RP Log; Rodolphus + NPC Who: Rodolphus Lestrange and Madam Malkin (played by the lovely Sabrina) Where: Madam Malkin's shop What: An intimidation of sorts When: 11 February, 1979
Status: Complete, logged Rating: PG
It had been a long sort of day; Rodolphus received an owl from his master that morning and had set to work making the afternoon happen. He attended to his library all day, ordering Prewett this way and that, upstairs and down, so his rare act of generosity in letting the boy go home early would not seem unduly kind. The place cleared out easily in mid afternoons and Rodolphus didn't even have to give anyone the evil eye to get out of the place on time. Four o'clock sharp and he was apparating out of Hogsmeade and into Diagon, where he had a very certain target in mind.
Many of his peers would be at home with beauty charms and polyjuice, but Rodolphus knew the kind of impact fear had on a person. He'd chosen his target well and doubted strongly that come hell or high water, Madam Malkin would dare report him for what he planned on suggesting to her. He thusly went alone, unaltered, and calm - and the only sign of thought or tension upon him as he entered the door was a stiff tug of his collar. A lone bell heralded his entrance.
Malkin jumped slightly at the bell. She had been on edge for the entirety of the day, the entire last week really. After the attack in Hogsmeade she'd tried to avoid the paper but had found herself scouring the pages either morning for more news - some sign that the Ministry or the Prophet or just somebody had some clue what was going on and that such an attack would not happen again either in Hogsmeade or anywhere else for that matter. She felt it would be somewhat more difficult to stage something like that in the middle of London, like it or not Diagon was in the middle of a Muggle city if not precisely visible to it, but it could still happen and it was that thought that was setting her on edge more so than she normally would be.
She looked up to see Rodolphus Lestrange standing in the front of her shop, and she nervously dropped the quill she'd been using to write out orders of a new fabric from France. She picked it up quickly, smoothed back a stray hair and moved over to assist him.
"Good afternoon, Mr Lestrange," she gave him a smile. "What can I do to assist you? Some new dress robes perhaps? We have a lovely new set in from Italy; very well designed."
"I'd be delighted." It was strange how easily politeness came to him; Rodolphus couldn't be called charming by any means, since he wasn't normally attentive to other human beings, but he was polite enough and mild mannered in these mundane social settings. His size offset the balance of power, however, and he was perfectly aware that even with magic, his brawn made him an imposing, if not intimidating, companion. He stepped aside so she might show him the robes, and though he had never been particularly skilled at small talk or manipulating conversations, it seemed easy enough to do this small thing upon the Dark Lord's bidding.
"Terrible thing, was Hogsmeade. I imagine the number of Muggleborns shopping in the wizarding towns decreases daily." He looked to her to confirm or deny the speculation, perusing over the robes with some mild interest. He had better things to do than shop, but it was an easy enough distraction.
She swallowed a bit nervously, uncertain where the conversation might be leading. There had, in fact, been a Muggleborn in her shoppe earlier in the day, although staring at Lestrange she didn't think she would admit to it. He was much larger than her, and she took a step back from the rack, simply allowing him to look at the robes she had motioned to.
"It was quite terrible," she agreed. "So much damage and destruction. Shopping there is not so much an option now, of course. I suppose they do shop somewhere. Obviously. Well, that's just a silly statement, an obvious one. Where else would they get magical things?" She shut her mouth. Why must you babble on so incessantly?
Rodolphus smoothed his hand over a particularly lovely shade of red and slowly let it fall back among the others. "I quite like this red." He glanced back to her counter as if to suggest, nonverbally, that she might busy herself with looking up his measurements and save herself the trouble of prattling on when he could speak for her.
"It's very true. The muggles must shop for magical things I suppose." He glanced around now, a smile tucked very vaguely away somewhere in his expression. "But I also suppose this isn't a particularly magical store, is it?"
Malkin blinked and immediately reached for her wand, summoning a parchment piece and a quill, which she set to making notations for her. "It is a lovely red isn't it, then?" She stepped forward. "Just here, Mr Lestrange," she motioned for him to hold his arm out so she could take the length measurement. "Well, no it isn't, is it then? Nothing particularly magical about cloth, unless you're talking about an invisible cloak, I suppose. But then, I don't usually sell those." She laughed nervously. She placed the tape at the back of his neck and took the proper measurements.
Rodolphus smiled in a way that might have been interpreted as indulgent were he another man entirely and not prone to eschewing the kinds of human emotion that most people take comfort in. "No indeed. So one has to wonder..." he let his arm move subtly so that she was forced to come ever so slightly closer than comfortable to take his measurement; it gave him a chance to stare thoughtfully at her in a way designed to make her as uncomfortable as possible - without giving her a covert reason to feel thusly.
"One has to wonder, Madam Malkin, why you would put yourself at risk by serving such a controversial segment of the public." His brows knit into a kind of concern, and for Rodolphus it was actually a genuine sort, as he wasn't prone to concealing or creating emotion that didn't exist. He bore her no hostility - in fact, he almost pitied her for the dealings she was all but forced to make in order to keep her shop running. Obviously she wouldn't have willingly chosen to cater to muggleborns. He was giving her the opportunity to stop. It made sense. It was good. It was right.
She dropped her tape measure and hastily picked it up again. "Well, of course, that's true. I don't really... er..." She took a slight step back. She really didn't want to have this conversation with him. "I suppose I didn't think about it as being a risk, particularly, I mean, they aren't dangerous..." she trailed off.
The Muggleborns might not be dangerous, but she could feel that Lestrange was. And those that had attacked Hogsmeade certainly were dangerous. Had it been because of Muggleborns as well. "I suppose robes can be purchased anywhere," she said uncertainly, hastily grabbing her quill and making notes on her parchment. "You liked the red?" She asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.
"I do." Simple and brusque, Rodolphus wasn't about to let her change the subject. He had a very certain goal here, and though he could sense the woman's discomfort - and, in fact, wished to allay that discomfort, he would not desist until he'd gotten what he wanted - her compliance. "Dangerous..." He said the word as if considering, low and mild and in a disquietingly hushed voice. "... I must disagree with you Madam. Think of the danger they bring upon ... your shop, for example. By their mere presence. There are those who might do you harm simply for interacting with these people, much less selling them goods."
He turned slightly, so that she could measure across his chest, eyes dark and grim. "It would sadden me greatly if anything were to happen to this shop."
Madam Malkin swallowed a bit. "Oh, well, I... that's... that's very kind of you Mr Lestrange. I'm sure nothing..." she stopped. "You believe some would... well..." She turned away, making notes on her parchment. What could she say? Muggleborns were not a large portion of her business, it was true. But it would hurt her to turn them away entirely. On the other hand, it might hurt her more if those who had been in the Wizarding World for generations were to stop buying from her.
"I believe I would like the same set in dark green and blue," Rodolphus added on, keeping her in his periphery but otherwise remaining mild mannered; nonchalance was not in his nature, so he made up for it with sincerity, and though Malkin might have believed a great number of things about him, it was quite certain she would not believe him a liar. His suggestions had more than a ring of truth to them, though he wondered how he might get across that it was not her business about which she should worry, but her life.
He seemed to anticipate her worry, continuing on in the same low, but heartfelt manner (which was a bit difficult to appreciate, really, Rodolphus having a heart at all). "I believe some would take their anger at Muggleborns out upon you, yes. I also believe that those who put you in danger - those muggleborns - will not stop putting you in danger by choice." He stretched, considering his measurements on her parchment and then looking off into her store. "It is a dark time, Madam. We must do what is best for ourselves and our families."
Madam Malkin nodded. "That's quite true," she nodded, feeling guilty even as she said it. Could she honestly say she wouldn't serve those of Muggle birth? She'd known quite a few Muggleborn witches and wizards and they were often very polite and excellent customers. "I... I suppose that is true. I do want my customers to feel safe when they come to visit me," she added. And if she served Muggleborns, would her other customers feel safe? If there were those who would destroy her shoppe as they had destroyed the buildings in Hogsmeade her customers would be in danger.
"Dark green and blue," she murmured, making those notes. "Will you want them delivered in person to your home, or will you be back in to pick them up? In either circumstance, naturally, you will be afforded a second fitting to ensure the best fit possible."
"I shall return for them," and there was an almost ominous sort of lilt to his voice and Rodolphus stared firmly at his seamstress as he spoke, insisting upon eye-contact. His normal sort of fittings were so dull by comparison, and one had to wonder at his intensity on this day. He really did rather like the store - it was a piece of wizarding society and he had no desire for harm to come to it; but he would, if necessary, tear it apart shingle by shingle if she didn't do as he asked, and he hoped that was the impression she was getting - if not overtly.
"Assuming, of course," and he glanced to the expensive pieces of fabric that draped across the counter. "That you are still well and thriving when I return."
Madam Malkin swallowed, placing her parchment on her counter. She felt very exposed despite the warm surroundings of the shoppe, and her own robes which were long sleeved and quite covered her. "Yes, of course," she nodded. "I shall have them ready in a few weeks, if that will suffice?"
She looked up at him hesitantly meeting his eyes. "I shall definitely have them here," she said a bit more clearly, cringing internally as she did so. She would insist on delivering the robes she had ordered through delivery, not inside the shoppe and she would have no other customers of Muggle birth. She understood what she was agreeing too and intuitively she understood that if she did not agree to it, her shoppe would be in danger and more than that, her life.
Rodolphus offered her a very rare sort of smile before reshuffling his overcoat and stepping away toward the counter. From his jacket he produced a sack of galleons - a downpayment, but symbolic, perhaps, of something more ominous.
"I look forward to seeing you then, Madam. May you have a peaceful week." And it was done. His mission complete and his heart resting easy, Rodolphus awaited her acceptance of his well wishes and then idly, easily, set off on his way once again.