#thread:rabastan

[xantoninxdolohovx]

Who:@r-lestrcnge Where: the lair of a traitor It was something to be followed, but it meant that they were on the right track. Luckily young Rabastan had managed to distract their tail long enough Dolohov could circle around trap the person between them.  He almost wished he smoked for moments like this settling for drawing his wand. “I will give you one chance to escape, duel my friend there and win, try anything else and we’ll pull what we want out of you piece by piece.” Just in case he began casting an anti-disapparition jinx to make sure neither of them tried to run from the fight.  He left the rest to Rab while he secured the perimeter with a few more spells to make sure no one interceded and gave a stare that almost dared them to try and rush past him.

[weirdxkitty]

It was exhausting - playing songs that weren't hers and watching what she said and how she acted. It came with the territory, taking on a gig like this, and she wanted to respect the bride and groom, but she would be happy to go back to normal. She had taken a quick break, trying to make her way to the bar but having a hard time making it there.

She quite literally bumped into someone as she tried to dodge another wedding guest - reaching out to grab their elbow as if to steady them. "I'm so sorry -" she started, before realizing it was Rabastan. "We've got to stop meeting this way, Rabbit."

@r-lestrxnge

[siriblk]

It had been a long - exhilarating, but long - day and Sirius was looking forward to falling into the rather large bed in his rental house. He had won all of his matches and was moving on, and normally he would go out with the rest of the duelists (precisely why he stayed where the circuit took him instead of apparating home - he liked the travel aspect of it) but he felt more like having a butterbeer and watching bad muggle reality TV.

He hadn’t anticipated, however, having to place a call into the ministry for the small, rather suspicious item tucked into the side of his mattress. He wasn’t a curse breaker, but he knew a cursed object when he saw one. Sirius was sat on the stoop outside, a bloody handkerchief held to his nose (the only damage the thing had managed before he noticed) as one of the last people he ever wanted to see, let alone require the help of, strode up the path. “Rabastan Lestrange?” He called out, frowning slightly.

@r-lestrxnge

[xantoninxdolohovx]

"To loyalty." Antonin raised his glass in turn, taking a drink and matching Rabastan’s gaze so as not to sully the toast.  “Though I wish it wasn’t so rare a thing that it’s health had to be toasted by us.” “You know your brother is an old friend of mine, and I would trust him with my life, his wife seems interesting, I’ve only met her cursorily, but loyal enough.  Onto more interesting subjects, we’ve discussed love, and death, what is left but money?   Any interesting investments lately.  Mine have been hit or miss, at least the interesting ones.  Be careful betting on quidditch is all I’ll say.”  He shook his head thinking of lost potential galleons.

“Or perhaps exotic creatures?  I’ve heard menageries are a sound investment these days at least as far as price is concerned, though the things themselves can be a bit unstable, and sentiment is split over the qualifying of them, interesting properties to some, though not really my area of expertise mucking magical stables.  Perhaps I’ve finally found something I would delegate to house elves, creatures in their own right aren’t they?”  He was quiet, but something dawned on him slowly and unsettlingly.  “I swear conversations with you and your brother lately seem to always settle on them, if I didn’t know any better I would swear he put you up to it.”

Attuned to Antonin's spell, Rabastan watched him speak despite the clarity of his softly murmured words. He respected his wish to speak about this elsewhere, though he did not fear being overheard. There were other methods to ensure privacy. But he did not agree with Antonin's assessment of Rodolphus and Bellatrix. Rabastan would trust none more greatly. They were efficient and skilled, merciless and swift. But they would fulfil the Dark Lord's orders, no matter how greatly they wished to indulge in personal vengeance. If they were required to capture but not kill, then that is precisely what they would do. He resolved to speak with them nonetheless, though he could not yet reveal the scheme's full details.

Ignoring the vague dizziness until it passed, he reached for another sweet snack and faintly exhaled, amused. "I am not interested in Bella's hobbies. But she is worthy of the Lestrange name, and for that I care greatly. She and Rodolphus are strong together." In truth, he was uninterested in their marital dynamics. As long as Rodolphus was content, all was well.

"That might be the most pertinent thing you've said all night, Dolohov." Tilting his glass, he toasted. "To loyalty."

[weirdxkitty]

This was exactly the stuffy type of event that Kitty tended to avoid, at least as herself. Another pureblooded, incestual, elbow rubber that her mom had dragged her to. And what was worse, people were calling her Suzy. At least the food was good. Well, the food was decent - the bar was good.

She had meandered around and now found herself near the balcony, which sounded perfect: some fresh air and a little quiet. But she surprisingly found someone already out there, and she threw her hands in the air in excitement. "Rabbit!" She called, grin widening at the glances she got from the few people within earshot. "My biggest fan." Kitty gushed, rearranging her features to look more like herself so he might recognize her.

@r-lestrxnge

[ssnap]

Severus could have cursed his own tongue. If he had known it was Rabastan he'd have, for once, taken the higher road and simply stayed quiet, pretending not to notice, as he largely disliked the man. But alas, here they were. His lips nearly disappeared they became such a thin line, and he took a slight step backward.

"Of course." He replied, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn't that he was intimidated by Rabastan - not exactly. He had just had enough confrontation to last a lifetime, and wanted to take the quickest exit to this conversation as he could find. "I'm surprised you'd want to dirty the soles of your shoes on a traitor's cloak." The Lestranges were, after all, haughty enough for such a thing.

This wasn't exactly Severus' sort of event, but he had to admit it was better than others he had unfortunately been a part of over the years at his friend's behest. The displays were an interesting sort of magic - and some, not actually magic at all. He found the flowers of particular interest, and was browsing a small booth to see if there were any seeds available.

Somebody stepped on the hem of his cloak and he pulled it harshly from beneath them, at the considerable risk of toppling them - he sort of hoped he did. "I suppose since I am not making a spectacle of myself, I've turned invisible?" He asked, voice soft.

[rit4skeeter]

She hmphed slightly at his words but otherwise accepted it. You couldn’t force anyone to be well-read, after all. His tone - completely lost on her. She turned to look at him, intrigued, as he went on. Rita knew Rabastan Lestrange. Well, not personally, but Rita made it a point to know everyone of note. But she knew only snippets of the man. So he had no interest in Armando Dippet, but Dumbledore… well, it just told her what she already figured. Her next book would be even more successful. “Thank you, that’s what I said!” She agreed, half enthusiastic, half exasperated. “You wouldn’t believe the pushback from his little followers.” Her nose scrunched just a bit as a few particular people came to mind. “If he’s so great, what are they so afraid of?” She realized now she was mostly just talking for her own benefit, so she cleared her throat before she went off on too much of a tangent. “I’m not so convinced.”

She shook herself slightly as she came out of the bathroom. She had been flying around for longer than usual, it was harder than one might think to switch between wings and arms. Fluffing her hair, she made her way back over to the main walkway of the Alley, heels tapping along the stones in a steady rhythm as she walked. 

Rita stopped to glance in the window at Flourish and Blott’s - making sure they hadn’t taken her book out of the main display. She smiled as she saw it, satisfied.  Armando Dippet: Master or Moron? A small, satisfied sigh escaped her. “What do you think of a sequel?” She asked the person next to her, tapping her chin. Talking to herself more than anyone, really. “No one’s come out with a good piece on Dumbledore yet. I’m sure there’s loads to be dug up on him.”

[xantoninxdolohovx]

"It is answer enough, and don't worry for her, she won't die, won't remember anything that has happened if things go well. Everything is hypothetical until we have the information about the house. I have given you enough I think to get started. Perhaps a signal, so if you don’t hear from me you can take up the mission. We won’t need to use it but if I only planned for certainties I would be a poor duelist and a worse wizard. Something simple an add in the prophet through a trusted source, nothing that will raise an eyebrow, but look for personal ads about socks, then you can expect to meet and trade information. No one should care about our whereabouts, but in case either of us is followed we’ll meet to share a drink at the cauldron, exchange quidditch betting forms, then we can start on the more important work."

He thought for a moment pushing the plate back. “Any questions? You don’t have much to do but wait and watch so far, but doing nothing quietly is its own test with tasks like this.” He leaned closer. “You can’t let the blood of traitors weigh on your mind no matter how merciful.” He didn’t mind taking on the darker tasks and delegating the magical curse work. A strong hand working with a deft one was often better for operations like this. Everyone had their uses and it was good the boy didn’t have notions beyond his.

“This was a good meeting, you show promise, and you’ll go far if you’re half as competent as you seem. The bending, the breaking, then the burning, then the hardest part lying low until we are needed again, a worse kind of waiting since we aren’t the ones to call ourselves to action” He chuckled pushing his chair back, but not yet standing until the other man had a chance to address anything he might have missed. He doubted this was the case, but it paid to have an open ear and mind.

"I prefer not to involve too many others until the day itself. As you say, the margin for error is great. It is a risk that we should take ourselves." Rabastan disliked the idea of delegating essential magic to others. He disliked delegation at all, unless for utterly trivial tasks. Preferring to maintain control, he did not easily hand complexities to others. If anything were to go wrong, he would rather be held accountable for his personal actions, rather than for the actions of someone he had foolishly trusted; the latter would be an error far worse to bear. "But this is your part of the task. I will not interfere with your decision, unless you would somehow like my assistance." Pausing a moment, he poured another cup of coffee. "Alecto is skilled with memory charms. Perhaps she would have advice." He did not care for her torturous antics, but he knew how often she indulged and the methods she had refined to conceal her pleasures.

Almost laughing at Antonin's quasi-fatherly advice, Rabastan looked up with a wryly mirthful smile. "I'm touched by your concern for my wellbeing, Antonin." He did chuckle then, though it was amiable and without judgement. "I do not detest it, but neither do I take sadistic pleasure in it. I find joy in righting the wrongs that have been done against us, but it is caused by moving closer to our goal and for reinstating justice. If there is some selfish by-product, some person who has particularly wronged us, upon whom I can inflict a personal vengeance - all the better. But it is not my main motivation. Does that answer your question well enough?"

He unfolded the paper, noting the name before setting it alight. Ashes fell harmlessly onto the pristine tablecloth before vanishing. His history with the witch was brief and cruel. He would have preferred to use someone of lesser blood, but she had put herself into this danger through her own choices. "Such a pity to waste a pretty face and worthy blood." It was an off-handed musing, and one that he had spoken to the woman herself, in another form at another time. "She works against us, indeed. I confirm it. She is a kind and merciful soul. You may use that to your advantage."

[siriblk]

Sirius had to admit - he was enjoying this more than he probably should have been. Who would have thought he'd ever be able to say such a thing in the presence of Rabastan Lestrange, of all people. But as far as the Lestranges went, in his opinion, Rabastan was by far the least insane. He glanced over at the group of girls with a cheeky little grin, but tucked the flower behind his own ear instead of taking the suggestion - he didn't want any of them to actually get the wrong idea, after all, and start following him around or something. "My friend," he made sure to glance at Rabastan with an impish grin as he said the word. "Is Mr. Kerr, but all his friends call him Wayne." Sirius winked, holding back a laugh.

"Oh, come on Lestrange. You at least like that I made you a little bit of money, don't you?" He reasoned, as if bartering with the man. "And the flower will soften up those sharp cheekbones you've got, the ladies -" He got cut off as a group approached, just close enough that they were hard to ignore, and very clearly here for Sirius. After all, they certainly wouldn't be here for Rabastan. He had to hold in a chuckle at the other man's face, but his smile did grow a bit wider - honestly, it didn't happen that often, but he didn't think he'd be able to convince him of that. "See? They heard about the flower."

[ssnap]

Had he noticed it was Rabsatan before he made the comment, it may have stayed his tongue. But Severus was not a man known for his patience, a fact that pained him at the moment. “I know better than that, Lestrange.” The tension was thick in his voice, although his tone barely changed. He had once sought the man’s approval, and now he knew he was likely on quite the opposite list. Severus held his gaze for just a moment before returning his eyes to the crowd, but watched him from the corner of his eye - he was smarter than to completely turn his attention away, although he doubted a public Quidditch match would be the place Rabastan chose to make a move. “Don’t you have some important business to attend to?” He drawled, the biting sarcasm thinly veiled.

He pulled his cloak a bit tighter around him - it was almost too warm for one, but Severus was more comfortable a bit hot than feeling like he was missing something. He glared at some raucous passerby, wondering not for the first time, why he had come. There was supposed to be an interesting new product at one of the vendors - he was thinking now he should just wait to see it next week. He stopped against the brick wall of the nearest shop, getting out of the way of the crowd when with a sigh, someone stepped on his foot anyway. “Do you mind?” He asked pointedly, voice only raised loud enough for the person in front of him to hear.

[xantoninxdolohovx]

Antonin looked around and made a quick movement pointing his wand at Rabastan’s ears. From then on he spoke in only a whisper, but it was clear as day even over the somewhat louder sounds coming from around them.

“I find your selection adequate for now since the main work when we need them will be dueling and breaking wizards, they are all capable when their mind is put to a task. I wonder though if they will relish in the destruction of specific aurors too much. Don’t take me wrong, I don’t doubt their dedication, but it takes a specific mind to put zealousness into check during the heat of battle, we must watch them to make sure no one dies if captured before we have a chance to question them if they are captured, and no one escapes. Kill or incapacitate, but do both efficiently. We shouldn’t speak more of this here.”

He moved his wand quickly away and Rab’s hearing went back to normal though he had a bit of a lightheaded sensation. “Yes your sister in law has interesting hobbies, ask her about them at your own peril, but I do think her and Rod make an interesting pair.” He looked over the snacks taking something for himself only speaking once he had washed it down with a bit more drink.

“Worse, better it’s all relative, who can judge another person’s family. What matters is how close you are, how much you stay together beyond the fights small and big, whether it’s family found, bound or born. This kind of loyalty and understanding is important as in any relationship worth having.”

"I think you've succeeded with that balance." Antonin made a fair point. Rabastan's goals were tunnel-visioned. His determination was unlikely to waver once fixed upon an aim. He believed he was adaptable and cold-minded enough to avoid the traps, as Antonin put them. But while he lacked nuanced emotions, his deepest feelings burned with a fury that was not easily extinguished. He, too, had found himself staring into pits over the years, thrown by the intensity of his own sentiments, whether for good or bad. These moments were inconvenient. He scorned them, learned from them, and resolved never to tolerate them again.

The more Dolohov spoke, the more Rabastan paid attention. This conversation was becoming entertaining to a level that he would never have anticipated. It was quite making his day. So he poured himself another drink and permitted Antonin to reveal his family dynamic, a look of mirthful intrigue raking his expression. "Your parents are worse than mine," he concluded bluntly. "Though I must say, it would be extremely entertaining if my parents wanted to duel the witches chosen for me lately. It would put a stop to their designs much more efficiently than my usual methods." The poor women wouldn't stand a chance.

"It is their own business, indeed. But I would judge them for it nonetheless." As the other wizard attending to his drink, Rabastan turned and summoned some snacks to the table. Heedlessly, he slid the platter between them, examining the contents before taking the best option for himself.

"I've been glad to see that you haven't yet needed to sell your socks." Raising his eyes again, he laughed wickedly. The concept had been so absurd, yet so incredibly practical. It had given him an inordinate amount of joy to read the Prophet each morning, wondering if Dolohov's socks might make an appearance. "How is your plan progressing? I must speak with Emmeline, and I have considered who could join us on the ground. Rodolphus and Bellatrix are essential. I will ask them, though I will not yet reveal details."

[xantoninxdolohovx]

“Not for myself. Having some tools or allies with a dogged pursuit of something can serve, but I like to be adaptable in my strategies and dedication. It’s the same problem anger, depression, love, ambition, lust, any emotion really when focused on one thing they become a trap or can if not properly managed. Have I fallen into this pit? Perhaps a time or two but endeavoring to be cold enough not to be manipulated easily, but not appear so outwardly, this is the balance I crave.”

He thought on the topic rubbing his cheek before speaking again. “It depends on the duels, how public they are, their purpose. Some have no rules beyond the first to fall or surrender is the loser, some have a wager attached, some are official with points, others with seconds and turns taken even judges. The ones my parents put me through are a mix. Consistency is a crutch of the weak minded. Dependence on this is another thing to be manipulated, but sparingly of course like any feint or weapon the more it’s used the more others can prepare for it. Death? I think they would avoid killing a suitor that they approved of or with enough social standing to merit repercussions. Pain, humiliation, facing their own lack of skill and disapproval are the main things they might face. They are sometimes generous, as letting someone pick their own trial whether it is the challenge of a duel, besting a great magical beast, or a display of skill, though every action is judged whether successful or not. Of course this is just my speculation. They do not tell me how they judge things, they just allow me to watch and judge for myself. First and last judge as I could challenge them as well if I deemed someone worthy of the cause. So far very few have merited an introduction, as even those whose company I have enjoyed I didn’t desire such a formal attachment to.” “It is as you said some magic can not be undone by spell-work.” Antonin laughed at his adulterous insinuations. “I think if someone is unhappy enough to seek solace in the arms of another it’s their own business, that said I haven't sought out the ire that breaking such carefully planned pairings would bring, but who knows it’s one way to assure a duel, but that kind of thing brings the hate of a whole family and an expectation to marry the bride. Tradition is its own beast at times. What better weapon than a good drink” He took a long drought from his own glass smirking at Rabastan.

"You don't believe in single-minded commitment?" The question was blunt, lacking judgement and backed merely by a desire for fact. Loyalty was the most important requisite to Rabastan. It was followed closely by tradition. So while he did not especially care for monogamy, he would follow the rules without a second thought. If they did not uphold rules, they would become animals - or worse, like lower-blooded society. Only specific circumstances would persuade him to diverge, the trust and awareness of his partner being one of them.

Aside from wanting to make Antonin uncomfortable, Rabastan was not sure what else he'd expected - certainly not to hear that the Dolohovs put his matches through some kind of gladiator-style trials to determine their worth. He couldn't help but laugh, completely thrilled by the discovery. "What are the rules of these duels, Antonin? Do your suitors risk death by meeting your parents?" At least it was a fool-proof way to ascertain someone's dedication. He could not imagine someone persevering without having a genuine interest.

"Some magic cannot be undone by spell-work. I don't know enough about marriage bonds to attempt it, but I would assume they work in the same way as most vows." Ancient magics should not be underestimated. There were ties that held strong through blood, sacrifice and commitment. The Dark Lord understood this, and Rabastan respected it too, though his understanding of such things was limited. "Breaking them with my natural charm, on the other hand-" Raising his glass to his lips, he took a languid sip, fixing his stare sharply on the other man over the top. "I'm sure I could do that, if I put my mind to it." He had never tried and he never would. His principles forbade it.

[xantoninxdolohovx]

“I’m ready.  We’ll just apparate to your estate, stash him and that will be the end of it for a while. We can decide what to do with him there.  Whether to have him show up dead after, disappear, or show up a bit confused.  Either way we need to tie up the loose end that’s the attack.  Also figure out if he fits for someone who could and would overpower Hestia. Depending on what we find will colour how we move forward.” Antonin bent and lifted the sleeping and restrained man preparing to apparate.  The rest of the work would be simply restraining the man, possibly questioning him.  If he had linked them to the article that begged its own questions was someone talking or had he been snooping either way these were questions best asked in private. He looked at Rabastan unsure of how he felt about the recent developments, before deciding they were ultimately unimportant to their mission or at least wouldn’t be significant impediments.  He thought of the man and Rabastan’s eagerness to kill him how quickly he had been disabled and would be bundled off to a dungeon. Was that truly the easier solution, was he the one delighting too much in capture, subterfuge and possibly torture.  Maybe that is why he wondered at the objectivity of Bella and Rabastan.  His mind started to drift wondering if anything more could be done with the wizard, what other factors might be important. It was a few moments before he realized he was just standing there in silence with the wards dropped.  He shared a silent look with Rabastan before apparating himself and the man away preparing himself for the walk into Rabastan’s estate.

"I would prefer to kill him, Antonin." The statement was blunt and lacked emotion. Rabastan simply looked from the unconscious wizard to the one standing very much alive and well beside him. These intricate methods went far beyond his usual simplicity. It was true that weaving webs created more strands that were difficult to follow. But it also encouraged the possibility for danger and error. To Rabastan, it would be far better to end this wizard's life and exploit his death for their purpose. "You have his hair and we have his wand. With those things, he could still attack Hestia - with a little help from the Polyjuice Potion, of course. I don't know exactly how the trace works, but use his wand a few times elsewhere and perhaps it will seem as though he's still alive. I say we should discover his identity quickly, and then we should kill him."

It was all he would say on the matter. Having voiced his opinion, he would inevitably follow Antonin's lead. Dolohov was more senior and more experienced, even if only by a few years. Rabastan knew his place. He accepted it and did not stray from his boundaries unless greatly necessary.

"Let us think on it. Meanwhile, yes, I will house him. My townhouse is vacant but the wards remain in place." He paused, considering whether he truly wished to bring this unknown wizard into his new home. It was a fleeting doubt that lasted but a second, yet it had emerged nonetheless and he almost felt derailed by it. Alecto was more than capable of looking after herself, pregnant or not. "Or we keep him in my new home. Alecto has a dungeon. I must say, it's better than the last one."

Waving his wand, he bound the unconscious man with another rope - this time simply strong and functional, merely for ease of transportation. Under Dolohov's sleep spell, there was no need for anything further. But he levitated the man again, gripping his arm and standing poised to remove his enchantments from around them.

"Are you ready?"

[xantoninxdolohovx]

“Prospective, or middle man I think.” Antonin went over to the man, taking out his wand, making sure the man wouldn’t wake up auy time soon before continuing to talk. He took out a bit of paper and a small writing implement trying to capture the man’s face. “Probably thought it was a dead drop and he could get something from us, blackmail if nothing else, there is a war on. It’s one problem with using methods such as mine, but I really don’t mind as I rarely come out worse from such an encounter, and the few times I have, well it pays to have friends you can call upon when the need arises.” He looked to the heap that was once a man. “If nothing else this should serve to teach you that people who remain neutral need to be watched as much as anyone else.”

He looked through the man’s coat, pocketing a coin purse and a copy of the ad. “He was traveling light. Didn’t want to be identified, but I have a few resources. He attacked us, that will make it easier to look into who he might be without triggering too many alarm bells the wrong way. Could make things easier, but we’ll have to keep him someplace no one will come looking or could find him at an inopportune minute. I’m thinking he might be the one to make the attack on poor Hestia. It’s always good to do my duty for the ministry and put a dangerous wizard off the street.” His smile was predatory as he looked down at the sleeping man.

“What do you think Rabasthan, it doesn’t matter who he was. He’s a scape goat that’s fallen into our laps. We’ll get him to talk eventually one way or another.” Getting the man to wherever they would put him wouldn’t be too hard. No, the hard part would be getting Rabastan to house him, and giving him free access. Well worst case he could burn one of the less attached apartments. It was about time he went looking for someplace new. Maybe more accessible a believable flat.

“So do you have room for him or some dungeon in that manor of yours. It doesn’t have to be as elaborate as Alectos, but a secure place we can keep him until we’ve done the delicate work of extracting and reshaping his memories.” He looked around not seeing anyone, but still preferring a more secluded location. Besides it had been a while since he’d visited Rabastan’s manor. “No one seems to be around yet, but I would like to have a safe place to apparate to once we pull down the wards.”

Were it not for his naturally impassive personality, Rabastan could have snorted at the explanation. As much as he'd loved Antonin's novel communication method, it had been convoluted. Now, they were paying the price. Dolohov seemed to prefer complicated routes. Rabastan always opted for the most straightforward, seeking results with maximum efficiency and minimum fuss. This incident illustrated the strength in his usual methods, but he cared little for placing blame and would not point out that the sock idea - as amusing as it was - had been Dolohov's inspiration.

As his comrade toyed with the man, Rabastan mulled upon their options. They filtered through his brain like a series of pathways, each one suggesting outcomes that were either beneficial or risked further hazards. He was lightly distracted by Dolohov plucking out their victim's hair. There could be only one purpose for the action. Rabastan narrowed his eyes, trying to ascertain why Antonin might want to adopt this wizard's identity. It was a fleeting thought, wiped away by the overly attentive study of his own cloak before Antonin placed a hand to his shoulder. God only knew what was going through Dolohov's twisted head. He decided to ask him about it later, already having concluded that the reasons might be indecipherable.

The man was in no position to barter. But Rabastan lowered the spell, permitting him to stand on his feet though the rope still remained firm around his figure, now with less intensity. A part-concession would be better than total refusal or agreement, as it would give the man hope. It was remarkable how powerful that emotion could be. People would do all kinds of things for love of hope. It was why he fought this war, after all. It was why he would sacrifice himself willingly and without regret; for hope of a better future.

"It is unusual to desire used socks," he indicated pointedly, turning his stare to the meet the wizard's. "Why did you follow? Do not lie. Then I will release you and we can continue conversing like civilised wizards." Perhaps, though the look on the other man's face told him that he had no intention of speaking reasonably. He seemed to battle for words, as though scrambling to decide whether defiance would be worth the risk. Apparently, it was.

"Let me down!" he demanded, then with an almighty surge, he wrenched himself free of the rope and made a run for it. Rabastan could have recaptured him, but it seemed more pertinent to let him flee then face a punishment afterwards.

"That went well," he said wryly to Antonin, regarding the man's departing figure as it rushed hurriedly towards the impenetrable spell work. He knew what would happen. Yet the result was still more thrilling than anything else that had happened thus far. The wizard collided with the enchantments, smashing face first into the invisible wall. He flew backwards spectacularly, an electrical current launching between his flesh and the spells like a dull lightning. Then he landed in a heap and Rabastan could not help but openly laugh. "Perhaps he really did just want your socks. I do not think he's an auror, unless their standards have gone severely downhill."

[xantoninxdolohovx]

“Of course, though single minded commitment only gets you so far, wherever you and the newly weds find your happiness though I guess.”  He pondered the topic buying himself time as he took some refreshments from the tray. He looked around taking into account the privacy, at least as much as could be expected at such an event and the routes of egress, though he imagined some of them must be guarded by more of those posh turkeys the groom loved so much. “I do agree with your tactical assessment of this position, and at least we won’t have to worry about supplies.” He hesitated to talk about his own philosophy, but if not at this kind of event then when was one supposed to break out the talk between large and small. “Marriage is a tricky thing for me as for any of us with grand families.  I think my parents are more accepting than most, but they have tests of their own. Someone who could beat one or both of my parents in a duel would probably make a good impression.  I’ve started having to train them myself before bringing them home.  I swear some days I don’t know if I’m recruiting someone. More promising duelists than you would think, it’s good to keep in practice, but there are many lost arts that should be more commonplace. “You’re a curse breaker who likes a challenge, but I bet you’ve never been asked to break this kind of binding spell, do you think you could do it? Likely depends on the enchanter, eh?”

"Refuge? Antonin, this is prime real estate." Faintly laughing as Dolohov joined him in his corner, he nudged a tray of snacks between them with the tip of his finger. "It comes complete with seclusion and refreshments, and is located close enough to an exit for a swift departure. What more could be desired?"

Reaching for the bottle, he then topped up his glass and lounged back, eyes fixed on the other wizard. "Any ceremony is important. Marriage vows are binding magic, whether they go sour or not. But I do not think this happy couple need worry about that." It was plain to see they were more than content with their good fortune. Rabastan did not doubt that this marriage would be long lasting.

As poker-faced as usual, Rabastan noted Antonin's distaste for the topic. It brought a wicked curve to his lips and a glint to his eyes. The subject was currently undesirable for him, too, and he was content to turn the tables. "Me? You are older. Surely yours will come first. But since you asked, I do not intend to marry before the war ends. I am committed to the Dark Lord alone, until such time as my self-sacrifice becomes less essential." Arching an eyebrow, he pulled his glass across the table, a thin trail of ice-cold condensation remaining in its wake, quickly and magically erased by some automatic charm. "Let us hope that time comes soon." It was his dearest wish to see society righted, with the Dark Lord and his most trusted at its helm.

[xantoninxdolohovx]

It was a great effort as if some internal struggle paired with that of the ropes pulling, squeezing and burning the man, but eventually he spoke in a rasp. “Socks, follow.  Let me go and I’ll talk.”  He tried to fight the spell but it was a hard thing suspended as he was.  Antonin mainly watched, loomed really adding an extra bit of finality.  It seemed that young Rabastan could be intimidating enough when pressed. It wouldn’t do to interfere, the auror, or whoever they were was snared now a shame he went down so easily. If he had broken the code that meant that there might be a leak somewhere, he doubted anyone he had dealth with directly, but it couldn’t be overlooked.  Perhaps it had been to conspicuous the hanging ad.  He would have to try another publication as well.  Maybe something added to some of Sin’s propaganda.  He had been thinking about it, but was it too obvious a medium.  Something to be discussed later. He committed the face to memory, he would draw it when he had proper time find a name to be used in conjunction with the wand.  He walked up to the man plucking a few hairs. The wizard struggled trying to bite at Antonin.  He only smiled and slapped him across the face. There was only so much fun to be had in tormenting the helpless. No challenge in it besides that of your own fortitude and he had overcome any such hang ups many years ago.  You could never tell when a true change of identity would come in handy.  Taking another hair of Rabastan’s would probably be problematic at the moment, but he didn’t see a need to become the young wizard any time soon.  He examined his robe for stray hairs before delivering a pat to the shoulder.  It paid to be practiced at sleight of hand.  A lesson young Rabastan would have to learn eventually, though teaching every trick was being too good a teacher in Antonin’s opinion. “Don’t worry he won’t be making it far even if you take the rope off. We can use something less inhibiting of speech.  You’ve done well so far.”  He removed his hand curious about what Rabastan would do next.  Interrogation was about control, would he cede it for information.  Was he relying on familiar spells or was it something he had prepared for the purpose.

His dynamic with Dolohov was unique. Rabastan was not inexperienced, and there were only three years between them. He did not truly need instruction on how to interrogate. Neither did he require opportunities to be handed to him; he had enough tasks of his own to complete individually. But he valued skill and knowledge, and Antonin possessed both in great reams. The more they worked together, the more he was willing to yield control in favour of learning. Rabastan was not so arrogant that he assumed to know everything. His quest for magical excellence never ceased. His sights were always fixed upon the next great mountain to conquer. This was no different. Antonin provided challenges.

As Antonin supplied the Cruciatus, Rabastan took the opportunity to solidify his spell. The rope twisted and clinked into place; a searing brand that would be near impossible to break without a wand. He was unaffected by the sound of the screams. They echoed across the landscape, rebounding as far as the enchantments they had set upon the perimeter. The walls absorbed them, soaking up the chaos like a sponge primed for bloodshed. Antonin clearly took some pleasure in his efforts, and Rabastan recalled their previous conversation. But though his adrenaline rushed in the aftermath of the duel, he did not thirst to cause agony. He merely wanted results. It was a iron-willed determination, unshaken by indulgence or selfish desire.

Approaching, he observed as Dolohov fretted falsely over his shoes. A laugh silently raked his lips, arching them almost imperceptibly as he considered the man then stepped in front of Antonin. A flick of his wand caused the interloper to ascend into the air, rising to his feet as though tugged up and suspended by invisible puppet strings. Still the rope twisted and glowed bright orange. For a moment there was silence, as though the other wizard were alarmed by the sudden change in pace and position. Then he resumed his ranting and his insults, and Rabastan quickly silenced him with another hex.

"My friend talks a lot about pain," he began, studying as he still struggled and fought with indolent insistence. He froze him, ceasing the wriggling and at last feeling a thread of satisfaction at the sight of fear in his eyes. "But I could do so much worse without causing a shred of physical agony." Raising his wand, he pressed it lightly beneath his right eye and then the left, moving it towards his ear before descending across his shoulder. The act was slow and indicative. What it lacked in energy, it compensated in savage intent. It was accompanied by a macabre commentary, describing acts that would be better left in hell. "A single curse could remove your sight forever. I could destroy your hearing or paralyse a limb or two. So you see, there is no hope in keeping silent. But if you do wish to think about pain, this rope will soon start burning through your flesh." He could stop it, of course. But now was not yet the time.

He released him from the silencing hex.

"How did you know where to find us?"