Rodolphus Lestrange (serpentstrange) wrote in fourteenshades, @ 2014-12-20 12:02:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | hugo weasley, rabastan lestrange |
Who: Hugo and Rabastan
What: Roommates meeting and sharing beers
When: Backdated to the day they both arrived, so the 9th (I'm slow -_-)
Where: They're house
Rating: Low except for some language
Bugger if this village wasn’t the weirdest and coolest place ever. After having it all explained to him, Hugo walked down the road toward what would be his new home according to the magical journal. House number four. When he found it, he let out a low whistle, impressed. It was a lot bigger than his postage stamp of a flat in Edinburgh.
Walking up to the door, Hugo thought about knocking, but realized that would be foolish. If this was to be his new home, he could show himself in. He tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. Which either meant the house was enchanted to unlock for him, or his housemate had left it that way. Figuring he would find out in a few moments, he opened the door and stepped in.
“Hello?” he called, poking his head around. Hugo hardly got far in his exploration of the house before he found the kitchen. His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten in a few hours and the sight of the icebox was a painful reminder.
----
Rabastan didn’t really need much explaining about this place, to be honest. The few snippets he had gotten seemed like something from a fairy tale, or a really made up drunken story, and he wasn’t about thinking on things like that. It required too much brain power that he wasn’t interested in using at that moment, or at least towards that kind of analysis. Seemed to him that if you tried anyway, you’d just end up with a headache.
So instead he wandered around the village for a bit, looking at things, taking it all in before heading to the house number he had been assigned. To be honest, that seemed to be the most appealing part of this entire ordeal, not living with his brother, his family, or his Slytherin housemates. But the downside was he still had a roommate. Ah well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, he supposed.
He had stopped off that the liquor store as well before his final destination, because obviously that was the most important shop to locate first off, and locate he did. Rab had a few galleons and sickles jingling around in his pocket, so he managed to grab enough beer to get him through the evening before finally walking in the front door of his supposed new home. It seemed no one was there, and that was completely fine with him. He wandered around a bit, found his room and discarded his shoes and jacket before heading into the kitchen and placing his beverages in the icebox, but not before popping one open and hopping up to sit on the counter. For a while he sat there, enjoying the quiet, the solitude, and most importantly his bubbly and deliciously hoppy beverage.
Though it wasn’t long before he heard the sounds of a door opening and the sounds of someone calling out. Hugo, or whatever the hell his name was, he supposed. Taking another quick drink he echoed, “Kitchen.” Perhaps he could have gotten up, introduced himself even, but what was the point? He was sure the other man would walk into the kitchen soon enough and Rabastan was quite comfortable with where he was.
When the other man eventually appeared, Rabastan took in his appearance, sizing him up for a moment before pointing towards the fridge with his open bottle. “Beer?”
----
Oh, right. There was a person in the room. He couldn’t go raiding the icebox. Hugo’s gaze shifted from the fridge to the counter where the dark-haired bloke was sitting. “Hey,” he said, also taking a few beats to appraise the other man. Rabastan Lestrange. The journal had told him his housemate’s name, which was the only reason why he knew it. He didn’t know Rabastan, but he was familiar with the name Lestrange.
You couldn’t be a Weasley and not know that your grandmother had wiped out Bellatrix Lestrange.
If this bloke was related to that Lestrange, he seemed… well, different. Hugo wasn’t sure what to make of him, but the word relaxed seemed most appropriate. Hugo was also keeping a casual air but he was also aware that it would only take five seconds for him to draw his wand from the small leather holster that rested against the hip of his jeans. He didn’t think he would need it. He hoped not.
He had been intent on the prospect of food, but the offer of beer was a good and promising alternative. “Sure,” Hugo agreed, helping himself to a bottle from the icebox. Rather than use his wand or a bottle opener, he popped off the top using the edge of the counter. It was a trick he had learned a few years back.
“I gather you know we’re housemates and I’m not a home invader, yeah?” That seemed like a good place to start. Hugo was right to the point.
---
Rabastan watched quietly from his perch on the counter how the other man reacted. Though it didn’t seem like it, he was rather good at classifying how others felt about him through body language. It seemed so far that Hugo was hesitant. Rab couldn’t really blame him for that though, he supposed. But even if he was hesitant, and probably thinking about going for his wand, he was still trying to feel out the situation in a calm manner. He had to smile at that. At least this Hugo wasn’t being a total asshat, immediately reaching for his wand and threatening him at the very discovery of his last name. Then again, he knew of the Weasleys, but he had never really heard of a Hugo. With people here from all different times, Merlin only knew when this one hailed from. Maybe he had absolutely no idea the family Rabastan stemmed from. Though he doubted it. His father and brother craved to have the family name known and feared by all.
As the other man popped off the top of his beer on the counter, Rabastan inclined the neck of his bottle in Hugo’s direction before saying, “Cheers,” and draining the rest of his bottle. Hopping down from his seat he tossed the bottle into the garbage and grabbed another out of the fridge before answering Hugo’s question.
“Yep, housemate, that’s me. Though in a strange sense, this still feels like a home invasion in some way. I mean let’s be realistic, we get dropped into some random ass village somewhere on the fuck knows timeline and we get handed a house without so much as a blink of an eye. Seems a little more than fucky, if you ask me. Waiting for the other shoe to drop any time now.” No, eloquence was not one of Rab’s strong suits. Cussing was in his blood.
“So then, where do you come from? I mean, I get earth and everything, but I guess I mean the proper question is when the hell you come from. You know, if you don’t mind me asking.” As he waited for the other man to answer, he used the underside of a large family ring on his finger that his mother had given him to easily pop off the cap on his bottle. His mother hated it when he did that, but he kind of didn’t care.
----
Hugo couldn’t hide a small grin or smother his chuckle. For someone who came from an uppity Pureblood line, Rabastan didn’t talk like a stuffed codger. He spoke more like the type of blokes he would hang around back home. It was unexpected, all that cursing, but it put him more at ease.
“Yeah, I’m glad someone else can relate. Everyone else seems to think this is bloody normal. I mean, it’s all right and all, wicked cool, but I’m also half-expecting to wake up in St. Mungo’s loonybin strapped down to a bed,” Hugo admitted, leaning back against one of the kitchen counters to make himself relatively comfortable.
“I don’t mind. Everyone’s been asking and it’s only right to ask.” Time was completely askew. He had just come from meeting Gellert bloody Grindelwald. Alive, free, and young. After that, there was little else to faze him. “I come from 2029, how about you?” Hugo asked.
----
“Heh, you’re not the only one. Wouldn’t be that surprising if I finally snapped, given where I was right before this,” he mentioned, before realizing he probably shouldn’t have said that. After all, there was talk of wars from this Rylan girl, and he had a feeling if that was the case, his family, if not Rabastan himself, probably took part. And since the Weasleys weren’t exactly of high standard in the eyes of the Purist families, they were probably in direct conflict. But at the very least, there was no Dark Mark burning on his arm quite yet. The village seemed to give him that bit of comfort, and he was half amused at the perfection of it’s timing.
Rabastan stared at him for a moment after Hugo’s answer. 2029? It seemed highly improbable, but then again just about everything in this village was improbable. So he took another long drink of his beer and just tried to roll with it. After all, everything was easier when one had beer.
“I’m from 1976,” he answered, tilting his head a bit and regarding Hugo. “Anything really that much different fifty some years in the future?” Honestly, he highly doubted it. Really, how much could the wizarding community really change? But perhaps that was his lack of belief in people more than anything else.
----
Maybe if Hugo had known Rabastan better he would have asked him where he was right before he was taken to the village. It certainly made him curious, but not curious enough to pry. He wasn’t the type to poke his nose where it didn’t belong unless he thought it warranted the effort.
Hearing that the man was from fifty-three years in the past was more interesting anyroad. Hugo’s eyebrows shot up expressively.
“Woah. You’re probably ancient or dead in my time, yeah?” Hugo had no filter, by the by. With or without beer, he was blunt. “Well, I don’t know. There’s no bloody war going on. That’s probably the biggest difference right there. Wizards are still pretty slow to change but there’s a little more Muggle things in use. Anything in particular you want to know?”
----
At Hugo's reaction, Rabastan couldn't help but slightly chuckle into his beer. "Hopefully I'm not dead, but I wouldn't be surprised," he said simple enough. After all, that Rylan girl had said something about two wars and Hugo had just mentioned it a second time. If he had been involved... well Rab had never been the luckiest person.
"I'm much on prying into things I shouldn't know, but you're the second one to mention wars. At the very least I should probably know what they were about, yeah?" He played up mild curiosity rather well, but on the inside he was craving an answer.
----
“You don’t know?” Hugo’s face was a mixture of surprise and confusion. The wars had ended before he was born, but they had shaped his whole life. And many others. It was hard to wrap his head around someone not knowing what the first and second wars were all about.
“Sorry - I guess they were after your time, yeah?” Hugo tipped some more beer down as he thought of how to best explain. “Some would say the wars were over blood purity for the most part. I don’t know. That was part of it, I guess. A dark wizard named Lord Voldemort wanted a new world order -- I’m not exactly sure what it would have looked like, but it seems to be that he wanted the wizarding world to be known and dominant over the Muggles. Maybe it sounded like a grand idea in theory, but he killed a lot of people trying to establish this new order. Some of my family included.”
Hugo studied Rabastan closely, wondering what he thought about that.
----
Rabastan listened to his new room mate explain the bits and pieces of the future he had asked for. The wars. Started by none other than his soon to be “master” Lord Voldemort. To be honest, he had figured as much before Hugo had even said anything, but it was another matter entirely to hear it out loud. Wars. Plural. Two of them. Probably heavy casualties and both sides, and that only included the magical blood. With the Dark Lord’s view on muggles, he knew there were probably tons more that were just innocent bystanders who had no ties to the magical world.
He did his best to keep his face a neutral mask, something he was rather excellent at, to be sure. Taking another drink of his beer, he looked over at his roommate as the other man admitted a lot of his family had died. Rabastan had the feeling he wasn’t the only one in the room who probably lost family during it, but he wasn’t about to say it. After all, if the war itself was started by Voldemort and his followers, that meant his family and most likely Rabastan himself had starred a major role in it all. He had a feeling anyone here who fought on the other side would have very little sympathy for a man like himself, or anyone he was related to who perished. After all, they would have been considered the side of evil, and well, they wouldn’t have been wrong.
“Sorry to hear all that, mate,” he said simply enough. He wouldn’t apologize though, because that wasn’t him yet. He wasn’t in his future, and therefore he refused to take the blame. “Always thought wars were pretty pointless myself. Death on both sides, with little gain. But then again, I’ve never been a very political person. That was all my dad and my brother.”
And that was that. “Appreciate you filling me in though, probably an important bit of information to know.” Not that he would say it out loud, but it made him question whether he wanted to know, particularly about his own part. The very thought made him nearly shudder, but instead he took another big drink.
“You hungry?”
-----
“Yeah, every war is full of pointless violence and rubbish,” Hugo said, shaking his head. “I’m no historian, but I’m glad I could fill you in on what I know.”
Rabastan’s neutral expression and admission that he was apolitical compared to his other family members was good enough for Hugo. He wasn’t poking for trouble or hurrying to make an enemy from nothing. He sincerely hoped that Rabastan Lestrange and he could tolerate each other if they were going to share a house in a magical village that they would be stuck in for… well, who knew how long?
No one seemed to understand the hows or whys of the place.
“I’m starving,” Hugo admitted. His stomach was growling and agreeing that it was no exaggeration. He drained the remainder of his beer and stood up straight. “Want to go find some food?”
----
Where his family would have gone and made instant enemies by opening their large mouths and spouting their personal and political viewpoints, Rabastan was a bit smarter than that. Not only did he realize that the people in this village vastly outnumbered any Death Eaters or purists, but they also most likely had a bad taste in their mouths when it came to the Lestrange name. Rab was no fool, and he most certainly wasn’t interested in fighting with or making enemies with the individuals here right off the bat, or at all really unless it absolutely necessary. Plus, his father and his brother were both conveniently missing which just made everything all the more easy, and in his opinion, far better as well.
So at Hugo’s admission of being hungry, he smiled a bit and drained the rest of his beverage as well, easily tossing it into the rubbish heap and pulling his beaten up leather jacket off the counter. “I am all for that plan,” he admitted, putting his coat on and motioning for Hugo to take the lead, even though he was pretty sure neither of them had any idea where they were going. “Think I heard something about a pub, and maybe a food court. I’m sure they take pity on new arrivals who are poor, wouldn’t you think?”
And with that he set off with his new roommate. This was going to be interesting, that was for sure. But Rabastan had the smallest inkling he was going to like it here, so long as a few chosen people never showed up..