i'm a trust fund, baby, you can('t) trust me.

[irenerosier]

reflint​:

⌻

Roderick stared down as his healed skin, the pain leaving him at once. This woman confused him on the best days and aggravated him on the worst. He pulled his shirt back on in a huff, aggravation at his whole mission coming to a head. “Was I supposed to stumble into St. Mungo’s after months of being out of the country?” He snapped, collecting his cloak in his arms after he had gotten his shirt on. Or should he have asked his family to do it when they had no idea of why he was really visiting? Her touch, even just her wand, was too much for him. Roderick felt like he was twenty again and visiting her office for the first time. He picked his glass up from the carpet and placed it on her desk, now ready to leave as she had asked earlier. He wasn’t going to stay here and grovel at her feet for an answer and he wasn’t in the mood to entertain her. 

He supposed he should count his blessings that Irene had healed him instead of using his injury against him but words of thanks weren’t going to be coming from his lips. Their arrangement was unfinished? She could mean anything by that and he knew what was in store for him. Months of being iced out, made to prove his loyalty once again only to lose it as soon as he was assignment another mission away. Unfinished didn’t guarantee they were going to return the way things were between them before he was sent away. Was he willing to put another near decade into gaining her trust again? The answer was unclear to him.

He was tired, his emotions were raw, and Irene was acting in a way he had never seen. He desperately needed a shower after a day of travel and he was due to see Octavia tomorrow morning. And she had told him to get out. “Tell Cassius I say hello. I’m sure you’ll be seeing him sooner than I will. If you need another bottle of wine, you can always owl.” And there he was, not closing the door to her like an idiot. Implying he would still be standing in the wings for when she called on him. “Goodnight, Irene.” He crossed the room to the door of her office and left, not bothering to close it behind him. 

[margothrobbie]

[irenerosier]

percyweasley-arc​:

Percy didn’t know when the next time he would see Irene Rosier and he hoped not ever. The two couldn’t have less in common and she was already intimidating to him and it only made it more so when she was around. Shortly after sleeping with her, something happened similar to a breach in the Minister’s office and he waved it off as being an irony. Irene wouldn’t be capable of such a thing, he thought. He still glanced around when she entered and cleared his throat, messing with some papers on his desk as a distraction.

“You have-you have an appointment with me?” he asked, folding his hands together on his desk and dwindling his thumbs together. “No…I don’t believe I was told…or perhaps I forgot. It’s possible. Please,” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of him. “Sit. I uh…I wasn’t expecting…what business exactly?”

*

The true reason that Irene was in Percy Weasley’s office was to see if he had any suspicions about the breach at the Ministry. It was his information that had helped and she wanted to make sure that he didn’t suspect a thing. On any other occasion, she would have steered clear. Percy was far too boring for her tastes. She preferred a man with a backbone. Someone like Cassius Selwyn. Someone who wasn’t afraid of his own shadow. 

“I do have an appointment,” Irene lied, a false look of concern crossing upon her face. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest as she gazed at Percy. Suddenly, her expression changed into one of faux-concern. “The Ministry breach. It’s all over the papers. I was wondering if you knew whom had a hand in it.”

[irenerosier]

floraxcarrow​:

It had been odd to receive Irene Rosier’s invitation. Given their different ages and careers, they hadn’t interacted much beyond polite small talk at pureblood gatherings. She supposed that had all changed with the Redeemers. Flora was quiet but observant, noticing the increasing role Irene seemed to play the more the Blackwoods blundered. She would need to step carefully, especially without Hestia there to act as a buffer. 

Flora took the glass Irene held out to her, eyeing the deep red wine with pleasure. Either the other witch had similar tastes, or she had done her research. “Irene. Thank you for the invitation, I was pleasantly surprised to receive it,” she returned with a smile of her own. “I’m doing quite well. And yourself?”  

*

Since the failure at the Ministry, Irene had made it her job to spend more time around the other Redeemers. Specifically, the younger ones. The ones who could be considered a weak link. She wanted to be two steps ahead at all times. She would not be embarrassed again. Inviting Flora over to her residence was surprising, but something that she intended on doing more often. 

“It’s my pleasure. Thank you for accepting,” Irene replied to Flora with a small smile. She was polite, a gracious host. Taking a sip of wine from her own glass, her gaze met Flora’s once more. “I’m doing quite well, thank you. I suppose you’re wondering why I invited you this evening.” She paused, before continuing, “I was looking forward to getting to know you. I’ve recently learned that I don’t know a lot about the people whom I work so often with.” 

[irenerosier]

ms-pparkinson​:

❀

“Of course,” she said with a smile, coming from behind the desk. She knew Irene in the way she knew more of the Pureblood families around England. Though she had to admit, she was a little intimidated by her. She would never admit that out loud. “We do alterations as well as custom robes. They’re made by one of my contacts in France and we can even put a few charms in the fabric should you like them. We also do custom clothing should you want that as well.” She had worked hard for her connections and wasn’t afraid to use them. Luckily, most people were happy with off the rack so she never had to worry about overusing them. “Is there something specific you have in mind?” 

*

Irene didn’t truly need new robes. However, that had never stopped her from looking for them. It was rare that she wore the same thing twice, especially if it was to an event or gala where she’d be photographed. Cassius had just offered to buy her new robes and now - she was looking for more. You could never have enough. She met Pansy’s gaze, listening as she spoke about what the shop did. “Hmm,” Irene hummed as she looked back to the rack that she was standing in front of. “I’m looking for a new dress or two. I have a function in a couple of weeks.” 

[irenerosier]

reflint​:

Roderick removed his traveling cloak slowly, not to tease as he had so many times upon her orders to strip in this very office but, for ease of access. When he was standing or walking, it was easy enough to hide the shame on his side. A cane was still in fashion in Catalonia and, for the short time he spent there before his return to England, visiting his family was only taxing emotionally. He got to his feet, resting against the arm of his chair as he unbuttoned his shirt. Roderick could demand an answer from this woman but the second a command fell from her lips, he was reeled back in to her. It was ridiculous. Infuriating. Yet, it still gave him a glimmer of hope that her mentorship wasn’t through.

Aware of her eyes on him, Roderick did his best to keep his face impassive. Though how one did that after nails sharpened to points dug into your wound, he wasn’t sure. It took him longer than he would have liked even while being careful. Breathing out in lieu of making any sounds of discomfort. Jaw clenched, Roderick was able to undo all the buttons of his shirt and rested back down in the seat of the plush chair. His scarf still around his neck, the bandage against his side still sticky with murtlap essence. A poor substitute for not going to see a healer but wounds like this would draw questions about his hobbies, the way he spent his time.

When she turned her back, Roderick didn’t avert his eyes. He waited, full of more patience than he had been a moment ago, as his head rested back against the chair. If only due to the fact that he was still breathing and she had asked after him. The only tell of his rage and pain were his locked jaw and the tight ball he had made out of his cloak. He would sit here all night, calming his breath and talking himself down if she made him wait.

Through clenched teeth, he retorted quickly. “In a moment.” Admitting the pain was affecting him was one big ask. Admitting it to her was unheard of. His chest ached and Roderick wasn’t sure what was the cause. Irene was acting in a manner he’d never seen her before or her final realization that he was still, as always, on her side. The idea that still didn’t grasp he would follow her to whatever end was burning more than his wound. More concerning than a sight at her so uncovered.

The issue with turning to cards or tea leaves was Roderick’s belief. It was stronger than any will he could exert or action he could take. Magic had given him a small bit of sight but belief fueled his talent. It was the same strong belief that kept him in his chair, weakness abound, confident that Irene had not turned on him. But it was always what allowed him to see what was occurring to them before she did. “You didn’t.” His agreement was instantaneous. The Neither did I was unspoken. “I can’t tell you where I was or what I was doing.”

*

The command that Irene gave to Roderick was a simple one. One that he didn’t have to comply to, but one that she knew he would without hesitation. Well, one that he would have complied to before. Before he left and things between them had grinded to a halt. Now, she wasn’t sure where they stood. She wanted to believe that things between them hadn’t changed, but the atmosphere of the room left her in question. Irene’s anger was possibly unfounded. Roderick’s anger was rightfully placed. She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised. Anytime they were in a room together - it became difficult to breathe. The tension could always be cut with a knife. This was no different than before. 

Roderick stripped of his shirt and Irene glanced at his side, something akin to guilt flooding through her veins. How was it possible that she’d find the wound and dig the knife in when she had absolutely no idea how he’d gotten it. Her eyes ran across the expanse of his chest, lingering upon the bandage on his side. She could tell that he was in pain and her chest clenched at the thought. 

With her back turned to Roderick, she could hide the onslaught of emotions that she felt. The anger, the guilt, the sadness. On any other night, she would have been able to keep her cool façade. The one that Roderick knew her for. But tonight? Between the alcohol and the sudden reappearance of him - she couldn’t get a grip on what she was feeling. That was why she told him that he should leave. She didn’t want him to see her like this. To know that she had weaknesses. To know that he was one of them. 

He didn’t leave, though, and Irene should have known better. Maybe he’d leave if she rose her voice. If she demanded that he leave. Maybe if she threw him out like she did so many others. She couldn’t do that to him. Instead, she stood still as he spoke, agreeing with her, but refusing to tell her the details. If she wanted them bad enough, Irene could have got them without hesitation. She could slip him a truth potion. She could look through Martin’s ledgers and paperwork. It didn’t matter. Roderick was here now in her office and if it hadn’t been obvious before - any sort of arrangement between them was dangerous. 

So, why couldn’t she just walk away? 

“I don’t need to know,” Irene conceded, taking a deep breath before turning back to face Roderick. Picking up her wand from her desk, she took the few steps towards him and closed the distance that she had placed between them. Sitting down on his knee, Irene placed a hand on his shoulder to balance herself and took a closer look at the wound on his side. “Why haven’t you gotten this properly healed?” She asked, her voice stern with something else entirely hidden beneath it. Why would he let her hurt him? 

Irene peeled the bandage off slowly, making it clear that she wasn’t trying to hurt him this time. Sighing, she pressed the tip of her wand to his side and began to murmur the incantations to heal it as she traced the wound. When she finished, she pulled her wand away, her eyes flickering down to observe her work before back up to finally meet his gaze. “Good as new,” she whispered lowly. 

[irenerosier]

reflint​:

Roderick breath caught, spreading his legs wider at Irene’s sudden closeness. He knew nothing good would come of her so easily giving in to him, to touching him, but his want was greater than his resolve. Having Irene close enough to kiss just revealed his weakness, his interest in her. Something that was abundantly clear and something that would undoubtedly continued to exploit until she was done with him permanently. 

His face was open, eyes lighting up at being able to take in the detail of her features. He studied her, a smile growing larger as his gaze swept across her face to meet hers. Roderick even leaned into her touch on his neck, stretching his neck backwards to allow her more access to his skin. Here was a powerful and deadly witch detailing the ways she would end his life if she so choose and Roderick was marching into the cauldron of his own volition. He knew his preferences tended to strange, the darker side of life and of magic, but this was a step into something new. 

Lips parted as his gaze darkened, Roderick eagerly followed along with her words. Until her fingers trailed down, pressing on a wound he was trying to ignore. He hissed from gritted teeth, the wine glass slipping through his fingers and dropping onto the rug below. His other hand grabbed her wrist resting near his legs, holding it tightly as his face contorted in pain. He barely registered her touch on his chest, thoughts consumed with the once dull ache but now burning sensation that took over his right side. 

The second she was off him, Roderick released his grip from her. Both of his hands coming down to cover the wound as if to prevent a second assault. He was the one with a gift of the unknown, of seeing through the veil, not her. Although he would love to have chalked that interaction up to an accident, Roderick suspected that was too good of luck even for Irene.

It was the shattering of glass that grabbed his attention, head cocked immediately to her and not the sound. Before her assault upon him, this had been the kind of emotion he had been working to glean from her. Now that not only one weakness but two were on display, Roderick knew he shouldn’t have sought this out. 

Disappointed in his own need to push her, his inexperience with the contents of his mission that left this injury, and his own inability to pretend he felt nothing for the only remaining Rosier in polite public, Roderick sighed. It was no near as strained as his early noise but his frustration could be clearly heard. “I received orders along with a list of people that I was allowed to contact. If you would care to explore why with me why you were not on that list, do let me know. Or perhaps you’d be better off getting that knife you were so keen of speaking of earlier because I have no intention of leaving anytime soon. I have business with you. Am I speaking plainly enough?” His anger was present, tone not nearly as cool as her own tone. Pain had never been enough to make Roderick lose his composure. Irene acting as though he chose to leave her was. “Why would I come straight to you as soon as I returned? I missed you, Irene, and I’m growing tired of this. If our arrangement in business or pleasure isn’t continuing, have the decency to tell me. Do not string me along with no intention of ever letting me back by your side.”

*

After not being close to him in months, Irene took the first opportunity that she could get. The blonde focused on exploiting Roderick’s weakness for her. She got close to him knowing that he wouldn’t push her away. She could have slipped a knife in between his ribs and he’d more than likely sit there and stare into her eyes. However, she also took in all of the features that she’d missed while she did so. Her fingernail dug into the skin of his neck and Irene tried her best not to focus on the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips. Her gaze bore into his and she tried not to get lose in the brown hues of his eyes. Her finger trailed down his body and Irene focused on the anger that she felt. She resisted the urge that she had to immediately give into him. 

When his hand wrapped around her wrist tightly, she lost her breath for a brief moment. She shouldn’t have been drinking. She needed to keep a clear mind around him. Then again, how could she have expected Roderick Flint of all people to show up at her Floo after months of silence? His eyes darkened and hers were a similar shade, a brief hint of curiosity flickering upon her face when his face contorted in pain. There was something there. A wound, perhaps. What business had he been on? What had he been doing in the past couple of months? 

She stepped away and watched as he covered whatever damage was on his ribs. He should have known that he was giving her too much information. This was the type of information that could ruin him. It gave her the ability to ruin him if she so chose. One finger upon the wound had caused him to contort in discomfort. What would happen if she chose to exploit this new weakness? Irene wondered whether or not it was worth it. She wondered if her anger was enough to cause him pain. “Show me,” Irene commanded lowly, her hands on her hips as she referred to his wound. 

Angered herself, it took Irene a moment before she recognized Roderick’s anger. That he’d lost his patience. It was rare that he spoke to her in this manner and for a brief second, the surprise was clear upon her face. This was Martin’s doing. It had him all over it and Irene should have seen it coming from a mile away. She hated that her own weakness was exploited, especially when she wasn’t supposed to have one. Against her better judgement, the blonde put the bottle of wine to her lips again and took a very long swig of it. 

When she placed the bottle of wine back down upon the desk, Irene turned her back to Roderick, her fingers wrapping around the edge of her desk. She dug her nails into the wood as she attempted to keep her composure that she was losing. Irene was angry. She was angry at Martin for exploiting her. She was angry at Cassius for taking advantage of the situation. She was angry at Roderick for thinking that she had any hand in it. More than that, she was upset. She was upset that she could be so easily convinced into believing something so stupid. 

“You should go,” Irene told him abruptly, before clearing her throat to rid herself of the emotions that she was feeling. She still had her back turned to him, but the very thought of anyone seeing her in a state of vulnerability was enough to push even the closest people to her away. “I had no part in your assignment. I wasn’t aware of it. I thought...” She trailed off, not finishing her thought, her grip tightening upon her desk top as she took a deep breath to rid herself of what she was feeling. “Our arrangement is unfinished.” 

[irenerosier]

@floraxcarrow​

It had been a while since Irene had entertained inside of her home. She was used to attending benefits outside of her home, but it had been a while since she’d played host. After the failure of the last mission, Irene had decided to dedicate herself (once again) to the cause. She wanted to be more personal with the members of the group that she was helping to lead. If she knew whom the weak links were, she’d be able to weed them out easier. Wade Avery, of course, was weak, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She wasn’t sure about Flora, as she hadn’t made a decision yet, but that was why she’d invited the girl over for wine. 

The blonde poured two glasses and sat in the sitting room as she waited for Flora. When the girl entered, she smiled and held one of the glasses out to her. “Flora. It’s so lovely to see you,” Irene greeted her with a smile. Warmer than what she usually wore within the meetings. “Are you alright?” 

[irenerosier]

reflint​:

“I didn’t wish to assume you would choose a more personal method of getting rid of me after my absence. What would it be then? Surely a hex is beneath you.” The way that he and Irene casually spoke of his murder by her hands should have concerned Roderick. His past entanglements never took such a dark mood, discussing things like this in depth, but Irene wasn’t a mere entanglement. He wanted her to be the end of it all. She was leagues ahead of any other woman he had met and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, regardless of how short or long she decided it should be. He just needed her to see that.

Her took another sip from his glass, staring at her as if it would rid him of the longing that had developed over the past few months. Finishing the mission had become a necessity. Not only because his assignment was demeaning to an unbearable standard but because Irene occupying his thoughts made it difficult to get anything accomplished. Had he memorized all features? Though he was sure he had, Roderick broke their eye contact to run his gaze down her body. He could refresh his memory.

“When did I imply that you were a fool? You must know the owl post is quite finicky, simply, because you are not an idiot, Miss Rosier. I wrote you every day. I wasn’t in a position to send anything. There simply wasn’t an owl nearby. They seem to be scared of larger beasts strangely enough. It was quite curious though that all the owls I sent to my sister, once I was able to, were received.” Their dance was fine, a delight when he first arrived, but the idea of Cassius sitting in his chair brought out an anger Roderick hadn’t considered when deciding on his first stop upon arrival in England. His hand curled around the stem of the glass tighter as he finished the wine.

“Will I be the man leaving when he enters then? Will you unbutton my cloak before you send me out? Perhaps some lipstick on my face would sell the story better. I’ll try my best to look dazed as I pass him in the hallway on my way to the floo.” Toying with the empty wine glass now, Roderick considered how far he would need to go to gain some kind of reaction from Irene. How deep he would be willing to dig his own grave. “I recall asking you if that could be my business. You never gave me an answer.”

*

If Roderick knew her as well as he claimed, he’d know that a mere poison or a hex would never suffice when it came to something this personal. Irene kept him at an arm’s length for years. She’d baited him and pushed him away, only to end by crossing the line and being burned by him. The blonde held grudges. She punished those that wronged her and Roderick had never been excluded from her anger. Irene threw back the rest of the wine in her glass and placed it upon her desk, before crossing the room to him. 

She placed herself between his legs, a hand on the arm of his chair, her gaze hard to not show the onslaught of emotions that she was feeling. Anger, grief, jealousy. “Surely by now, you’d know me, Mister Flint. I prefer to make things a little more personal. A knife, perhaps? Here?” She dug her fingernail into the skin of his neck, before dragging it down to his side, just between his ribs. “Or here? Of course, it wouldn’t do the job, but it’d be enough to wound. To hurt,” Irene hissed lowly, her eyes on his the entire time. Finally, she placed two fingers upon his chest, directly upon his heart that she could feel beating beneath her touch. “Here? I think that this is the winner. Although, I cannot say that you’re even worthy of death at my hands, Mister Flint.” 

Irene pulled away from him immediately and put a considerable amount of distance between them as she reached for the bottle of wine again. This time, she held it to her lips forgoing the glass and pretending that she didn’t feel heated underneath his gaze. It had been months since he’d left without a word and she’d thought about him more than she wanted to admit. Cassius - of course - was the perfect distraction. He’d managed to make the time pass quickly. To take her mind off of all the trivialities. However, her gaze returned to Roderick and she couldn’t help but stare. To remember all of the things she’d forgotten. 

That was until he spoke again. Until he spoke again and ruined the moment she was having. 

In a brief fit of anger, Irene placed the expensive bottle of wine back upon her desk, picked up her glass and threw it against the wall. There was no sense in wasting the wine. It’d be a shame. The glass shattered to pieces upon the floor and her gaze turned back to him as if asking him to lie again. Daring him. Irene didn’t reward him with a response to his lies. The shattered glass upon the floor was enough. He was lucky she hadn’t chucked it at his head. 

“I don’t play those games with Cassius,” she replied shortly to Roderick, her eyes not meeting his. If he knew her as well as he claimed, then he’d know that it wasn’t as serious between her and Cassius as it seemed. It was a fling, but Irene didn’t put effort into goading Cassius. She didn’t commit to baiting him to see what he’d do. There was only one person that she wanted to play games with and he’d left without a word. She was bitter. So, what? 

Her gaze snapped up to meet Roderick’s and Irene snapped coolly, “And I recall you leaving without waiting for an answer, Mister Flint. Without a word at all.” Irene grabbed the wine bottle once more, taking another sip, before deciding to dig the proverbial knife in just a little bit more. “There’s no business to be had, as far as I’m concerned.” 

[irenerosier]

cassius-selwyn​:

Cassius had tried not to entertain the idea of Irene more than what was going on. They were in a partnered dance and it was one he would like to continue. There were not many times he felt so natural around someone and rarely was that in another woman. The two had advanced from mere acts of passion to conversation and now it felt less casual than what it was meant to. When Cassius found Irene in the dressing rooms, he could only smile at her and it was enough to step into the space. 

“And where is the fun with that?” he asked with a brow raise, wanting to buy anything and everything for Irene if she wished. It was true she would only look good in everything that was put on her just as much as she looked good without anything. She always wore the dress and not the dress wearing her. Cassius roughly kissed Irene, pulling her closer towards him. “Then you can have me,” he breathed out between the two. “Anywhere and whenever…is that what you would like Miss Rosier?”

*

Irene chewed up men and spit them out for a living. Commitment wasn’t something that she was interested in and she’d made that clear her whole life. The first time her father had presented her with a betrothal, Irene had laughed in his face and promised him that she’d never marry. It was something that still rang true to this day. She’d had a handful of proposals, each more boring than the last. She’d refused them all. Cassius had made it past the definition of a casual fling, but one misstep and he’d be thrown out like the rest. 

“If you insist, Mister Selwyn,” Irene conceded, a small smirk on her lips. She had the money, of course, but she rarely said no to a gift here and there. Especially when it wasn’t strictly to impress her or to gain a position in her favor. Irene’s hand twisted in Cassius’ tie so that she could pull him closer to her. “What about right now?” Irene breathed, her lips brushing his. 

[irenerosier]

percyweasley-arc​:

There were many things to do at work always and even more so as the season progressed and movements inched forward. Percy had come back from downstairs, collecting himself with a tea and scone before diving into his work again. He had barely been in the office, typing up a report for the Minister when Irene walked in. It had been months since he saw Irene and slept with her, thinking that without contact after, it could have all been a dream. It obviously wasn’t if she knew who he was and where to find him. 

“Miss Rosier,” he replied after a beat of pause. “What-how-what are you doing here?” he asked, glancing hastily around the office to make sure no one saw them together. Penelope was finally in his life again and being seen with Rosier would not make anything better. 

*

It was very obvious to Irene that Percy Weasley wasn’t pleased about their interaction. He was terrified of it coming out to the public and that amused her. It was quite clear that he had someone he was worried about. A girlfriend perhaps that might find the situation less than ideal. For Irene, she didn’t really care if people knew. She had no one to impress. Plus, she hadn’t given Percy Weasley a second thought since she’d left his bedroom. At least when it came to those acts. Disturbing his workday, however, was a different matter. 

“Oh? You weren’t expecting me, Mister Weasley? This is highly unprofessional as I had an appointment. Did your secretary forget to tell you?” Irene asked Percy, her expression deadly serious. She wasn’t serious. She didn’t have an appointment. “Business, of course.” 

[irenerosier]

@ms-pparkinson​

There were a number of things that Irene did when she was stressed. None of them involved talking to anyone else about her feelings. This could be considered a weakness and she didn’t want anyone to think of her as weak. Sometimes she sank into a bubble bath with a glass of wine. Sometimes she yelled in the foyer of her mansion at no one in particular. There were times when she’d smoke a cigarette in the garden. However, she’d found that spending money often suited her the best. She was always in need of the new fashions and today, Sterling and Halcyon seemed to be the place that had managed to capture her attention.

Irene walked into the store, a sigh of relief leaving her lips when she looked at the fashions that surrounded her. This really was the best therapy. Standing at one of the racks, she noticed Pansy and asked, “Do you do alterations here? Custom robes?” 

[irenerosier]

@percyweasley-arc​

Irene had grown bored with her work for the day and chose to do something else instead. The Redeemers were quite honestly a mess and she decided to leave it in Martin’s hands for once. It was him that had gotten them into this mess. Why should she clean up all of his messes? Instead, Irene met with one of her sources at the Ministry, promised a lunch in a couple of days, and then was on her way out when she spotted Percy Weasley’s office. Why not cause a little bit of chaos? She was bored after all. 

Walking past the secretary, Irene knocked at his door, before entering his office and closing the door behind her. “Mister Weasley,” she greeted with an innocent grin, “What a pleasure. I was hoping that I’d see you today.” 

[irenerosier]

reflint​:

The quiet that often defined their time together, or used to, was something Roderick had forgotten was quite comfortable. He was content with watching her play at ignoring him. As if he didn’t know the ways to make her tick. He would be the first to admit that she could still be somewhat of a mystery. He didn’t always know what it was that she was thinking, planning. Her mind, far more chess-minded than his own, saw patterns and plays he could never think of. He knew his own gifts, of prowess in seeing beyond the veil, lended her the upperhand in many situations. He was still valuable despite his extended absence from her side. She just had to be reminded of that.

“Is this the night you test a draught on me?” Roderick inquired, holding the glass up the light of the fire before extending it out to meet her in a polite cheers. Though he had forgotten the silence, he had remembered the steps to their dance. The barbs she threw his way. How he allowed them to hit, and that was the key word there. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone else speaking to him in such a manner. Irene could lash out as much as she wanted to. He intended to do the same. To push at her until he finally gleamed a sight at the truth underneath this act she loved to do. She could punish the fact that he had an assignment away from her for once. He feared their familiarity had been seen as a threat to some instead of the great potential union it was. 

“I’m going to presume you haven’t received my owls. What a pity.” He pulled his arm back, taking a sip from the wine in a show of good faith. She could have done anything to it while he was too captivated by her form. Her mere presence left him vulnerable. The glasses prepared for uninvited guests, already coated in something sinister, would be an easy way to dispose of him. “Are you not waiting for Cassius right now, Irene? Am I in his seat or does he prefer to stand by your side? I imagine kneeling by your feet might be the most comfortable for him.”

*

Irene had more important matters to worry about than a man who left without a goodbye. There was a reason that she had kept the line between them pronounced for so long. There was an even better reason as to why she never crossed that line. She was reminded the moment she heard the news of Roderick leaving the country. If there was one thing that Irene hated the most, it was being burned by someone she placed her trust in. Did she state her trust to Roderick directly? No, but she shouldn’t have needed to. It was unspoken, much like everything else between them. 

“I wouldn’t waste a draught upon you,” Irene replied to Roderick shortly, her tone poised. It was professional. The tone that she often used upon people she paid no mind to. He’d know exactly what she was doing. He did, of course, know her better than anyone. Even then, he didn’t know her. He knew the parts of her that she revealed to him. She was multi-faceted. He had to know that by now. Even so, throwing the occasional barb at Roderick wasn’t satisfying enough. She wanted to destroy him. She wanted to make him hurt. 

She bit back a laugh when he spoke about his owls. Ones that she didn’t receive because she knew he hadn’t sent any. Had he thought of her as stupid while he’d been away? “Mister Flint, surely you don’t mistake me for a fool. Perhaps I need to remind you that I am not stupid,” Irene chastised him, her tone cold. When he dared to mention Cassius, her gaze turned into something more sinister. Murderous. If this wasn’t a part of the usual games that they played, she would have slapped him. Maybe she still would. Maybe she’d pour her wine on his head. She didn’t give a damn how expensive it was. 

“He comes as he pleases, of course, Mister Flint. Surely, I don’t need to repeat myself when I said that I don’t wait for anyone,” Irene insisted, before languidly sipping the wine from her glass. The blonde tongued a small droplet off of her lip, before stating, “But I don’t believe that’s any of your damn business. Is it?” 

[irenerosier]

reflint​:

Not one person entered Roderick’s mind when he returned home after months way besides Irene. A good pureblood man would have checked in on his not so newly wedded sister, ensured the house elves had actually prepared the manor to his liking once more, returned correspondence from committees or the club that had piled up far beyond acceptable. He did leave an answering owl and had alert all of his extended absence. He had written while away, floo calling into board meetings he couldn’t attend. Roderick had not written to her. Their play at courting had been quite public but nothing was set in stone. He had been under Irene’s grasp for too many years to believe something as sentimental as letters would keep him in her good graces. In person, in view was the way to win.

“I’m afraid Mister Selwyn is otherwise occupied for the night. I’ll have to be enough for the evening.” Roderick placed the bottle of wine, brought back from his family’s stock, on her desk and took a seat in the lavish and familiar chair on the other side of her desk. He hadn’t changed out of his traveling clothes. None of the usual fine armor of clothes, robes, or un-portkey mused hair. It was a purposeful choice. One he hoped she would take notice of. 

Relaxing into his seat, while his eyes traced the face he had thought of far too many times to ever mention, Roderick’s temper barely stayed contained. So Selwyn was who she was occupying her time with now. Of course. He should have predicted this when he left, or rather thought about why exactly he had to leave in the first place. Events could be orchestrated. He knew that better than most. “It’s been far too long since we’ve had a drink, Miss Rosier. Though I dare say I am not shocked that you have started without me this evening.”

* 

The months that had passed since Irene had last seen Roderick seemed like a whirlwind. The Redeemers took up a good chunk of her time. She focused upon her work. Upon making the Redeemers the best that they could be. Roderick left with no note. No goodbye. Irene would have been lying if she said she hadn’t felt burned in some way. He chose to leave without saying goodbye and Irene chose to move on with her life. The fling that she’d found with Cassius was a one in a million chance, but she wasn’t going to wait around for someone she guaranteed hadn’t given her a second thought. 

Irene hummed when Roderick spoke, but she didn’t offer a response. Instead, she languidly threw back the rest of the scotch that was in her glass, before looking at the bottle of wine that he’d placed on her desk instead of at him. It was expensive, but Irene would have been lying if she said she hadn’t considered ‘accidentally’ swiping it off of her desk. Then again, she might get more satisfaction in throwing it at the man who sat so casually in her office. Like he belonged there. He didn’t. Not anymore. 

The blonde refused to look at him for longer than a passing glance because she wasn’t sure what she’d do if she actually stopped and took him in. Instead, she turned her back to him and flicked her wand to summon two glasses. Another flick and the bottle of wine was open. She poured two glasses, took hers into her hand, and finally turned to hand Roderick his. It was only then that her eyes took him in. The choice of clothing. The unkempt hair. The smug expression that she’d grown far too familiar with. 

“I don’t wait for anyone or have you forgotten?” Irene asked, her tone short, clipped. Her irritation was clear to anyone who knew her. Unfortunately for the both of them, Roderick happened to be one of those people. “Was there something that you wanted, Mister Flint? I’m a busy woman. I’m afraid that I don’t take house calls.” Any longer. She took a sip of the wine from her glass, before her gaze returned to him expectantly. 

[irenerosier]

@reflint​

Irene’s frustrations with the latest meetings of the Redeemers were still pestering her in the weeks later. It worried her that half of the members weren’t serious. It was concerning that Martin didn’t see fit in putting a leash on his son. If it were up to Irene, she would have dropped those who weren’t serious months ago. Wade Avery would have been the first to go. She had no qualms about eliminating any information that he could leak to others. Callum Blackwood was a thorn in her side and it was quite clear that no matter his discretions that his father would protect him. The failure at the Ministry was disgraceful and it was because she was working with literal children. Gone were the days when there were members that she could trust. The only person she trusted was Cassius and still - she kept him at arms length. 

The blonde was standing in her study, looking over the latest plans when she heard the Floo network ring that someone was coming through. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but Cassius always came around when she least expected it. Picking up her scotch from the desk, the blonde waited in her office with her back turned, knowing that he’d come to her. Just like a moth to a flame. 

“The wards are down, Mister Selwyn. I’m not sure why tonight of all nights that you chose to take the Floo,” Irene murmured lowly, before turning to face the man that she assumed was Cassius. When she met the gaze of Roderick Flint, Irene merely smirked like a cat that had just caught their prey. Her face didn’t show the surprise that she felt. “Why, Mister Flint. To whatever do I owe the pleasure?” 

[irenerosier]

cassius-selwyn​:

When Cassius first joined the Redeemers it was first in spite of his parents, his house, every judgement placed on him. There was a craving to fight and Cassius wanted to dedicate himself to the allegiance. It would be a fool’s choice not to when it seemed what Blackwood had planned would bring what was needed to the wizarding world. Peace was needed and Cassius agreed with most things. The trust placed in Irene had earned his attention at first, followed by her quick wit and passion for the Redeemers. Unlike the others, she wanted what was best for the group not just themselves. It was easy to think about oneself when thinking about power and focus. 

Cassius drained the last of his drink and poured himself another one as Irene talked. Discussing the last mission in secret seemed almost unreal but no one was listening. They were allowed to share their opinions and negative thoughts about the matter. Cassius hummed in agreement that they were on the same page at least. “They might. But that will speak about them than about us…we are stronger than them. And Blackwood. You could do anything he does and better easily.”

*

Irene fought tooth and nail for her position within the Redeemers because she believed in the cause that they were fighting for. She didn’t particularly care about gaining power herself. She cared more about the cause. Unlike Martin Blackwood who mostly cared about himself. As a woman in this world, she had to work twice as hard to gain anyone’s trust. Harder to gain their respect. There weren’t many who were willing to listen to her, let alone her opinions. Now that her position within the Redeemers was cemented, she had no intentions of ruining that. 

In a similar fashion, Irene quickly swallowed the rest of her drink, feeling a small buzz within her veins. It was relaxing after the day that she’d had. Listening to Cassius’ words, the blonde pulled her hair from the tightly wound bun that it was in and let it fall to her shoulders. “It might not speak about you, but it will reflect on me. I’m part of the leadership. If they can’t follow orders, it could be placed upon my shoulders,” Irene argued, the frustration clear in her shoulders. Meeting his gaze, the blonde sighed, “There aren’t many that feel the same.”