Who: Rabastan Lestrange and Fabian Prewett What: Proper appreciation of birthday presents When: Evening of 30th May Where: Rabbit's flat Warnings: None significant, just language and a fair amount of innuendo.
Rabbit's flat was, as always, a battlefield of decorative tastes. When he'd first moved in he'd taken a convoluted but highly entertaining day at Ikea to fit himself out with the necessities, and left it at that. Ever since, various visitors had been taking it upon themselves to rectify the faults they perceived in the decor, leaving a mishmash of additional decorative and transfigurative spellwork that Rabbit found too comfortable or entertaining to bother changing back. At the moment, Clarissa's hand was the strongest and most recent influence, manifesting primarily in a multitude of throw pillows and swaths of diaphanous fabric criss-crossing the ceiling.
Rabbit himself, in old jeans and t-shirt, barefoot and two days unshaven, made a scruffy addition, but was characteristically careless and cheerful about it. "Come in, excavate yourself a place to sit." He waved a hand around the living space; on the television a trio of tackily-dressed Muggles were shouting and gesticulating at each other in muted silence.
"Merlin's arse, this place gets more cluttered every time I visit," Fabian said airily as he looked round. "Who's the latest imposition on your homely space?" He'd brought a bag with him with a stasis spell on it, with food containers inside. "I brought some things to nosh on--nothing so quality as the drink but you can't get what it deserves to-go, alas. And I'm not the sort to try to make it myself." He looked round for the kitchen and some nominal counter space so he could prepare the spread.
The kitchen remained utilitarian space, save only for the dozen little potted cacti lining the window sill. To one side of the sink the bottle of whiskey was waiting, glinting golden in the last of the late evening sunlight through the kitchen window. The pair of low-ball cut-crystal tumblers beside it were easily the most Lestrange thing currently visible in the flat.
Rabbit pulled up a stool on the outer side of the breakfast bar to keep a curious eye on things. "This--" He glanced over his shoulder, and his mouth twitched. "Would be Rissa. It's been a couple of weeks and I am just about over this wafty nonsense, to be honest."
"Can you imagine what she'd do with an estate?" Fabian made a mostly-mock grimace in Rabbit's direction as he began to unpack the bag, which turned out to contain boxes of carefully packed Osaka-style nigiri. He carefully transferred them to Rabbit's plain plates, which he personally approved of more than most of the rest of the decor, perhaps because he'd bought them to serve a previous birthday meal on. "Or is she just doing this for the pleasure of getting a rise out of you?"
Rabbit grinned at the layers on that one. "This number of cushions can't be serious, right? But," he allowed, with a tilt of his head and the twist of a smirk, "they have been fun." Rabbit watched the laying out of the little portions of food and, with no pause or apparently need to segue, added, "How do you cope when you can't get food that's all fancy and adorable?"
Fabian grinned at Rabbit as if the question were a compliment. "I'm a posh toff, or so I've been told. Food turns fancy and adorable at my mere approach. Now come on, it's not the quality that you'd get at the counter but this isn't the stuff you get at Tesco either. Let's indulge ourselves."
Rabbit snorted with laughter, but his grin was wide and easy. "You know me. Always up for indulgence. Is this a sitting properly or a sitting comfortably sort of indulgence?" He waved a hand back toward the pillow-piled sofa and armchairs, and glanced over his shoulder to the television. "I can even turn off The Only Way Is Essex."
"Turn off the telly. Unless it's got a music-only channel. That might do. It's not for watching, really." If Fabian was going to get dinged for being a posh twit by Rabbit, of all people, he was going to lean into the role at the very least. "And then we can indulge. A little whiskey, a little sushi, and a little light music. How gentlemen should enjoy themselves, and us too."
"Pfft, gentlemen." Rabbit rolled his eyes as he got down off his stool again and headed over to the electronics--well shielded to operate in the magical ambiance of the building. But the speed with which he had the trashy television off and music happening--a Rachmaninoff piano concerto--suggested the show was just that. Rabbit wasn't going to mess about with the bloke who brought him not just good grub but what gave every indication of being a seriously nice bottle of whiskey. (He'd probably play nice for that even if it weren't Fabian.)
Speaking of... he came back to lean across the counter and grab the bottle and glasses. "Come lounge with me," he ordered. "Too much propriety and I break out in a rash." As though Fabian hadn't been at the same table for formal dinners that Rabbit couldn't get out of and had to behave at.
"Yeah yeah yeah," Fabian grumbled as he brought the plate around with the sushi carefully arranged in little handsome diagonal lines. "Ocean trout and king salmon. The good stuff. No fake krab here." But in a concession of his own to the desired level of casualness, he did kick off his shoes and settle in carefully among the cushions and veils.
Rabbit, in turn, shoved and wedged and piled the pillows with casual practice until he had a mound to rest his feet on and had turned his end of the couch into a suitable nest. He set the whiskey and glasses out of idle kicking distance on the coffee table, and poured them each a couple fingers worth. "Possibly just as well you didn't get this to me on the day," he noted, handing one glass to Fabian and wafting the other under his nose. "I was in no fit state to appreciate this."
"For once the delays of portkey post serve our purposes. To all things that serve our purposes, and to the devil with the rest." Fabian raised his glass to Rabbit and waited for him to drink the toast before taking his sip. It was a fine whiskey, of course, but he wanted to concentrate on Rabbit's enjoyment before his own.
The toasts this birthday had definitely been interesting. Rabbit hoped it was all indicative of an interesting year to follow.
And this whiskey was a cracking start. Rabbit inhaled deeply over the glass before he sipped--and the nose was so rich and complex he could have lingered a lot longer. Plenty of time to consider it later; he wanted to know how the taste matched up. Rabbit took a sip, eyes fluttering closed just a moment as the beautiful burnished sting of it unfurled across his tongue. "Lovely," he declared, opening his eyes again, as the long finish lingered. "You have spoiled me."
Fabian's lips curled into a slow smile, and then he enjoyed his own swallow from the crystal tumblr. "It takes thirty years to make a man, and thirty years to make a good whiskey too. Now we see what we're going to do with it."
He offered the plate of sushi to Rabbit, as well. "No soy, just take it straight."
Rabbit carefully picked up one of the delicate little blocks. They looked rather like the dinky little sandwiches his mother ordered when she was getting belligerently fancy with her high tea, and proved--when he popped it in his mouth--to be just as complexly, if rather differently, flavoured. It twined delightfully with the lingering taste of the whiskey, and Rabbit made a noise not quite of surprise--he hardly expected any less than delicious from Fabian at this point--but definitely of approval.
Fabian, who was also enjoying the sushi, grinned in a way that crinkled the corner of his eyes: an expression of satisfaction, both at the quality of the food and drink and the delight Rabbit was taking in it. He raised his glass to the chef, who had been compensated well and tipped nicely on top of that for his services. "Calling this a success, then?"
"Call it a fucking triumph," Rabbit countered, smiling easily as he lounged back on his cushions. "If you were a woman, I'd marry you. Well." He paused in lifting his glass for another sip, or at least another sniff of that amazing aroma, and temporised. "I'd seriously consider it."
Fabian snorted. "If I were a woman, our parents would already have made that deal or your father would have forbidden it. Or vice versa, if you were the girl. Anyroad, I'm glad it's a success. I know Rodolphus thinks of you this time of year but especially this year, with everything so complicated and everyone busy with their own agenda, it seemed the right time for someone to indulge you. So I elected myself."
"And I am well indulged." Rabbit took a long sip of his whiskey, watching Fabian consideringly over the edge of the glass. "Thank you," he added. "For the thought as much as the whiskey, though seriously, this is incredible." He lifted the glass to admire the colour. "Things are certainly different from how I thought they'd be this time last year. Not necessarily for the worse, of course."
"The war being over opens up a lot of options. And, so, I daresay, does your father's death. I'm sorry for--I know it's got to be upsetting and it's always a bit--frightening, even, when someone in your family who's nominally responsible for things dies--and that I'm sorry for, but I know he's always been cruel to you and never respected your intelligence and skills as he ought. And I know Rodolphus has a better grasp of your virtues, and how to use them. So in that respect there's not much of a loss to offer condolences for." Of love, Fabian chose not to speak, though he thought he'd addressed it between the lines adequately for Rabbit to know what he meant. And instead of sympathy, he raised his glass and offered a silent tribute instead, knowing Rabbit would understand him well enough.
Rabbit glanced down at his whiskey, back up again when he was less in danger of giving away anything he hadn't fully considered. "I'm still figuring out what it all means," he admitted. "What's possible now. I'm sure I'm not alone in that." One corner of his mouth turned, self-deprecating; he was hardly going to get into the details of how he was feeling even less inclined than usual to duck his head and act meekly, not even with Fabian.
"Assuming it's actually over. Could be someone putting up Dark Marks for kicks, though." That Fabian would only be half surprised if it was Rabbit wasn't something he was going to admit either. "But assuming it actually is over--that You Know Who is actually not coming back--a lot of possibilities are open right now that may not be later." He considered his alcohol and decided on another bite of sushi, because the best route in a negotiation was sometimes silence and letting the other bloke sweat it out. Not that this was a negotiation, exactly, but there was something it had in common with one.
Rabbit didn't actually smirk at all at Fabian's comment about Dark Marks, which just showed that despite anything his mother had to say, he could make an effort when it mattered. Instead, he lifted a curious eyebrow, and asked, "Possibilities?"
Fabian stopped contemplating his whiskey and started openly contemplating Rabbit. "How frankly do you mind me talking? About--family matters. Yours and mine."
Rabbit considered that, leaning over to snag another bit of sushi before he said, "I don't shrink from a little honesty now and then. Keeps everyone on their toes." Truth be told--if they were being frank--he was very curious now.
"Remember as I say this that I'm a solicitor and family matters--" Fabian's smile grew more crooked "--are my bread and butter. I'm also a younger son and unless something happens to Gideon, may all the powers forbid--" Fabian made a warding gesture with his off hand "--I'm on my own in certain respects. I'll never want for a place to lay my head or starve in the street, but the sort of advancement I would have gone for if I'd stayed in the Aurors is closed to me now, and I did it to myself." Fabian snorted with rueful amusement, and lifted his glass to his own stupidity, and drank. "I'm grateful and I love Gideon, don't get me wrong. Plus he's plenty competent to do the needful, which is more than we can say for a lot of our peers.
"And you're in something of the same boat, though probably actually a bit worse off than I am even without your father. Rodolphus would never abandon you either--" which was more than they could probably have said for Corvus-- "but, and here's where I don't mean to offend, but honestly, given that Bellatrix keeps not producing a nephew and everybody knows she had a miscarriage, you might get pressed into stud service. Sooner rather than later, if we're in peacetime."
Rabbit couldn't--or didn't--control his wince at that. "Merlin," he muttered, and had another slug of his whiskey--which was far too good to be applied medicinally, but oh well. And of course Bellatrix hadn't miscarried, but it also couldn't be denied that that particular duty was far down her list of priorities, especially right now. So yes, Fabian was probably right; Rabbit shot him a slightly bruised look. "I assume there's a point to this dark path you're skipping merrily down?"
Fabian leaned in. "We don't have to is what I'm saying."
Fabian ran a good line; Rabbit covered the little hopeful leap of his heart with a grin too wide to be sincere. "Is this you finally asking me to run away with you? Yes, darling, anywhere."
The grin that accompanied Fabian's laugh was the rare genuine article. "I don't know that either one of us wants to go so far as to run away quite yet. But," he agreed, still smiling, "There are advantages to presenting, as it were, an allied front. Neither one of us has anyplace to be or anything to do just yet. Let's take advantage of that freedom and see what comes of it, is what I'm saying."
Rabbit vaguely wished he had nowhere to be and nothing to do; he seemed to have a dozen things on simmer these days and dark suspicions about what Rodolphus was going to turn up next. But the far more pertinent point was, "I'm obviously all in favour of taking advantage, but just what do you have in mind?"
"I don't know yet," Fabian had to admit. "But I know I'll figure it out once we see how the landscape shifts--and--" he met Rabbit's gaze as best he could "--I know I want you there to figure it out with me."
Rabbit should definitely look away, because any skerrick of what he was feeling right now might be too much, but he didn't. Should smirk, like this was a fine game they could play on everyone, but he suspected it was more just a smile.
He certainly should keep this at arm's length. Whatever came next in the roiling scrum that was the Death Eaters now... well, he didn't want to pull Fabian into that, didn't want too many strings tied to him if he needed to move fast.
And yet. This was Fabian. (So many ways he could rationalise it: he could be a wildly useful ally or a very thorny problem and either way it was better to keep him close. Not even lies. The best lies weren't. But the bottom line was: this was Fabian.)
"All right," Rabbit said, simply and nothing like at the same time, and felt his smile widen a little.
"All right, then," Fabian agreed, his own smile shifting in response to Rabbit's. He was a solicitor, and knew better than to say much more than 'yes' when he was getting what he wanted. "To a brighter future," he added, raising his glass, "in which we get our advantage, and use it as we please."