives him a more decent posture.

“That orphan is better than you,” she whispers. “That’s why your momma always prays the ground I walk on, right?” she laughs and she can sense his body getting alarmed by her words. “My dad just wanted an heir, someone to get his name far – but Walburga wants more than that, right? Now that Sirius, your disappointment of a brother, left, she only has you, but she doesn’t seem to be fulfilled,” the air leaves her lungs when Regulus drops the cup of tea and gets on top of her. The liquid spills on the stone floor.

His hands grab her bare shoulders, his leg is between her hips and he presses her body into the couch. Her back is arched into the plush material of the sofa and her eyes widen at the proximity. His jaw is tightened and his breathing is deep while Regulus watches her face with a spark into his eyes. “Do not, ever again in your filthy, pathetic, good for nothing life, talk about my family,” he mumbles and his grip only gets tighter – his nails digs into the skin of her shoulders like he wants to rip it off.

Y/N shoves him away and quickly gets up from the couch. Regulus is on the floor, right into the tea puddle he made, and he seems to be caught with his guard off. “Do not, ever again in your pathetic, sad, good for nothing life, call me an orphan – I have a family, Black. The blood in my veins is just as pure as yours, and my name is just as important as yours.”

And she leaves him there, into the Common Room, to take a bath into his own mess. She needs to go back to sleep – tomorrow she has to go back home and get ready for a birthday party.

The whole night she tried to forget Regulus’ hands onto her skin – her shoulders felt like burning, like they got marked by his touch. She tried not to think about the anger in her soul the whole ride back to London, when she was forced to be in the same wagon with Regulus – apparently, they both wanted to travel into the Prefects’ cabin. At least, they both kept their mouths shut and didn’t even looked at each other.

She didn’t have to have a very warm welcoming back home – Rabastan waited for her at the station and kept his eyes on the road the whole time. He only asked about other Slytherin kids in her year and some older ones – he wanted to know if she was behaving well enough towards them. Once she got to enter the big mansion she called ‘home’, there was chaos – all the house elves were running left and right with platters, candles, flowers in their hands and all of them stopped to look at her and welcome her mechanically. She just got up to her room and closed the door behind her. When she dropped on her bed, there was silence – there was no longer Regulus Black, or Cyrus Lestrange or any other dumb man who made her angry.

Once she woke up, she started to get ready for the gathering she was forced to attempt. She got dressed in a dark grey dress, elegant enough not to make her father a fool and yet, simple enough not to make Bellatrix feel left out – it was her birthday, after all.

“There you are,” says her father as she gets out of her bedroom. “I thought you’re still asleep.”

“I was getting ready.”

Cyrus looks her up and down in a judgmental way – he points to her neck. “Make sure the chain is visible, nothing else.”

Y/N forces a smile and a hand travels to the gold flower at her neck. “Yes, father.” He gives her his elbow and the two of them go down, where the elves decorated the whole floor with black and purple roses and white candles. There’s a long table near a wall, right at the fireplace, where are plates with food and glasses of expensive champagne.

“Here,” Cyrus whispers and gives Y/N a red box, and before she could question his action Bellatrix is right in front of her, laughing happily.

“Y/N! I’m so glad to see you, how are you?”

Bellatrix Lestrange, nee Black, is a very… bipolar witch. Once, she’s loud, smiley, in a good mood, and then she acts like the Devil himself. Y/N could never figure out why her cousin, Rodolphus, wanted to marry her – there were plenty of purebloods who wished to be married to him, but all his attention was on Bellatrix ever since they were in school together, despite the fact that she didn’t show any kind of interest in him during those years. Now, Rodolphus would do anything Bellatrix asks without blinking twice.

“Happy birthday, Bellatrix,” Y/N smiles and hugs her in a soft manner. While giving her the small box, she can see her cousin behind his wife, watching them carefully.

“I told you there was no need for gifts,” Bellatrix says and gives Rodolphus the box to take care of it. “I assume you just got down here,” she continues and grabs her hand, getting her away from her father – he doesn’t seem concerned about that. Cyrus always said that Bellatrix was a good wife and that Y/N had a lot to learn from her. What he did not know is that Y/N really wanted to learn a lot from Bellatrix – she wanted to know more about the power a witch could hold.

“Yes,” she said and looked around her own house. It was full of wizards, all of them being purebloods and talking to each other with a clear superiority in their voice. “I hope I’m not late to the party.”

Bellatrix scoffs. “The true party begins only when he gets here,” she smirks and Y/N freezes, knowing who she’s talking about. Tom Riddle was certainly not her favorite person, no matter how much he convinced her father that she will be a good daughter for him.

“Wonderful,” she manages to say and walks beside Bellatrix to greet her guests. She smiles and greets Bellatrix’ parents and gets a deep breath when her aunt and uncle come to wish her a happy birthday.

“Y/N, how are you, dear?” Walburga asks and kisses her both cheeks. Bellatrix seems busy talking to her uncle about the upcoming meeting, while Regulus sits behind them and only listen. “How is school?”

“It’s good, wonderful, even,” she smiles and Walburga laughs happily. “I’m working on some essays for Potions and Transfiguration, maybe they’ll be published after I finish school.”

“Did you hear, Regulus? Y/N plans to publish some essays after graduation,” she scolds her son and now his attention is on them. He only smiles to his mother and she goes on with the talking. Neither of them seems to be truly focused on what she’s saying – they look at each other like they’d snap each other’s neck if they could.

“Regulus, why don’t you invite Y/N to dance?” Bellatrix pops between them and her aunt claps her hands satisfied with her proposal. “You know how much joy it brings me to see you two together, Reggie,” she continues and puts her arm around his shoulders. He looks at his cousin with doubt in his gaze – she made them dance together at her wedding, too, like they were some monkeys to entertain the adults.

With a silent scoff, he forced a smile in his cousin’s direction and looked shortly to his mother, who only seemed to tell him the same thing with her eyes. “Shall we dance together, Y/N?” he asks and gives her his pale hand.

No matter how much she’d like to hit it, getting it away from her, she grabs it lightly and smiles. “With pleasure,” she mutters and the adults all clap their hands and smile in their direction as they go to the center of the room, where other people are dancing slowly.

Bellatrix flicks her wand and the room is now filled with a more vibrant music – they smile to each other and Y/N’s skin is burning under her dress where Regulus’ hands touch her. He cups her hand into his and the other one rests on her back, bringing her closer to his body. She has a hand on his shoulder and they both move synchronically to the rhythm.

“You disgust me,” he whispers into her ear, sending shivers all over her spine.

A big smile appears on her rosy lips and she looks behind him, where her father is beside Orion and Cygnus Black – they all had firewhiskey glasses in hand and talked with serious expressions on their faces.

“The feeling is mutual, my dear Regulus,” she mumbles and steps on his foot, careful to put the heel right into his toe.

“Then, you could’ve save us both and deny Bellatrix’ stupid wish.”

“On her birthday?” she scoffs. “Yeah, right, you tell her no, I like to be alive.”

Regulus lets a small chuckle out and before she could look at him, he spins her away for a second. When her body is back into his arms, her vision is blurry. “You better keep your mouth shut during the meeting,” he says in a cold tone.

“Why, Reggie?” she mocks the tone Bellatrix used. “Scared the Dark Lord will see more potential in me than in you?” She’s joking. On Merlin’s beard, she’s only trying to piss him off.

“Tonight is my night and you better not do anything to steal it from me,” he spits the words into her ear. Her skin becomes ice cold and all her blood runs faster into her veins because of the way he presses his fingers into her back. “I warn you, Y/N, stay in your place,” he mumbles and when the music changes, he lets go of her and smiles, before going away.

After some hours, the chaos in her house begins to cool down – the guests start leaving until there are only the usual people. They all sit at the long table, talking about some things that happened in the Muggleworld and how unacceptable they were – for someone who said they despised the muggles, they sure talked a lot about them. The conversation dies when the chair at the end of the table is occupied by the tall, dark haired wizard. They all rise from their sits and greet him with joy.

“It’s good to see you too, my dear friends,” Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort says and he shakes her father’s hand. Her lungs take the air in with great difficult, given the fact that there’s only a sit between the dark wizard and her. “I assume I need to apologize to Bellatrix,” he speaks and looks to his left, where the witch smiles from one ear to another. “I did not bring any gift with me, Bella,” he explains.

“You are my greatest gift, My Lord,” she says and from her left, Rodolphus and Rabastan just nod their heads. “Your presence gives us hope for a better future for us, the right titled wizards,” she continues and everyone agrees.

Bellatrix is one of the most loyal followers the Dark Lord has besides Cyrus Lestrange and the rest of his friends from when they were in Hogwarts. He saw the potential in her, just like he saw it in Y/N.

“Then tell me, which is the reason of this meeting?” Voldemort asks and looks at every face at the table.

It was not Y/N’s greatest pleasure to sit at that table from time to time – her father thought it was good for her future to assist those meetings, but they were incredibly boring. There were many parents of her housemates and from other kids from school, but not even a single person her age – that until Bellatrix brought Regulus to join her. Apparently, he was quite a fan of that man because of his cousin’s stories.

“We think it’s the time to welcome another wizard between us, as an official member, my Lord,” Lucius Malfoy speaks and his voice is just as annoying as ever.

“Oh, really?” Voldemort smiles. “And who might that be, Lucius?”

“My cousin, my Lord,” Bellatrix says and points to Regulus. “Regulus is one of the most dedicated wizards to your plans,” she continues and the air leaves Y/N’s lungs.

Looking over the table to Regulus, she could see Walburga smiling proudly while he just looks to Tom Riddle. “My Lord,” he says, “I swear I’ll serve you with every power I have.”

“Then come closer, young Regulus,” the dark wizard says and plays with his wand between his fingers. The boy gets up on his feet. From his right, Cyrus Lestrange clears his throat. “Yes, Cyrus?”

“My Lord,” he begins, “I was not aware that the Death Eaters were open to new members.”

“We always have free spots for the one who wish to serve our believes,” comes his explanation.

“In that case, I’m sure you’ll agree with me that Y/N is just as worthy of getting the mark as young Regulus is.”

Her heart stops beating. What did he just say?

“Right, Y/N?” his father touches her back, forcing her to look at him. His eyes are desperate. There is no way, in his opinion, that his only child will not be recognized as a worthy follower of Lord Voldemort.

All eyes are on her. She can feel them. However, she does not care about them – the only ones that matter are her father’s, and the one from across the table who looked down at her.

“Yes, My Lord,” she says that quietly that she barely hears her own voice. Her father pats her back and goes back to Voldemort. Y/N can’t gather the courage to look at Regulus.

“You said she was worthy from the first day you saw her, My Lord,” Cyrus says. “You said she will be a powerful witch, with a great future – how is she supposed to be powerful if not under your command?”

Voldemort smiles pleased. “You’re right, my old friend. Come, child, let me get a better look of you.” Her father looks at her and orders her to do as asked just with his eyes. Do not disappoint me, hesays with his burning gaze.

Mechanically, Y/N is on her feet and walks behind her father, in front of the sick looking wizard. His hands are cold, like he’s dead, when he touches her jaw. He looks at her like she’s some kind of animal that needs to be inspected.

“Are you willing to follow my orders, whenever you are needed, child?”

There’s a knot in her stomach. She wants to say no. She wants to leave that house and never come back. She’s scared.

“Yes,” is the only answer she can give in return.

“Very well,” Tom Riddle smirks satisfied and gestures to Regulus to come closer too. They are now next to each other. She can hear his breathing from her left and her knees are about to go numb. “Who wants to go first?”

Before she can say anything, Regulus already has his shirt lifted from his left arm and brings it closer to the man. Y/N can hear the soft scoff of his father.

“You need to swear to always serve me, boy,” Voldemort demands, the tip of his wand pressed into Regulus’ arm.

“I swear, My Lord. Whenever you’ll call for me, I’ll be there, ready to do everything I’m capable of for you,” Regulus speaks.

With a big grin on his face, Voldemort begins to press the wand deeper into the skin, until Regulus grabs his arm with his free hand. From under his skin is visible a dark smoke that lingers there, running like it’s chasing his blood. His nose is twitching from the possible pain, but besides that, his expression is blank. When the wand is lifted, the Dark Mark is on his white skin. There is silence, like the rest would wait for him to scream. His parents have a proud expression on their faces as Regulus watches the crowd with a blank, serious stare.

“Your turn, Y/N” Voldemort says after a few seconds and puts his hand out there to grab her arm. She lifts the sleeve of her dress and looks at her father – Cyrus Lestrange watches her with a demanding manner, like he’s forcing her to go closer to Voldemort. Which she does.

“I always knew you’d be a great witch, child,” he says with a proud tone in his voice. He wanted her to be his weapon. “Say you’ll serve me without question, Y/N. Let the others know that from today, you’ll become one of the most powerful followers of mine.”

“I do, My Lord,” is the only thing she says like she’s hypnotized – her body doesn’t listen to her commands, it acts on its own.

The wand is cold against her skin, but as soon as Voldemort presses it harder into her arm, a burning sensation hits her entire being – she needs to grab her arm in order not to get it away from the unspoken spell. The black smoke feels like venom and she wants to scream from the bottom of her soul. Instead, she just bites the flesh inside her mouth, the taste of blood blooming from her cheek. When the wand is lifted and the mark is done on her arm, too, there’s silence again – and when there’s no screaming, all the Death Eaters gets up and start to applause them, to congratulate them.

“That’s the best birthday ever!” Bellatrix laughs maniacal and jumps from a foot to another.

She still has her left arm in her right hand, looking at the black drawing on her skin. She’s too afraid to touch it, like it could burn her fingers. Two arms wrap around her in the noise and she’s hugged by her father. Cyrus Lestrange hugs his daughter, and a single tear rolls down on her cheek.

“Good job, Y/N,” he says in her ear. “Now you’ll show everyone what you’re made of.”

She gets slightly away from him and she can feel the vomit sensation grow in her stomach. While everyone clink glasses of champagne and laughs with joy, she excuses herself and leave the dining hall.

She could not see Regulus in the crowd. She needs to see him to be sure it was all real. And she finds him on the corridor near the bathroom, at a balcony with a view to her garden. His shoulders are moving up and down and his breathing is accelerated. If she didn’t know any better, she wouldn’t guess he was… crying. She stepped closer to him slowly and put her hand on his back.

“Regulus…” she said softly and tears started to form into her eyes, too. What have they done?

“You couldn’t contain yourself, right?” he screams and turns around to face her. “You got to be the center of the attention tonight, too,” his voice is full of hate, which she ignores when she sees his wet blood-shot eyes. Her hand tries to touch his shoulder, wishing to show him… empathy?

“Regulus…” she mumbles again and her voice is hurt. Maybe they are in this together; she just needs to explain everything.

“Don’t put your filthy hands on me!” he says and slaps her hand away.

Y/N doesn’t know what hurt more – the slap, the burning feeling in her arm or the fact that she thought that maybe, just maybe, Regulus was willing to show her kindness then, when it was clear that neither of them was feeling good with their actions.

She looks at his hand – the one he slapped hers with – and at his arm. His left arm.

“We are both filthy now,” she says with despair and turns around, leaving him alone.

[r-lestrcnge]

Starter for: Andromeda Tonks @tonksxandromeda An envelope is flown onto Andromeda's desk, deposited by an eagle owl, which sits and waits patiently for return instructions. Closer inspection reveals its origin, stated boldly in heraldic imagery; a crow bearing the Lestrange name and motto. Inside, a brief letter is written in ink, the sender having taken longer than usual to write the few simple sentences.

Andromeda,

I think it would be prudent to speak. I am at Lestrange Manor, still in relatively poor health. Would you visit? I will raise the wards for you only. Please come alone; should anyone join you unexpectedly, it would not end well for them.

Thank you for your work. I know I owe you my life.

Sincerely,

Rabastan

[alectocarrowx]

where: rosetta restaurant who: @r-lestrcnge

The last few days left Alecto feeling nauseous, her stomach in a constant frenzy state and she couldn't pin point what was causing it. Half a mind to cancel the lunch reservation to keep to his bed, she spotted a fresh batch of herbs used to make the mixture that was her saving grace, giving her a few spare minutes to ready before meeting Rabastan.

Many times they would meet to share a meal or a drink, a friendship, where they were rather fond of each other's company, evolved into a anew relationship, continuing to ripple through the waters. An ease thrived between them, an element that made them stronger, together. Walking through those doors, an arm placed between his, felt natural; this was how it should be.

She sat in the chair that was pulled out for her, turning her attention to Rabastan from across her. An owl arrived earlier this morning, a once over made, a rage soon filled her. Refreshments placed. Idle fingers plucked out the parchment from within her clutch, placing it in the centre of the table. "I'm afraid I have news we must speak of." Hazel hues flicker to the letter, encouraging him to fetch it, taking an opportunity to read it over.

[alaraselwyn]

who: @r-lestrcnge

An owl sent:

Dear Rabastan, I hope you are feeling better and have been enjoying the Madeleine's I have been sending over. I wanted to give you something sweet to recover with. Hope to see you come by the shop sometime soon. I have tried a new glaze. Alara Selwyn

[sethosflint]

where: three broomsticks who: @r-lestrcnge

Seth recieved the owl about meeting Rabastan for a drink. Now that he was back in the country, for a longer period of time, he was certain there would be some checking in and the wizard had nothing to hide. He showed up fifteen minutes prior, finding a table in the back for them. When the door opened and in walked the man he was meeting. He slid from his seat, standing, a hand reach to shake the others.

"It's nice to see you Rabastan."

[marauders-untouchedshadows]

Dear Student,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

It's September 1, 1977, and a new term is starting at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Marauders are going into their sixth year, and are all quite excited to see eachother again. The new term will bring more challenges and new secrets to the corridors of Hogwarts. Will they end the year without anyone figuring out what they're hiding or will the gossip spread fast?

Gryffindor

5th year -

Fabian Prewett OPEN

Gideon Prewett OPEN

6th year -

James Potter OPEN

Sirius Black OPEN

Remus Lupin OPEN

Peter Pettigrew OPEN

Molly Prewett OPEN

Lily Evans OPEN

Marlene McKinnon OPEN

Mary MacDonald OPEN

7th year -

Frank Longbottom OPEN

Alice Fortescue OPEN

Arthur Weasley OPEN

Hufflepuff

5th year -

Benjy Fenwick OPEN

6th year -

Amelia Bones OPEN

Edgar Bones OPEN

7th year -

Charity Burbage OPEN

Ravenclaw

5th year -

Pandora Rosier TAKEN

Kingsley Shacklebolt OPEN

Barty Crouch Jr. OPEN

6th year -

Rita Skeeter OPEN

Emmeline Vance OPEN

Aurora Sinistra OPEN

Sybill Trelawney OPEN

Emmeline Vance OPEN

7th year -

Caradoc Dearborn OPEN

Slytherin

5th year -

Regulus Black OPEN

Evan Rosier OPEN

Wilhelm Wilkes OPEN

Alecto Carrow OPEN

Narcissa Black OPEN

6th year -

Lucius Malfoy OPEN

Bruce Mulciber OPEN

Edmund Avery Jr. OPEN

Bellatrix Black OPEN

Severus Snape OPEN

7th year -

Rabastan Lestrange OPEN

Andromeda Black OPEN

Amycus Carrow OPEN

To appy for a character, send your name, age, and pronouns along with the character and at least two paragraphs. When submitting an oc, do the same, but add your characters' age and their backstory.

[notdelicatc]

who: @alectocarrowx where: manor gardens when: late morning

It had been a few days since the friends had seen each other. Despite the flow of moving as quick as ever things had felt as though the world had been in a rush to move forward. Perhaps it was due to the days spent hiding away in Venice that the brunette had found the flow to feel extra fast paced. Perhaps there had been other reasons. Emmeline chose not to question it. Instead she'd sent an owl to her friend, feeling slightly bad for vanishing without so much as a goodbye. Honestly, only Rabastan had known, really and in the end the reasons had been bigger than she could have ever anticipated.

When finally the house elf announced the arrival of Alecto, Emmeline had allowed the smallest of smiles to take over her features. There was no need to greet her friend with a look that was as sour and miserable as one might feel on the inside. Either way, no matter the change the witch still very much felt her friend to be important; enough so to put her own issues aside. "I hope you don't mind meeting me in the manor gardens. It seemed like too good a day to waste it inside." And she'd refused to set foot inside the manor ever since returning from her trip. "How've you been?" A few things had changed ever since the wedding. Her conversation with Rabastan still fresh on her mind she couldn't help but feel her smile widen. She was, truly, happy for her friend. - @alectocarrowx

[rodolphusnovis]

Where: Rabastan's Townhouse (sorry Rab) Who: @micahmulciber Notes: NSFW thread starting~

Rodolphus needed human touch. It was a craving he couldn't go without and he knew where to go for it for a quick night. Knowing the person meant he didn't have to threaten them into silence. He'd already done that once and that was enough. It was why he owled Micah in the first place.

He poured himself a drink before going to the entrance. It would be easy enough to get them inside without bothering anyone this way. Not that he cared if his brother knew of his activities in the bedroom. He had nothing to hide really. Sipping it he waited for Micah to show up.

[nrcissasblack]

Where: Rabastan's townhouse, London Who: Narcissa & Rabastan @r-lestrxnge

Narcissa couldn't get Andromeda out of her mind since her run in with her yesterday. Why had she sat down with Andromeda? She knew better that no good would come from indulging in Andromeda's attempts to bridge that gap. It had been a moment of weakness, she told herself, and then Bellatrix had come in and everything got worse. Bellatrix was unforgiving. What if she had managed to ruin that relationship too? Narcissa was tired of losing people. She was tired of feeling like this.

She didn't know what had brought her to Rabastan's home, but she just...hoped that she was making the right choice. She knew that he wasn't expecting her, she should have sent him a message but she had needed to get out of her home and Rabastan's townhouse had seemed like a good place to go. She hoped he would understand.

Standing in his sitting room, she waited while his elf went to get him. Glancing up when she heard him walk into the room, she offered him a small smile. "I should have owled ahead, I'm sorry for disrupting you. I hope you weren't terribly busy."

[ivyentwined]

Golden Like the Sun – AO3 | FFN

Antonin ropes Rabastan into helping him kidnap Hermione. Fandom: HP Complete: yes Pairing: none Rating: teen Length: 3,272 words Warnings: Kidnapping Also a part of the Golden Like the Sun universe

[marvol0]

OUTSIDER (7) || Rabastan Lestrange WTM

Series Synopsis: When the truth comes out about the future inside the walls of Hogwarts, on the first night back in 1977, what will happen for those involved with the chaos that ensued?

Secrets outed, Lies revealed and true intentions determined.

Pairing: Rabastan Lestrange x Fem!Regulus Black

Notes: Short chapter :)

Everybody had once again settled down in their seats, Regulus was back between her boyfriend and son, her best friends sat at her feet. Some people had brought snacks and drinks back to where they were sitting to enjoy while watching the movies.

The screen once again filled the hall with light.

6th January 1980.

A group of three men were shown, black eyebags beneath their eye sockets. The men were older versions of Rabastan, Evan and Barty, they were stood, heads bowed slightly, at the back of a group of people.

The same people from when Regulus was given her mission.

Regulus burrowed into her boyfriends side, hands carding through the hair of the two boys sat at her feet.

"We have been betrayed by one closest to us." The voice of the Dark Lord Voldemort started, he somehow looked even less human than one week before. The skin on his face hugged his cheek bones, lips now flushed with a periwinkle tone, eyes a grotesque red colour that reflected the blood he had spilled.

"Regulus Black not only failed her mission to assassinate the Potter and Longbottom families, no, she also informed them of said mission and as result the two blood traitorous families have gone into hiding." He informed the group, earning some silent sounds of outrage in response.

The three men looked down, the people around them thinking it was an act of shame for their association with the youngest Black, only Rab, Evan and Barty would know it was a show of pain, after three days of their beloved friend and partner in crime had been missing they knew she would not be returning.

The, hardly-human, male continued. "I have seen to her punishment myself, as of the thirty-first of December Regulus Black is dead." He said maliciously.

"Lier!"

"No you didn't!"

Were some of the reactions from the halls mass, the followers of said Dark Lord were in outrage that the man they followed, looked up to even, had blatantly lied to their faces.

The scene changed once again.

A beautiful manor was shown, white brick walls graying with age had vines of ivy covering them, pointy turrets made up of black slates sat proudly upon the mansion looking out on the surrounding gardens, which housed a dozen regal, roaming, platinum peacocks. The breathtaking house had fences of bushes, shaped to perfection, lining the wide walkway which led to a tall, polished gate.

Those from the Malloy family sat up straighter than before, proud of all the awed faces of those around them.

"You really do have a wonderful home Abraxas" Commented Delilah Selwyn to her old classmate.

"Thank you Delilah but I must give the praise to my wife, Lysistrata is the one who takes the most care of the grounds." Lord Malfoy replied, Lys smiling before pecking her husband on the cheek.

The scene followed a beautiful owl to one of the many black framed windows, it perched on the window ledge before tapping its beak lightly on the glass. A house elf unlocked it before taking the mail from the owls clawed foot, feeding it an owl treat.

"Pip is thanking you, Axl." Pip, the elf, said before the bird shook its feathers and took off once more, Pippa left with a pop landing in the sitting room in front of a three month pregnant Narcissa Malfoy.

Squeeling, Clarity Selwyn (soon to be Greengrass) turned to her best friend, squeezing her tightly, gushing over how beautiful she looked and how she 'must be the godmother of your son!'

Narcissa nodded hugging her back, happy to see her best friend so exited for her.

"Mistress Narcissa, Pip has the Daily Prophet  for you as well as some letters." The young elf handed them to the woman who was sat on one of the green leather couches, cup and saucer placed on the wooden end table.

"Thank you, Pip." She replied, the elf leaving the room with a quiet pop, the woman looked down at the days headline, brows furrowing and alarm swirling in her grey eyes.

The scene moved to show the newspaper.

[racfoam]

Snippet from nynn they grow up together and now post 1st Wizarding War after Voldemort has fallen and forced to flee scene. Based on this ask and my answer on the ask. This is the scene where Dolohov returns with baby-form Voldemort.

Warnings: Baby Voldemort

In July of 1983, they held an Inner Circle meeting. Usually, Voldemort held these meetings at the Malfoy Manor in the dining hall, with the extravagant and long, rectangular dining table at which he sat in the head chair. Harry held the meetings in an abandoned Muggle house in Winchester in a small town. She made the house Unplottable and from the inside, it was the size of a manor. Harry never liked the idea of sitting in Voldemort’s seat (the mere idea felt wrong, like he was completely gone) and never did sit in it. Instead, she had a large, round table set up where she and the Death Eaters took their seats. “And I don’t want any of you to drink at the Ministry gala,” added Harry, giving a pointed stare to Malfoy, Avery who looked like they wanted to sink into the ground. Barty snickered, murmuring something into his fist. Bellatrix, however, smirked in amusement. “You’re there as spies, not to fearmonger,” reminded Harry. “You won’t be doing things in Voldemort’s name under his mark, not in public. You don’t have that right.” “Don’t worry, my Lady,” chirped Bellatrix, winding her arm around her husband’s elbow, “we’ll keep the men in line.” “What about them?” “They can make a Quidditch team, that family,” said Nott, shuddering. A few of the Death Eaters laughed. “Well, they had another child. A daughter —” “At last!" cheered Rabastan, toasting his firewhiskey up into the air,  “After six of them. Now that they got a daughter, they’ll stop multiplying like rabbits.” “Hear, hear!” “What about the Weasleys, Barty?” Barty was the one mingling in with the known Order members. “Mother went to the Percy —” “They got the boy a rat for his birthday,” Bellatrix sneered. “Pathetic.” Harry said nothing. It was more sad than pathetic. “A rat... normal rat?” asked Harry, voice growing darker. “That is the thing. You know my mother —” “— bless her bloodline and may she live for centuries to come.” said Bellatrix, smiling. It was Harry, Bellatrix and Narcissa's efforts and funds that ascertained Barty’s mother healed from her illness, and since then, the woman had become their close friend, without knowing of their... More personal affairs. Barty bowed. “Thank you. You know how sympathetic my mother is to the less fortunate, so she attended the boy’s birthday party. Brought him the best gift of the lot. He showed her his rat, and it was a very peculiar rat.” Barty raised his right pinky finger. “The rat was missing this.” The next thing that happened could be best described as an uproar and call for blood. Bellatrix released a violent shriek, sitting up from her chair, eyes voids of black, fury on her face. The Lestrange brothers toppled their chairs down as they stood. “Wormtail!” they shrieked, hounds out for blood. Harry didn’t flinch. “Sit down,” snapped Harry. At once, looking like they got scolded by their mother, the Lestrange brothers and Bellatrix sat. Harry looked at Barty. “Percy... is he fond of the rat?” “Not at all. He thinks Scabbers is pathetic. He would have rather had an owl. But owls are expensive.” “What is his favourite owl?” “Great-horned one.” “Go fetch Percy one,” said Harry. “Tell your mother you want to give him a proper pet, and get the rat to a vet clinic for examination. You’ll take it in instead. Trade him for it. Scabbers for the owl. I assume you know how to trap an Animagus and the stasis spell to keep it from changing. We need him alive.” Barty nodded. “I will not fail you, my Lady.”

Harry looked at Barty. He was twenty-one now, no longer a skinny eighteen-year-old boy. He grew into his body, lean, and quite charming. He got the worst task of them all, working at the Ministry with his father, who he loathed. But he was already making a name for himself in the Department, away from his father’s shadow. He was brilliant, already in the upper middle ranks.

“I know you won’t, Barty,” Harry said, smiling softly at the man. He was like the son she never had. “Give your mother my regards.”

Barty beamed, and it brightened his face. Poor witches and wizards never stood a chance. “Of course, my Lady." “Good. Have fun at the gala, but stay on task. Dismissed.”

The Death Eaters all stood, bowed, took their cloaks, and headed for the doors to Apparate away. The plate of cupcakes Harry baked were all gone, and she felt a swell of warmth at that knowledge.

Harry saw them all out, double-checked the wards, then headed to the office wing of the house.

That was, until she heard it. Voices. Coming from the office.

They were muffled, and Harry couldn’t make anything out.

-----------

“You can mock me now.” said Voldemort.

Harry was so swept in relief that for long moments, she could not speak. The world started turning again. The stars flicked back on. A meteor could have hit the earth, wiped out all existence, and Harry wouldn't care, because her soulmate was here.

“No," said Harry slowly. “I'll save myself from wasting my breath. One ear and out the other with you, anyway.”

His face twisted, like she hexed him right into it.

“Harriet —”

“You broke your promise,” said Harry. Her heart was shaking, and she hated this feeling. Of being relieved and angry both. Of wanting to hug him and keep him away.

The red eyes stared at her in silence.

“Technically," he started tentatively, and Harry felt the anger win over, because how dare he start with that?

“Technically,” said Harry sharply, “you raised your wand on a child — excuse me, not a child, an infant — and cast the Killing Curse on him with full intent to kill him.”

“He didn’t die,” snapped Voldemort, his red eyes glowing, luminescent and vibrant. Full of life. “Therefore, I did not break my promise.”

“You intended to,” said Harry, feeling tears swell her eyes.

Voldemort did not deny it. She wished he would, even if it would be a lie.

“And I have suffered for it,” hissed Voldemort. “I have suffered, I endured my punishment, I have endured agony for it.”

“You think I haven’t suffered?” asked Harry, fighting not to scream it.

“I know you have,” said Voldemort, never looking away from her eyes, from her face, like Harry was the only thing in the world that mattered. “Antonin told me. You are the one who sent him.”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “They went to get me. Apparently, you had some Protect Harry Protocol or something... Then some of them lost their heads and I had to knock their brains back into them. You know, the usual.”

The lipless mouth twitched.

“The usual,” he echoed softly.

Silence again. It was hard, to keep away from him. It felt wrong to keep away from him. But if she didn’t keep away from him, if she gave into the magnetic pull, then Voldemort would make the same mistake again.

“Why did you go after him?” asked Harry. “You were winning. You could have won in a few months.”

Voldemort shifted. Despite being small, his presence was great and powerful. “Even with that, it would have taken a year more. The prophecy motivated the Order members. Their fighting spirits were fierce again. If I killed him, it would be over by Christmas. The Ministry would fall by May then.”

“Skipping the part with ‘I was afraid of a baby’ —” said Harry.

“I was not afraid!” hollered Voldemort, serpentine face twisting with rage. Harry thought he looked rather adorable, like a baby throwing a fuss. “He is nothing compared to me! It was his mother, she triggered the ancient protective spell by sacrificing herself for him —”

He cut off in sharp, hoarse wheezes. Harry’s heart sunk. The smile that was rising on her face did, too, and she found herself approaching Voldemort as he coughed into the blanket, concealing half of his face, his entire body jumping up and down from the force of it, large skeletal arms holding onto the blanket he was cuddled in.

When he stopped, he bundled himself further into the blanket, like a wounded snake, trying to hide away.

“I wanted to end it,” he murmured. “I wanted to win. I wanted to win. I wanted to make you happy.”

“I was happy, Tom,” Harry said, reaching forward and gently taking his feeble, skeletal hands. She did not shudder, did not recoil. “As long as we're together, I’m happy. Nothing else matters to me.”

His skeletal hand settled over hers. The red eyes stared down at their hands. A smile lifted his serpentine features.

“What?” asked Harry, confused.

“I forgot how soft your hands are,” he whispered, closing his eyes blissfully.

[r-lestrcnge]

Starter for: Emma Vanity @emmasvanity An envelope is delivered by eagle owl, bearing the Lestrange crest and sealed with stamped black wax. Enclosed is a letter, written in not quite as neat a handwriting as usual. On fine quality parchment, the family's insignia adorns the letter in proud declaration of status and nobility.

Dear Emma,

I am sorry for not meeting you as planned. I'm afraid I was badly injured and spent that evening in St Mungo's, in no fit state to recall our arrangement. I have curse-damage. To be frank, I am lucky to be alive.

I am recovering at Lestrange Manor. Would you like to visit? This illness could work to our advantage.

Please know that I did not abandon you intentionally. I would never break my word.

Sincerely,

Rabastan

[alectocarrowx]

where: lestrange manor who: @nvrcissasm

Alecto had sent Narcissa an owl, requesting her presence at the manor, needing to spend some time with the other Black sister. The witch was making her way out of the study, a book in hand to read back up in Rabastan's room, when she caught sight of blonde hair.

"I was beginning to think you forgot about me, Cissa." A faint sly smirk turned at the corners of her mouth, hugging the book to her chest. Alecto was always fascinated by Mr. Lestrange's collection and he allowed her to read them when visiting.