Log: Corbina and Rodolphus Who: Corbina and Rodolphus Where: Their parents' home in Breckland When: The Afternoon of 23 June 1979 What: Family bonding!
Status: Complete Rating: PG
It had been an extraordinarily rainy June. But wasn't that always the way of things? In that brief span of time between winter's frigidness and the unbearable heat that usually accompanied summer, in those few months when time should naturally be able to be spent outdoors without piling on extra layers of clothing or drowning in cooling charms, it rained. There were ways of getting around that as well -- verandas to sit under, umbrellas that could be broken out of winter storage -- but there was something about the hypnotic tapping of raindrops on the windowpane and the occasional crash of thunder in the distance that kept Corbina from desiring to make the effort. At least the weather had done well at providing appropriate atmosphere.
Instead she had spent the afternoon tucked away in the sitting room connected to her bedroom, curled up in the pillows piled onto the window-seat, her journal laying open and unread in her lap. It was getting close to dinner time. Her thoughts rebelled a bit -- maybe she just wouldn't go to dinner -- but Corbina knew that such things were most definitely not an option. Getting on the bad side of her parents once was more than enough for one day.
After a quick glance towards the door to make sure that it was properly closed, (and giving it an extra nudge shut with wave of her wand for good measure), Corbina pulled out a pack of cigarettes from beneath one of the window-seat's cushions, opening the window the slightest crack before lighting it. Perhaps it wasn't a proper thing to do, especially not while sitting inside, but there was no harm in it if no one was around to see, right? That was a mistake that she knew not to repeat twice.
And where Corbina scorned the weather as a fit of universal irony, Rodolphus saw it as utterly apt. Breckland was Lestrange land, and by Merlin if there was a family in ill spirits these past few nights, it was theirs. He wondered if it was their mother's frigidity that made the angels weep so, and as he glanced upward at the thought, he almost - very nearly - let a smile breeze across his hard-set jaw and lips. If that were so, the countryside would never see a speck of sun, now would it?
He was becoming overly familiar with the weather, as he'd decided, rather ill advisedly, to make the trip manor to manor upon horseback - for though the journey was tedious, the arduous ride fit his mood and the physical catharsis seemed a salve for his temper. Several days in a holding cell with no company but for that French hellion... it was unthinkable, the injustices he was forced to endure for this government. He was no angrier at his arrest now than a similar arrest months ago; guilt or innocence played no part in his rationale, but the motivation, the lack of respect given to those of his peerage. Intolerable.
He'd had plenty of time to reflect this and consume several pipes full of tobacco by the time he arrived at his parents' home and, groaning inwardly, recognised an elegant carriage just outside the garden pathways. Chloris was visiting. He certainly knew how to pick the best times, didn't he?
Handing off the horse to a stableboy, who looked both put out at being forced into open air in this weather and terrified of the eldest Lestrange child, Rodolphus did not approach the house, but examined the upper windows. If Chloris caught him by the ear, he was done for - but perhaps his slightly less offensive sister was home.
Ah, yes, Chloris had definitely made her presence known the moment she'd arrived for a visit, which may or may not have been an additional reason behind Corbina's desire for solitude. Her older sister had a way of making her opinions heard even when she was several rooms away. Corbina thought briefly about how Marius constantly went on about the jarring tonality of English accents. No wonder his opinion of them was as it was: they had a prime example sitting in with them at family functions.
The affairs within her journal grew tedious quickly, and Corbina's attention drifted once more out the window. Even with the rain obscuring the view, it was impossible not to notice the arrival of her oldest brother. (Not many people were as tall as that, and even fewer were allowed anywhere near their property.) Under normal circumstances, Corbina likely would have left her room to go meet him up front. After all, it would be lovely to see a member of her family who wasn't intent on pointing out her imperfections, as had seemed to be the fun family bonding event of the day.
Instead she put out her cigarette, dulling the end and (deciding against simply dropping it out the window) vanished it, and opened her window the slightest bit more, careful not to let the rain inside. Corbina waved Rodolphus up, taking her wand in her other hand, ready to attempt to grab his attention via other methods should the first not work.
Though, admittedly, it was difficult to see the smear of white skin and brown hair against so many other smears of brown and white that made up the external stonework of his childhood home, Rodolphus was looking for his sister, and thus caught glimpse of her quickly enough. And now... decisions. He wasn't one for shimmying ledges, so that was right out, but he certainly wasn't taking the front entrance and risking running headlong into Chloris. It wasn't as though he wasn't a full grown male and she wasn't the shortest, slightest family member... but he doubted his mother would take kindly to him knocking her over in an effort to escape what would undoubtedly be a lecture on why his arrests were not helping the family name. As if she cared! She didn't even have the family name any more.
Back entrance, then, and Rodolphus ignored the sudden gushings of servants as they flailed about, terrified that they hadn't been informed of his arrival. "See that nobody else is," he growled out, knowing that command would be disobeyed immediately, for if anyone wasn't worth displeasing, it was their father, Alcander Lestrange. One did not let anyone into this house without informing the master, even if it was one of the children.
Still, it would give him a chance to get away and his mother would have to locate him before she could attempt to love at him, and perhaps he'd have a few minutes of sanity before the apocalypse rained down upon his head. Perhaps.
Rodolphus took the stairs two at a time into the West wing, and with a vague knock that was more polite than necessary, he announced himself into Corbina's room.
While it would have provided amusement that could not be duplicated to see Rodolphus attempt to climb up the window lattice, it was likely for the best that he disappeared from sight through the window for a moment, deciding on another route. There was a certain level of class that would likely vanish with the action, as well as the concern that Corbina's brother was not the smallest fellow in the world. Though the charms on everything decorating the Lestrange manor were strong, she wasn't quite sure if it would hold.
In the few minutes before his arrival (unless Rodolphus found himself cornered by another member of their family; then it would likely be hours before he would escape), Corbina stashed away any evidence of her "filthy habits," just as a precaution. There was always the chance that if Rodolphus wasn't cornered that he would be followed, and while it would be good to see him, the idea of further visitors was not as favourable.
Corbina had made out the sound of her brother on the stairs long before he'd knocked -- of course she had, she wasn't deaf -- and called him inside with a simple "it's unlocked," before Rodolphus had finished knocking. Her thoughts briefly went to her appearance; it wasn't as if it would be the first time that Rodolphus had seen his younger sister in a bruised, slightly roughed-up state post one of their father's Draconian lessons on proper behaviour, and she'd tended to seeing that her eye was no longer quite as discoloured -- shockingly, Chloris was good for something. Naturally one of her greatest talents had to do with furthering a person's narcissism -- but she did rather hope that he wouldn't make a big deal out of it. He'd just gotten out of jail. That was rather more concerning.
Ah, the telltale signs of their father's displeasure. Rodolphus was not so much surprised or horrified as he was curious, and he closed the door behind him (and, on second thought, locked it) before pulling out two cigarettes, lighting them and passing one off to his sister. He probably oughtn't have encouraged the somewhat unladylike behaviour in his youngest sibling, but as far as Rodolphus was concerned, the number of unseemly activities women engaged in in this day and age did not compare to the harmless luxury of indulging in a bit of tobacco. Besides, there were charms to cure any offence to the aesthetic sensibilities the activity might inflict. Et cetera, et cetera. The point being that he'd never been told not to enable his sister by his parents and thus felt no compunction in doing so.
Besides, it would keep her hands busy while he grabbed her chin and peered at her bruises. "What happened, exactly?" He grumbled around his cigarette. Most people liked to say hello, how are you, I've missed you, let's hug. Rodolphus wasn't most people.
And just as Rodolphus had never been told not to enable his sister, Corbina had always been taught that it was rude to refuse gifts from family members, and thus graciously accepted. Not that it was a simple task to smoke with someone holding one's chin, and so Corbina waited patiently for Rodolphus to finish observing her injuries.
"Apparently I was rude to the Yaxley fellow when he stopped in this morning for tea. He seems to not enjoy the company of women who are smarter than him, nor do I think it was the brightest idea on my account to attempt to smoke one of these," she gestured with the hand holding the cigarette, "while he was visiting. He is rather self-obsessed; it was like taking tea with Chloris's male doppelgänger."
"Oho." Secretly delighted, Rodolphus tutted (which was something of a challenge with a cigarette between his lips) and dug into some inner pocket for a small vial of eglantine, which he uncorked, tipped onto his thumbpad, and then smeared onto her face. "Rub that in," (ah yes, Rodolphus affection tended to be of the monosyllabic variety), "and don't antagonise Father." He probably didn't have to tell her, but if she insisted upon blatantly disrespecting idiots in front of him, the next time might involve something broken, and as jaded as he was to their father's violence, Rodolphus tended to uncharacteristic softness where Corbina was concerned.
He moved away to a seat near the ledge his sister occupied and slumped into it, looking entirely too large to be allowed. After a moment's contemplation, his large brows furrowed together, and he exhaled a complaint laced with blue smoke. "The idea of Chloris having a doppelgänger is unsettling in the extreme."
"I know," Corbina replied, despite the fact that she was well aware that Rodolphus already would have known that she knew not to anger her father had she not spoken. It wasn't that she had meant to antagonise her father on purpose. Yaxley had just been so terribly dull, and even her patience had its limits when she was having a nicotine craving. But that could be fixed now. She first placed the cigarette in her mouth, then went to work at smoothing in the eglantine that her brother had gooped onto her face, appreciative that he apparently carried such things around with him.
"Isn't it terrifying?" she asked earnestly, a small smile playing at her lips. "I didn't think it possible for another person to be so utterly in love with himself. And I know far more about his collection of shot glasses than I ever cared to. He's nicknamed them."
Rodolphus had the misfortune of knowing Chloris rather well - in fact, she'd been rather a miracle child at the time of her birth (nearly 25 years after his own and more than 20 after the birth of their ill-fated brother Altais), though if he heard that term one more time he might lose what modicum of patience he had regarding her altogether - and though he thought her the most insufferably self-and-society absorbed person he'd ever had the misfortune to clap eyes upon, she had never gone about telling people how she'd nicknamed her dishware. The very idea of such frippery made Rodolphus pause, cigarette halfway to mouth, and simply stare at his sister, eyebrow crunched down in a look of uncomfortable distaste.
"Why exactly was this person over for tea?" He managed, though he knew the answer already. This seemed to be the kind of conversation that typically went on in this house - predictability at the very basest level.
"I am nineteen years old, and it is high time that I take my place as a productive member of society," Corbina replied with the same sort of bored air that always accompanied such discussions; it was not that she had any lack of respect for the way in which society ran, or for the hand in life which she had been dealt, but she hoped at least that when she was matched with someone for marriage, that she and her husband would be able to hold an intelligent conversation with each other.
She paused for a moment, concerning herself with smoking for a brief while as she reflected on the events of the morning. She would have rolled her eyes, had that not been paying effort to the memory that was in no way deserved. "I thought that I was paying him a compliment, to be honest," Corbina explained, although her smirk clearly revealed that she'd intended it to be nothing of the sort. "He seemed so very attached to one of the glasses he'd acquired in particular: the azure blue one from Venice, with the gentle green flecks of colour about the rim which always catch the sunlight just so," she repeated the way it had been described to her earlier down to the last word. "He referred to it as perfection in a slight package, and then asked me to guess what he'd named it. I figured with such a glorified description he only could have named it after himself."
Rodolphus found the mimicry a little too apt, and dared to indulge in the vaguest of near-smiles as he watched his cigarette loose itself of ash (which tumbled a few inches before dissipating magically into the air). Nineteen indeed, and he didn't envy their father the task of marrying Corbina off - not because she was too difficult to match, but because she wasn't stupid enough to ignore the blatant flaws in a potential mate. Really, Rodolphus thought, Alcander ought to have approved of her razor sharp talent at assessing other human beings, but he imagined that there was a fine balance (in Father's eyes) between talent and airs.
Any idiot should have seen that Yaxley was not suitable, but Rodolphus didn't think highly of his mother's decision making skills. Oh, she'd found Proserpina just fine, but when it came down to understanding what her children sought in a companion, she hadn't the faintest idea. Perhaps being married to their father for so many years had dulled her sense of reality, who knew?
"Pray, spare me the grisly details, lest I drift into catatonia," he droned.
"But I haven't yet even gotten to the highly-detailed explanation of calligraphy on its side!" Which, clearly, would have been tragic. Sadly, poor Rodolphus's life would go on unfulfilled without hearing the finer points of such things.
Since he insisted, though, she supposed she would do him the ultimate disservice of not continuing on with the morning's events. Instead, she would change the topic completely, as Corbina had no desire to reflect any further on Yaxley and his obsession with miniature crystal drinking glasses. "I've heard that you've had just as enjoyable a time these last few days," she broached the topic of Rodolphus's arrest carefully, not wanting to flood him with rants of worry, but still concerned as to how he had held up. She trusted he would be fine, as usual -- it was Rodolphus -- but she did wish that the Ministry would cease in poking its nose into her family's affairs.
A wrinkle of displeasure curved across an otherwise thoughtful brow, and somewhere beneath, Rodolphus's lips pressed tightly together a moment before he spoke. "Ah, yes. Our good friends in the auror office considered it best for public safety that I be removed to a cell. No proof, as per their typical modus operandi, and here I sit unscathed to tell the tale." But behind his eyes, across his tightened jaw, lay unbidden the signs of a different story - or, perhaps, a story within a story. Josephine's unconventional questioning methods had left him somewhat scathed, in fact - a reality that he would attend to soon enough when he could escape the aurors trailing him and hold her by the throat, make her understand the penalties for ill-bred behaviour. But that was not a reflection for family members - at least not unbidden. Corbina lay the closest to Rodolphus's truths, but he was not inclined to flaunt them.
"Father and mother took it well, I assume."
Corbina knew that Rodolphus knew their parents and their reactions well enough to where she needn't provide his question with a vocalised answer. That had certainly made for interesting dinnertime conversation, informing her parents that their eldest son had been arrested on suspicions of murder. Not, of course, that they were not justified suspicions, as they were very correct suspicions, but as there was no proof of anything, they proved only to make things irksome rather than worrying. No Lestrange had any reason to be locked up in jail for half a week, and it was high time that their government realised such things.
"I am glad to hear it," Corbina replied, flicking a few ashes out the still-prone window, watching her brother's expression change slightly as he considered her statement. "You can expect mother to begin hovering over you the instant the help informs her of your arrival," she noted, turning in her seat to face Rodolphus more directly, her legs pulled up underneath her.
"If I were a crueller man, I would leave you to make my apologies and excuses." But whatever cruelty gripped Rodolphus's innards did not extend to his family, and he knew better than to leave Corbina to his father's good graces with the message that he'd appeared only long enough to inform the youngest member of his situation. Still, he did not relish the attention that would come very soon, and he glanced at his pocket-watch before flicking his use-dulled cigarette through the window and pulling out another. Vexing did not begin to cover confrontations in this household. His father would demand to know the details of the interrogation and his mother would fret up at him. It was wearying. Most men might enjoy the attention, but Rodolphus found the demands excessive, exhausting. He'd moved from this household to be his own man, not to report upon his life's every detail.
And yet, here he was, of his own volition no less. Say what one would about Alcander and Thubana Lestrange, they raised very obedient children.
"They will keep arresting us," he mused, smoke twisting over his words, "from now until the day of their judgement, but they will never end it. Let us hope these inconveniences are worth it in the end, mm?"
Corbina would have to remember to set some air freshening charms off in her room before either of them left, as she was sure that an unexposed nose would pick out the scent of smoke within milliseconds, and she did not wish to deal with any more cigarette-induced drama at the moment. She would have done so immediately, but there was little point to trying to erase the smell with her own not yet finished and Rodolphus's chain-smoking habit still lurking near the window.
"It's a waste of time, ours and their own," Corbina stated, curling her hair behind her ear and mirroring her brother's toss of his finished cigarette out the window with her own. She was certain that the servant she'd entrusted to care for that little "mess" that liked to collect itself outside her window would remove any evidence before either of her parents saw it. "And in the end they will regret doing so," she continued, the statement as light and honest as if she'd simply noted that the sky was blue. "You would think that by now they would have realised that they should enjoy things as they are now while they can."
"They will never waver." His reply was brusque, but only because the gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon him. "They will fight until the bitter end, foolishly, arrogantly, self-righteously. And when they are finally broken beneath what is moral and good and right, only then will they finally bow to the greater path." Except Josephine. Josephine would never break beneath a movement. He would afford her the courtesy of doing it personally.
"And when that day comes, dear sister, our greatest worry will be finding you a suitor worthy of your attention and mother's stringent demands." He allowed himself to smile, and leaned forward to wipe off a bit of the residual oil from her cheek. Affection was not his strong point, but he managed, in his stoic way.
"Let's hope that day comes sooner than later then," she nodded in what likely could have been a toast-worthy statement, had they drinks in hand. It would be a relief once things finally changed for the better, for how they were supposed to be. Especially if that change allowed her mother to actually pay attention to the ridiculous sorts of potential suitors she had been setting Corbina up with, rather than with arrogant, boring fellows who spent more time on their hair than on important matters.
"Do you think that you should find them on your own accord?" she inquired, glancing subconsciously towards the door, knowing that it was locked but also knowing that privacy was not something that was always heeded when members of her family desired something. "They might go easier if you... what do they call it? "Come quietly"?" she smiled, the idea of anything she'd said striking her as highly amusing. Her father's reaction would be the same, no doubt, whenever it was that he and Rodolphus "discussed," and she was positive that he would have a difficult time detaching himself from their mother no matter when she finally hunted him down. "Or I could call for someone to bring up drinks."
Rodolphus's response was a non-committal "I suppose," and he let the last few tendrils of smoke curl away from him before shifting from his seat. It was a pity there was no way to track down his father specifically and cut him off from the rest of the pack, but he supposed - in a fit of blind naivete - that seeing his mother after nearly a month wouldn't be That Bad, and that he could stand even Chloris for limited amounts of time. Curse his familial popularity.
As he moved to the window to toss his cigarette through, Rodolphus paused a moment, eyed his sister, and pulled up the window seat cover, from which he apprehended the pack of cigarettes she'd stashed their earlier. She had changed very little over the years in certain respects. "Don't smoke this muggle garbage." In two swift movements, he'd tossed the pack through the window and dropped his own cigarette case beneath the cushion.
Although her expression only wavered for a moment (half that, even!) Corbina regarded the loss of her cigarettes, muggle or not, with a great deal of sadness, watching them fall from the window to the ground. Although she could not see directly beneath her window, she was somewhat relieved now that it was raining, as it meant that the gardener would not be hovering, becoming a chance victim of cigarette carton bludgeoning.
It would be fine, though. She had other hiding places that were still fully stocked. And now a case of the wizarding variety, which was always a good thing. "Well, now I won't have to," Corbina said with a slight smirk, patting down the cushion to make sure they were obscured from sight. She would leave the fact that she acquired the muggle ones from Marius unmentioned; there was no reason to get her nephew in trouble with his father simply because she, on occasion, enjoyed some variety to her addictions. "I trust you have more at home, yes? I wouldn't want you to go through withdrawal."
"Well, I've been thinking of quitting," he replied airily - or as airily as a ridiculously large person can reply. He paused a moment before heading out the door, as if conflicted about showing some sign of affection, and then reached out and fluffed her hair, likely ruining whatever epic womanly hair style was going on there. It always looked the same to him, usually just fluffier or curlier or straighter than usual. "Coming to watch the embarrassment?"
"If you were honestly quitting, I would leave my hair like this for an entire day, just to watch the smoke fuse through mum and Chloris's ears," Corbina said as she smoothed down her hair into something that looked decent enough to leave the room with, honestly laughing at the ridiculous concept of Rodolphus trying to give up smoking. She had no doubts that some part of him might be determined to do so, but she also knew that she would not want to be on his bad side when his cravings began to irk at him at their typical wfifteen minute intervals. "And naturally; Do you think that I'd miss the fun?" With a wave of her wand, Corbina cleared the air of any lingering smoke scent -- that was by far one of the handiest spells she had ever learned -- and rose to her feet, moving towards the door. "After you, brother dear."