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@raffaellaburke-blog
“Have you ever noticed that the new DADA professor comes into class over ten minutes late each time? I think it’s a Hogwarts rule that you’re able to get up and leave if they’re not in the classroom within the first half of the class. Anyone willing to walk out with me on Thursday?”
“Are you always such a buzzkill, Burke?” Lily couldn’t help the sigh that heaved through her chest “or are you too scared to get you hair wet?” the red-head clipped dryly.
“I’d go with a little bit of both.” Raffaella shrugged, “I bet that hair of yours doesn’t look too great wet, Evans. It’s a nasty enough color as it is.”
Glancing at the girl, she decided she could perhaps stay around for awhile longer and make at least acquaintances with the girl, after all she could always hex and curse Rafaella later. “Not my fault that you didn’t notice.” She mocked lightly before glancing around at their surroundings to make sure they didn’t get caught.
She chuckled, a small smile teasing at her lips. “No need to be rude. As far as I know, we have no bad blood.” Raffaella didn’t know Alecto Carrow that well-- she was a year older than her, and they didn’t run in the same crowds. Still, they couldn’t be too different from each other. “How’s your brother? Haven’t really seen him around much.”
Raising an eyebrow at Rafaella, Alecto decided to shrug before she replied, “Do as you must - I couldn’t care anyless.” Burke may have been a pureblood, but she didn’t know the Italian very well, and Alecto had much better things to do than to stand around and make chit chat.
Rafaella breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. “You could’ve warned me it was you, Carrow. Thought you might’ve been a prefect.”
“I can be the only one, then. Raffaella. I like that. Is that Italian?” Rabastan recognized the look in her eye; he’d seen it on more than his fair share of girls before. He’s not the heir to the fortune, they’d think, but he is a Lestrange. There’s always a chance something could happen to his brother, right? He’d gotten used to it, but at least it was attractive on her. The Burke family name didn’t hurt either. “So I told you what I was doing, or at least I promised to. Can I at least have a hint to why you’re here?”
“It is. My mother comes from an Italian pureblood family. She won in the naming process.” There were a few moments of comfortable silence, both of them simply staring at the other. Rafaella could only recall a few run-ins with Rabastan over the years-- sitting next to him at Quidditch games, relaxing in the common room at the same time, eating breakfast together-- but none of their encounters had been particularly memorable. Despite being in the same house, they ran with different crowds. “Oh, I was just making my weekly rounds. It’s interesting to see what people get up to in the Forbidden Forest at night. When I asked you about wanking earlier? I was being serious. You have no idea how much wanking goes on in here.”
u and rabastan gonna fuck
Probably.
“The prefects should be all done with their rounds by now, right? Too bad-- If you don’t mind, I need to make it back to my dormitory.”
Rafaella Burke --- Moodboard (1/?)
Rabastan bowed gracefully, taking her hand and kissing it. “Miss Burke, of course. Forgive me. The night is dark and full of terrors.” He straightened, stepping close enough to her to smell the vanilla from her hair, to count the green specks in her mostly blue eyes. “I’m afraid my activities in the Forbidden Forest must remain a secret for now. Though you are a pureblood so I’m sure it isn’t hard to guess. However, if we were to meet somewhere other than a dark forest late at night… maybe that could change. There don’t have to be any secrets between us, Raffaella. Can I call you Raffaella?”Â
Rafaella let out a laugh, pulling her hand away from his lips with a smile on her face. “I can’t quite say that I forgive you. You can make it up to me later.” She looked him up and down with a curious eye; if she was asked, she would daresay that Rabastan was more attractive than his brother. As far as Rafaella knew, he wasn’t seeing anyone, nor was he engaged. Making a match with a Lestrange, even if he wasn’t the firstborn, would be beneficial for any family. “Most people call me Burke, but I think I’d be willing to make an exception for you.”
“What makes you think I’m afraid of any old werewolf? Let me tell you, I’m not planting posies down here.” Rabastan leaned back against the trunk of a tree, taking a moment to study her. “You’re not meeting someone. Only person you’re meeting is me, which is lucky for you,” he added quickly, “But no, you’re not meeting anyone. So what are you doing, miss…” He trailed off, allowing her to fill the gap.
“Oh? So you’re willing to become a half-breed. Not something I’d expect to hear from Rabastan Lestrange.” She raised a single brow, slightly intrigued, “You’re right. I’m not meeting anyone. Not tonight, at least.” She stopped, taking a step closer to him, “Burke. Rafaella Burke. I must say I’m a little disappointed you didn’t recognize me.” Rafaella smiled teasingly, “Why would I tell you that when you haven’t told me what you were doing yet? For all I know, I could’ve interrupted you wanking.”
Rabastan gave a sigh of relief when the figure stepped forward into the light; good, he thought, just a girl. Pretty girl, though. His features softened, and he crossed his arms over his chest playfully. “You’ve got some nerve telling me about shagging in the Forbidden Forest. For all I know, that could be exactly what you’re doing.” He looked around, cupping his hand to his ear in a joking manner. “You can come out now!” Rabastan called, hoping in spite of himself that no one would actually appear. “You’ve been found out!”Â
Rafaella rolled her eyes and leaned back against a tree. Lestrange. Not what she was expecting. Usually Potter and his friends roamed the Forbidden Forest at night; everyone knew that. She’d been prepared to find a Gryffindor or two, not one of her Slytherin classmates. “Maybe I am meeting someone. Perhaps we’re meeting the same person.” She smiled at his teasing, unused to someone from their society acting so casually. It was refreshing, to say the least. “Better hope the werewolves don’t hear you.”
“Oi!” Rabastan shouted at the unidentifiable figure who’d suddenly turned up in what he considered his own personal spot in the thicket. “Can’t a man get a little privacy in his own Forbidden Forest? What are you doing here?”
“Relax,” Rafaella held her hands up in mock surrender, “I’m not McGonagall, Heard she’s doing rounds tonight with the prefects.” She smiled and stepped closer to Rabastan. “Would be a shame if she caught you shagging someone in the Forbidden Forest. Or... whatever it is you’re doing.”
“I’m telling you, it’ll be great fun! Something to tell the grandkids! Who doesn’t like swimming anyways?”
“You won’t be having any grandkids if you jump in the lake... On second thought, go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.”
“Well, now you do”, Charity responded still a friendly smile playing around the corners of her mouth, even though there was a part in her that wanted to react rude because that was exactly how Rafaella treated her. Rude. Because they both knew that she had known her name already before she had told her it again. But no, this she wouldn’t do. After all, kindness was one of her most striking characteristics and she wouldn’t ever want to change that. Confused she let her eyes glance over her body at her next words. “Didn’t I just offer you a piece of my treacle tart?” Yes, she was slightly confused right now.
Rafaella rolled her eyes, irritation building the longer she was in the girl’s presence. She was joking, of course, but the Hufflepuff didn’t seem to understand that. She could spell it out for her, but that would just make the situation even more uncomfortable. Shaking her head, she held up both her hands, “Keep your tart, Burbage. I was just pulling your leg-- I believe that’s what the muggles say, anyway.” Her face had to be red at this point. During her Potions class last week, she’d overheard a group of Ravenclaws discussing all sorts of muggle slang. Why she remembered it, she had no idea. Still, the fact that she just said that sentence out loud to someone she doesn’t usually talk to-- Merlin, help her.
“Well, you can never have too much chocolate gateau,”Fabian said just as his lips curled into a smile. He placed the treat on the brunette’s palm. “So, how many times have you been to the kitchens? Past-curfew, I mean.”
She smiled, not wanting to be openly rude with the boy. That was never a game she played-- if someone showed her kindness, then she would return it. “More times than I’d like to admit.” Rafaella nodded, still staring up at him. “I’m not sure how comfortable I feel saying it to someone from another house. Especially a Gryffindor.”
“Oh come, you can’t be serious with that? Aren’t you interested in what differentiates us from muggles?”
“Look at my tie,” she motioned downward, “Do you really think anyone from my house cares about muggles? You chose the wrong girl, Burbage.”
Narcissa arched one perfect eyebrow, her lips twitching at the sight of her friend, “Loads of people come to kitchens at night. The house elves practically throw food at anybody who comes in.” As if on queue, an elf came up, asking if she wanted some tea. She waved them away, her focus on her friend, “You know, you shouldn’t be out of bed so late. – You’re lucky it was me who found you.”
Rafaella rolled her eyes at the appearance of her friend. She’d been worried it was an unforgiving Prefect-- or worse-- a Hufflepuff. After all, their common rooms were the closest to the kitchens. If she were to find anyone here at this hour, she’d expect them to be Hufflepuffs. “I didn’t know they served everyone. Just the important ones.” She smiled at Narcissa and settled herself into the seat facing her. “I’m sure I could’ve gotten myself out if you had been Potter. I won’t be losing points for Slytherin any time soon.”
