‘ couldn’t book anywhere nicer ? ’ he questions as soon as he’s within earshot , smiling kindly . it turns into a frown when he eyes the slosh in evan’s goblet . ‘ such a pity really . but well , ’ he pauses to shrug , sitting himself next to his old housemate . ‘ can’t do much when one is pressed with time . ’
“I didn’t plan far enough ahead.” Evan replied with a sigh and a gentle shake of his head. He was glad of the other’s company though, the smile on his face an uncharacteristically genuine one. He felt a kindred spirit with the Malfoy heir, which made for a much more pleasant interaction. “What brings you to this pit?”
Setting foot in the Leaky Cauldron didn’t fall anywhere on a list of things Bellatrix willingly did. Being there was more a necessary evil than an act of will, since it served as a barrier between the Wizarding world and muggle London. That didn’t stop her from sneering ferociously at the poor wizard who accidentally stepped in her way as she passed through the place.
This annoyance stopped her long enough to notice Evan Rosier sitting at the bar with a drink that Bellatrix assumed wasn’t better than dirt water in a glass. As the wizard in her way didn’t seem capable of figuring out how to use his feet, she made a small noise of disgust in the back of her throat, and nudged past him with the back of her hand against his shoulder. When Evan noticed and addressed her, Bellatrix offered him a tight, sarcastic smile.
“Some of us know better than to expect anything better than poison from this place, Evan.” Her disapproval of both his drink and his choice of establishment were clear in the wrinkle of her nose. A crease in her brow deepened to match as she glanced around them. “What desperation has led you to stoop so low?”
Whilst Bellatrix was never the easiest to get along with, Evan cared very much for all his cousins and enjoyed her company. She was the person he felt he could go to when he needed to indulge his more violent nature. In that moment though, he was simply pleased to see her. She was far better company than anyone else in the pub.
The wrinkle of her nose made a smile curve his lips, the action making him remember countless childhood moments where the same expression had rested on her face. “I didn’t plan ahead. My mistake, of course, but if I hadn’t made it I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of running into you. What brings you here?”
Fifteen minutes before he was due to meet his supervisor, Amycus had settled carefully onto a stool at the bar and cracked open a heavily dogeared copy of Evolyutsiya Vselennoĭ, forehead furrowed intently as if with enough concentration he could forcibly ignore the improbability of his presence there. Twenty minutes had passed since then with no sign of his notoriously unreliable mentor (Unspeakables were not known for their punctuality), the pint that sat largely untouched before him, spilling condensation onto the bar, a testament to how little he cared to be there.
“I’m here for the company,” he replied at the interruption without so much as a gleam of irony, eyes still fixed on the page until he set a finger upon a heavily scrawled upon page and turned to look, blinking once, bemusedly, before adding an ambiguous acknowledgement of, “Rosier.”
Evan didn’t much like being alone, not when he didn’t want to be, which was perhaps the only reason he had spoken to Amycus. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with the other man, not any issues between them when they had been at school together, they just weren’t really similar people. Regardless, he was someone to talk to who was at least of the right sort of social standing and Evan would take what he could get.
“Of course you are,” he responded dryly with a slight smile. Evan glanced over the other’s appearance, taking in his demeanour. “Have you been stood up? Or is looking like you’re waiting for something just part of your current style? Because if it is, you’re doing a wonderful job with it.”
It didn’t take long for Alecto to recognize Evan Rosier – spending years in the same house as the man did wonders for making a lasting impression of a person. Granted, it had been a while since she needed to interact with him at all, but a few words sent her way from him told her that he hardly changed since their school days. Her nose wrinkled in distaste, but she sat down anyway, growling stomach demanding she get some food into her before her shift at St. Mungo’s. It wouldn’t do well to experiment on an empty stomach. “Good thing I’m not here for a drink then,” she said dryly, ordering her food before looking at Evan. “You’re still around? Color me shocked.”
It had been a long time since Evan had needed to have any kind of familiarity with the Carrows and it wasn’t something he had missed. They had always sort of unnerved him, and it took a heavy dose of strange to do that. After all, he’d grown up with Bellatrix. Regardless of his feelings towards either one of the twins, Evan was nothing if not unfailingly polite. “Ah yes, you do that working thing. I suppose drinking at lunchtime wouldn’t be advisable,” his tone was genial, his smile not faltering even in the face of Alecto’s seeming imperviousness to his charms. “Where else would I be?”
Evan had been out shopping most of the day to get supplies for a soiree he was planning but he’d decided to take a break and sit down to have lunch. The Leaky Cauldron was not his first choice of a place to eat, but he had limited time and hadn’t been able to book anywhere more exclusive. He was sitting at the bar, waiting for a table to become available and sipping at the hogwash the bartender called whiskey, when he noticed the other. “If you’re looking for a place to have a satisfying drink, I’d recommend leaving immediately.” His smile was charming, as always, his manner open and inviting.
╰ °✧ that’s EVAN ROSIER and HE seems to look a lot like DOUGLAS BOOTH. according to ministry files, the PUREBLOOD used to attend HOGWARTS and be in SLYTHERIN. now, they’re 25 and is A PLAYBOY. blood stained hands calmly pouring a drink, a beautiful smile which never reaches the eyes, persuasive lips and terrible motives, the bloom of smoke which both repels and attracts, the quiet cruelty in words never said, are the best ways to describe them. it doesn’t say in their file, but word around the street is that they’re a DEATH EATER.
STATS.
NAME: Evan Doric Rosier
AGE: 25
BIRTHDAY: November 17th. (Scorpio.)
PRONOUNS: he/his
BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood.
CAREER: Professional Rich Person.
EDUCATION: Hogwarts, Slytherin House.
WAND: Black Cherry, unbending, 9in., with a dragon heartstring core.
PATRONUS: Unable to cast a Patronus.
BOGGART: The disapproval of his family.
ABOUT.
The apple of his parents’ eyes, Evan has always felt the pressure of upholding the family name. However it never felt like a burden to him and he thrived under the pressure and the expectations.
Spoilt rotten as a child, he was possessed of his own importance by a very young age and believed himself to be better than all those around him. Unfortunately for everyone else, he never grew out of this.
Thoroughly mediocre at his studies and at most things which required hard work rather than throwing money at the problem, life post Hogwarts has been a charmed existence. His time is spent attending or hosting parties, and schmoozing with the best of them.
His darker predilections are fed by his devotion to the Death Eaters. It’s a side which is all too easy to hide when he is in society; but there is a violence in Evan’s soul, a thirst for the pain he knows he is only too able to cause. He craves the feeling of power when he holds someone’s life in his hands, and his commitment to the cause is set in stone.
