RP Log; Rodolphus & Jacqueline Who: Rodolphus and Jacqueline Where: Lestrange Manor What: Jacq wants more duties When: After supper, 10 October 1979
Rating: PG Status: Complete
At the appointed hour, Jacqueline had said goodbye to her parents, assured them that she would not be gone more than an hour, and that she would Apparate straight there and back with no deviations. With a minimum of hand-wringing, she was gone, spinning a neat little turn in her front foyer to arrive at the Lestrange doorstep, not wanting to go further without knowledge of the warding around the manor. After first carefully smoothing her robes and her hair, which she had worn slicked back in a bun in an attempt to look older than her baby face would have, she knocked quietly on the door and waited.
Nerves roiled in her stomach, making her feel a bit queasy as she waited for the elf to answer the door. She was about to take a very big step in her life, and part of her wished, irrationally, that Georgina or Julianne was with her now, encouraging her and telling her she was doing the right thing.
It was not an elf that answered the door, but a young woman, dressed in the sort of frock one might expect from the youngest in a long line of servants. The Lestranges deigned to allow house elves into their home, certainly, but these were kept at the very lowest levels of the house - the kitchens and cellars - and were never permitted to be seen by guests. Few could guess that Rodolphus even had such creatures in his possession, for they were under strict orders not to associate with their betters.
The girl stepped inward to allow Jacqueline entrance and then relieved her of whatever outer garments she no longer needed. "This way, m'am."
The house was rich and lush with colour and decorations; baroque artistry bedecked the walls and touched every inch of fabric and paint in every room. It seemed rather contrary to Rodolphus's stark, plain nature, but it was clear he'd had his hand in every respect of decorating. Portraits of generations upon generations of Lestrange's watched Jacqueline as she was lead down long hallways and through to lower west wing. Elsewhere Corbina was likely studying, Bellatrix preparing for her equestrian interests, Marius -- doing whatever Marius did when alone.
In the study, however, as Jacqueline would see when the servant had knocked, been admitted, and then dismissed (shutting the door behind her), Rodolphus sat looking much like he always looked: overly large, studious, and severe. He gestured vaguely toward the seat opposite him by the fire and set his book aside with surprising care upon a stand. Two narrow glasses of dark liquid created a meagre barrier between them, and while he waited for Jacqueline to speak, Rodolphus indulged in one of these.
She felt the eyes of the portraits looking down at her in what her imagination decided was a unwelcoming way. Still, she kept her back straight and her chin high as she followed the servant girl, for she was a Wilkes, and Wilkes' never showed nerves or anxiety in front of those who were inferior to them. Or those who were better than them.
She stepped into the library and waited for the girl to exit, the breeze from the closing door making her crimson robes swish around her ankles. She had chosen the colour to instil some courage in herself--she felt as though she was going to beard the lion in his den, not knowing how Rodolphus would respond to her request. He might think she was stepping outside of her place in society, or (and this she hoped against hope), he might be pleased that she wanted this for herself and for their kind.
"Good evening, Mr. Lestrange. Thank you again for meeting with me tonight." She said, knowing that he was waiting for her to speak first.
Rodolphus returned the glass to its table, a slight glassy clink the only sound for several seconds but for the crackle of firewood at the mantel. If he'd been a compassionate sort of person, he might have smiled in welcome - or attempted to make her feel more comfortable, more secure. But he was not a compassionate sort, and he had no interest in whether his severity was discomfiting.
"It was hardly a trouble," he replied, voice low and devoid of any deeper emotional sensibilities. Pragmatism reigned supreme in all things, particularly when dealing with young women he barely knew. "I have little patience for pleasantries, so feel free to state what it is you desire."
She hadn't expected a warm welcome, and so wasn't surprised that he let silence fill the room for a few seconds before responding. Still, his statement put her slightly more at ease, as they were both people with little time or patience for the trappings of society that forced one to engage in a quarter hour of small talk before one could broach the subject that was important to them. "I would like to become more involved in the cause."
A small pang of something like nostalgia (if he was truly capable of such an emotion) twisted through Rodolphus and dissipated nearly as quickly. He wondered if Jacqueline meant what he thought she meant - if she meant what Georgina had given her life to, what they'd all given their lives to - the most faithful of this cause. Or perhaps she merely wanted to be more involved with the women's group, or be given responsibilities of her own. He was hardly going to find out by wildly speculating, was he?
"And you have a particular means to do so in mind?"
Here she paused, torn between what the appropriate thing was to say. She wanted to be the most loyal, she wanted to take the mark and prove that she was worthy of this society, and to protect her family, but it was hard for her to say that out loud. She still hadn't decided that that was what would be right for her. But she certainly didn't want to help the cause by hosting picnics.
"I'm afraid I'm...limited by what my father would find acceptable." She said, hoping that he would understand that to her father, her taking the Dark Mark would be completely unwelcome.
Intelligent as he was, Rodolphus was not especially gifted in either legilimency or the subtleties of human conversation. Of course she would be limited by what her father found acceptable, but that didn't precisely give him any greater hint as to what it was she desired to be the outcome of this discussion.
"And if you were not limited?" It was the simplest way, he thought - the most plain and straightforward - to get to the crux of this issue, even if the question itself might not have been completely proper.
She schooled herself, resisting the urge to deliver the long-winded, multi-faceted answer she could feel bubbling in the back of her throat. Jacqueline was not good with straight-forward (or rather, simple) answers, no matter how well-versed she might be in expressing her opinion. "Mr. Lestrange, I'll be frank with you, as I believe that's something you would appreciate. I loved my sister dearly, and her loss still haunts me. But more than that, above and beyond that, I believe in our society. I believe that we are right, and I believe that it is necessary for us to win in order for civilization to continue. I do not like violence. I am personally not inclined toward it. However, I understand that our Lord is our greatest hope to achieve the place of superiority that we deserve and that our world needs, and that he and all who fight with him must use these methods because of the ignorance and stubborn clinging to ridiculous idealism of others. I do not want to kill people, and I do not think I am suited for it and would be a liability in battle, but I want to do whatever is in my power to help."
Rodolphus considered. An aversion to violence and a possessive father made her, unlike her sister, rather unsuited to the position of Death Eater - though Rodolphus was not entirely sure he would have encouraged such a route regardless. However, she clearly desired to do more than what was available to her currently through the women's group. It was a complicated sort of desire; they had lackeys and grunts who were not worthy to take the mark, but who acted upon the orders of the Dark Lord - but Jacqueline Wilkes was hardly created for such work.
"I am uncertain we have any duties that you would find fulfilling and that would appeal to your father's justifiable concerns for his daughter. Unfortunately, violence is a required aspect for many our peers because there is little other recourse in these dark times - and Narcissa Malfoy has taken on many of the responsibilities of those in your position who wish to do more. If you do not find her methods appealing, I am uncertain as to what I can offer you."
She nodded, frowning. This was not exactly what she wanted to hear. Jacqueline was not made for planning balls and writing delicately-worded letters to the editor. She craved more action, more danger, anything that would mean she was doing more than simply sitting around and waiting to kill or be killed. "I have no issue with Mrs. Malfoy or her methods--I'm just afraid that they are more for Julianne than for me." She brushed a hand absently against her leg, resisting the urge to twist her fingers together in consternation. "I had hoped you would need some tasks completed that were more suited to my temperament. As I said, I am not concerned with my ability to commit violence so much as I am concerned that I would prove more hindrance than help in that area."
Rodolphus tread these waters very carefully. "It is not uncommon for our apprentices" (he could hardly think of a better word) "to require extensive training in these areas, so long as they do not have an aversion to necessary action. That aversion is frequently more hindering than any lack of skill one might possess." It was not uncommon for training to begin young, either, though Rodolphus very strongly doubted that Jacqueline's father would allow one of his two remaining daughters to venture into such dangerous territory when she was meant to be married and procreating in a few short years.
"However, in your situation it would be an impropriety of the most severe kind if I were to offer a young woman such training without her father's explicit permission."
Another nod; she could not argue with that, and she knew that her father would never allow it. Lately, what she wanted more than anything was to stop being Jacqueline, constrained by society and by her sister and by her mother, and to become Georgina, who had been allowed to do what she wanted, who had been allowed to fight and work and be more than a womb with pretty manners. "I thought so."
It was difficult for Rodolphus to feel any sympathy, though it was clear (even if she was rather adept, as were many of their women, at keeping her emotions well in check) she wasn't pleased with the decision. It was simply the manner of things, it was part of the culture they worked so viciously to uphold and protect. "This doesn't satisfy you."
It was not a question.
"No, it doesn't."
"But it doesn't surprise you."
"Unfortunately, not. However, hope sprang eternal."
"And you hoped I could provide you with what, exactly?"
"Something to do with my time and talents that didn't include seating charts."
A vague semblance of something like a smile crept along the edges of Rodolphus's mouth. "I can do nothing further for you unless I have your father's permission. This propriety is essential. Even if you are not interested in devoting yourself as wholly as Regulus or Demetrius, there are lines drawn between your traditional role and what you would have me give you."
A semblance of a smile. That felt better than when she had been chosen Head Girl. "And if my father gave his blessing to giving me more responsibilities?"
"Then it would be a mere matter of pairing you to a mentor with whom you would be most successful."
"And I would be an...apprentice, to use your word?"
"Of sorts. Your title or duties would depend upon what sort of permissions your father gives."
"Well then, hope springs anew."
"Perhaps. I would save your enthusiasm for the discussion with your father. It is wasted upon me until I have been given leave to do with you as you will. These boundaries exist with due cause, Jacqueline, even if - in your loyalty - you should think otherwise." He paused here to take a slow drink from his aperitif, and then returned his attentions upon his companion. "Have Mr Wilkes contact me when you have reached a decision."
She nodded her understanding, her face showing no hint of rebellion or rejection. "I understand, sir. I understand that, as a woman, I have a certain place in society. I just like to believe that I can be able to maintain that place while doing more than making doilies."
"I would like to think," Rodolphus said, with a sudden severity, "that your peers are doing more than making doilies for our cause. Our Lord would hardly be so pleased with their efforts if they were quite so mundane."
She wisely avoided any criticisms of her peers, as she knew that the consequences she might incur for them far outweighed any dislike or disdain she felt. "I was merely making reference to what some people thought a woman's role should be in life."
Wise indeed, for Rodolphus's patience would have ended abruptly had he thought she was attempting to drag down the ladies who were loyal to this cause merely to make a point. "Yes." He replied abruptly. "Such references are unnecessary; I have no need for conversational frippery and it would displease me immensely should I believe you were disdainful of the work in which our sisters have partaken."
Here she tried to avoid looking like he had kicked her puppy. "Of course I am not disdainful. As I said earlier, I am merely concerned with being utilized for the cause in the area which I am most suited, and there are other women who are much more suited for the type of work that Narcissa does than I am."
"Very well. I shall expect to hear some news soon, regardless of the decision." It seemed a straightforward enough sort of conversation, and, assuming it was over, Rodolphus pulled his book back into his palms. "Was there any other points of interest you wished to raise?"
"I will talk to my father straight away and let you know his decision." Her eyes fell to the book, and she restrained the natural urge to look to see what he had chosen for reading. "Not tonight, unless you are in the mood to hear about my latest intellectual debate." She said, a hint of a friendly smirk at her lips.
Though his instinctive answer was 'no thank you,' - as Rodolphus rarely humoured anyone in that regard but his sisters - he slowly set the book back into its position beside his brandy and returned his hands to his laps, where they lingered only a minute before delving into his vest for a cigarette and matches. "Go on." Within moments blue smoke curled over his fingers and lips.
Her eyes widened a bit, taken completely aback by his agreement. She had been kidding, and now he wanted her to talk about what she had been thinking about lately, which she wasn't sure he would like to hear, as it was based on reading a Muggle text. "Do you--do you have an interest in religions?"
Rodolphus quietly devoured his cigarette as she attempted to broach the subject. He didn't mind spending time with the younger generation, per se, it was just an unusual sort of occurrence. He was perfectly aware that he terrified a good portion of them - which was useful, since it prevented them from erring too badly for fear of repercussion. "I have a small section of my library to such curiosities, but I would not call it an interest, necessarily." He flicked his cigarette, and the magical ash twirled around itself before fading into nothing. "I assume you do."
Well, that was a start. "Not religions themselves, per se. What I'm interested in is our species--our distinct, superior species that shares many similarities with Muggles in terms of our biological functions. I think you might know how keenly interested in Eugenics I am, and that has led me to an interest in Charles Darwin's theories, which have been helpful in understanding this school of philosophy, even if they are from an inferior source. This has led me to postulate that Magical people and Muggles are branches of the same mother species, where the inferior offspring has managed to survive because there has been no competition for resources that would require the Wizard species to eliminate the lesser species--at least, that is the historical reason for how they have survived to this point despite their limited abilities."
"Which brings me to religion, as I have recently been reading a copy of the Muggle Bible, which, while clearly a compendium of superstition and ignorance, has at it's beginning dual Creation stories--what I believe are the remnant of the time when Muggles were aware of our existence, and knew that they were not the rulers of this planet. I believe this survives because it began as their way of conceptualizing that which they feared and didn't understand (that we were a superior species despite their inherent and misguided cockiness over their own dominance), and that it has survived translations and editings because there is an inherent instinct in Muggles that they are neither alone nor the paramount species."
Rodolphus would have been lying to himself were he not to admit that he found her sudden outbursted train of thought surprising. Faced with a female population made up greatly of those disinterested in intellectualism (with a few profound exceptions; Corbina and Evangeline sprung to mind), he rarely expected to find himself interested in 'new' ideas, which were usually rehashed interpretations of some journal here or thesis there. Her idea was only half familiar - he'd certainly heard this 'single source evolution' theory before (in fact, he believed the journal might have been in this very office, and he turned a moment in what might have been construed as disinterest to see if it still sat upon the requisite shelf - it did) - but the religious implications... these were new.
"Hrm." He heavily around his cigarette, puffs of smoke spilling out and giving him an impression of being rather like a great grumpy dragon. Within moments he'd fled his chair and attacked the book cases behind him - a tiny portion of his personal library (the rest being in the library proper), but one that he knew quite well - pulling forth a battered looking journal and a rather thing book. "This is in German," he said, carefully handing over the yellowed journal, "but if you can have it translated you might find some information for your evolutionary theories that are magical in origin." The next. "This is a book detailing precisely the opposite viewpoint. I would read both, consider the facts of each, and then put forth an hypothesis that addresses the points of both." This. This was Rodolphus's element, and even though here he was still as brusque, as pragmatic as ever, the fire could be seen alight in his eyes, academic curiosity and the encouragement of such in others always a great passion.
"As to the religion aspect," he continued, settling back into his chair. "If such a remnant were true, do you think it logical that such a religious text would be used in the unbridled slaughter of those suspected to be our kind throughout the centuries? My own family was driven from the continent because of these witch trials - and I am certain the impetus was the very book you reference."
It was suddenly exciting in the room, like the atmosphere had been given a distinct electric charge. Jacqueline watched, thrilled as he moved about the room, retrieving books and handing them to her, a fellow spirit clearly excited by the pursuit of knowledge. She wondered briefly why he hadn't been in Ravenclaw, and for a fleeting moment shared the private joke that it was probably because he would have threatened the Hat with certain destruction if that had not been what he wanted. She turned over the two books he handed her, nodding. "I can muddle through German, if I need to." She said absently, already excited at the prospect of expanding on the base of knowledge for her theory.
When he sat back down, she nearly followed him, then remembered at the last moment that she was still beholden to the rules of society, despite their new intellectual rapport. "I think it's perfectly logical. From my limited reading on the subject, they've been using it to justify the unbridled slaughter of any type of person they feared for centuries." She waved her hand vaguely, not having the book there to tap to make her point. "It's a collection of rules, fables, and stories where things that can only be done by one of our kind are the works of their god. I think that this, along with the fact that they continue to have tales to this day about the things we know are real and hide from them, proves that there is an innate sense that we exist. And I'm sure, whenever there was the slightest bit of proof that their secret fears might be justified, they turned to that book for advice." She paused, pulling from her memory a particular quote she had circled several times when she first read it. "And it said 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.'"
A sneer swept over Rodolphus's face almost instantly. Suffer a witch to live. Sounded like the typical dredge they'd suffered at the hands of animals for years upon years. Animals who had no concept of what existed beyond their own banal, pathetic little lives. His face was terribly hard, and he flicked his cigarette into the fire with a sort of vicious pleasure, lighting another before the first had even been consumed by flame.
"I would not be so quick to justify such an opinion. It is the mark of powerful intellect to use every means possible to disprove one's hypotheses; only if they stand against the tests of logic and argument should they be considered worthwhile." He had no religious sorts of journals to point her toward at his immediate access, but he was certain he could locate them. "I can attempt to acquire relevant articles, though I believe most of these come from eastern Europe."
The only thing that kept her on her feet in the face of that sneer was knowing that it wasn't directed at her. If it had been, she probably would have burst into tears and started begging for her life to be spared--he was a really intimidating presence, even when their conversation was congenial. "You're right, of course. It's very difficult to maintain intellectual distance when faced with the complete lack of sophistication and ignorance of their culture." Another nod at the mention of the articles. "I would be most appreciative."
Pulling a small black book from his pocket (and a similarly small quill), Rodolphus quickly made a note for himself and replaced his utensils. "Objectivism is near impossible with such a deeply sensitive topic" - even Rodolphus had to admit a certain emotional vulnerability when it came to the filth they were forced to intersperse with - "but it is essential. I will locate the texts and send them on as quickly as possible. Until I have had time to better familiarise myself with these religious texts to which you refer, it would be impossible for me to speculate further."
Mustering every last ounce of composure and discipline that was inherent and instilled within her from eighteen years of training, she managed to keep her expression impassive at the sight of his large hands wielding such (comparatively) comically tiny instruments. "I look forward to hearing your thoughts. The relevant passages are, as I said, at the very beginning--1 and 2 Genesis. Their...rule about witches is in...Exodus." She said, pulling the name from her memory after a moment's pause.
Rodolphus nodded, though he did not intend to read a book unless he was to read it front to back. He only deigned to read it at all because of the age of the material and the likelihood that it provided some sort of meaningful insight into wizarding ideals at that time as well. Ah, the days before the Statute of Secrecy - those were times to ponder, weren't they? "Forgive my abruptness, but I desire to finish these chapters before meeting my wife at the stables. I will be interested in discussing this further with you when we are both better educated upon the topics."
Well, then he was in for quite the intellectual adventure. Made up mostly of frustration and a healthy dose of anger and bewilderment. "I understand, sir. Please let me know when you're interested in meeting again. And thank you, again, for having me over tonight."