walk a crooked mile

Roger Davies. Former Death Eater.  Current Hit Wizard.

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lipstickstaincd:

@rcgerdavies

She wakes comfortable and warm, wrapped around  a body it takes her a moment to identify, her hand curled against a man’s side under his shirt, her nose tucked against his shoulder, one leg hooked over his and the other stretched out behind her like she’s ice skating. She’s not graceful when she sleeps, not by a long shot – an ex referred to it as octopus-ing, and she thinks it’s a fair assessment of the clinging that occurs whenever there’s a source of heat within ten meters. What surprises her is that Roger has yet to complain about it.

     Then again, there’s a lot that surprises her about him. For instance, she’s surprised that he waited for her last night, even though he was free to go long before she was and her interrogation lasted a rather long time, given her demands for her mother ( which sound much more badass when phrased as lawyer rather than mommy! ) and her penchant for mouthing off to officers of the law. She stays still for a moment longer before pressing a tired kiss to his shoulder and dragging herself out of bed to make coffee.

     When she comes back it’s with the mail and a cup for the both of them, the cat following eagerly now that she’s awake and meowing incessantly to demand attention. As soon as Astoria sits on the bed again, Estella follows, gently prodding Roger in the thigh until he makes any movement, gives any indication that he’s even remotely awake as well. Astoria looks down at him, grins, reaches over to toy idly with his hair. “Morning, sunshine – there’s coffee on the bedside table and I think there are eggs in my kitchen if you want food.”

Roger wakes up in an almost familiar bed, with an almost familiar cat pawning at him, and an almost familiar girl pressing playing with his hair. It’s surprisingly nice to wake up to. “Morning,” he breathes out, stifling a yawn as he leans over to press a kiss to her shoulder. 

“All of that sounds good,” he says with a grin, as he sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the back. “Let me just go brush my teeth.” They’ve gotten to the point where he’s slept over enough times that he keeps a toothbrush at her place--he’s not sure how it makes him feel, not yet. It’s new, though, and not necessarily bad. 

He’s back from the bathroom in a few minutes, teeth perfectly brushed, sitting down besides her on the bed and reaching for his cup of coffee immediately. “Thank you,” he says. “Not really in the mood for food yet, I don’t think. Last night was-yeah. How are you?”

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thcrnedflowers:

“Good kind of chaotic?” Fleur tilted her head with a grin. “Who is she?” She’s curious, of course but more than that she’s happy for him. Roger being one the only exes that didn’t come to a brutal and dramatic end. He was one of the only one’s she could still call a friend after everything, and shamelessly she’s really happy she didn’t have to rip up her Yule ball pictures. 

“It is,” She paused, a crinkle in her nose appearing as she looked for a word in either large to describe the feeling and failing to do so. “Different than I expected.” 

“The busy kind of chaotic,” Roger said, a small smile drawn on his face. “And why do you always assume there is a girl?” Nevermind that there is a girl--that’s not the point. It’s a matter of principle. He stands still, completely serious for a moment, before breaking into a wide grin. “Fine, there is a girl,” he admits. “But it’s--new. Very new. Fun, though. Very fun.

And now I have to ask--good different or bad different?”

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legacyreigned:

“What is it with everyone? How much time do you all think I have to twirl some imaginary mustache and plot a hostile takeover of the universe?” Harry doesn’t mean to sound frustrated, per se, but he can’t quite stop himself from snapping a bit. “Davies, I’m on my sixth revision – sixth – of the report on the Gunderson arrest this morning, because people keep coming in here to add things on to the file I’ve already got. It’s two hours past due. If I had the time to chase people down to hound them for leads, I’d be using it to get some sleep.

     “But yes, you have my word. If they come to me on their own, or someone else reports the same thing, then I’ll work from that; otherwise, this stays between us, until someone’s in immediate danger. I think that’s fair.” It doesn’t surprise him as much as it should to hear Draco Malfoy’s name attached to this; then again, maybe that’s all the proof necessary that this is serious. A hoax would go after the easy targets first, probably to get some sort of media attention. If whoever’s sending these letters is deliberately ignoring Draco Malfoy, the most obvious target in the country for this sort of thing, maybe it’s because they’re damned clever.

     And he doesn’t like that. No; he doesn’t like that one bit. “Right. Thank you. I can come by to do a sweep of your apartment tonight. As for Greengrass, she was convicted, and one of the stipulations off her release was that Aurors would perform checks.” Some scheduled. Most not. “But – out of courtesy for you telling us, and her cooperating, tell her we’ll be by tomorrow night, if that works for her. Probably just me, actually.”

     He softens, somewhat, his irritation from before dissipating. “I do appreciate you telling me. And if you need security, we’ll provide it – I’d rather you were overcautious and nothing happened than that you didn’t contact us and got hurt. Whatever else anyone thinks you were, you are one of us, and I’m serious about that. We need to look after our own. Will you tell me if you’re contacted by – whoever this is again?”

Roger snorts loudly at Potter’s little temper tantrum, shaking his head in amusement. “You aren’t the only person working in this department,” he points out, rather helpfully. “And while you feel like that, it doesn’t mean everyone else in your department does. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past few years it’s not to take anything for granted. It’s worked out spectacularly for me.

”And if you’re performing checks on Astoria and she still got one of these letters, maybe you’re checks aren’t as thorough as you believe them to be,” Roger points out calmly. “I’m not trying to offend you or your department here, but some things always slip through the cracks. Trust me, I know. My work is quite similar to yours.” 

And because he sometimes is a pain in the ass, he can’t help but to add, “Less reports to write, though.” He grins as he stands, waving a hand. “I thought it was important to bring to the Ministry’s attention,” he says with a shrug. Both for the Ministry--which he doesn’t give a fuck about--and himself--which he does care a lot about. “I should get going, but--yeah, I’ll tell you. Of course.” Maybe. If it benefits him. Something else Potter doesn’t need to know about.

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eddiecarmichal:

“I don’t think it would be worth following them no matter who they were from.” Eddie shot his friend a look, his friends choice of becoming a death eater always left him feeling annoyed, “If it is Crinke–well that just opens up an entirely new set of problems.” He grimaced, not liking the entire situation that they were finding themselves in at all.

“I think it’s her,” Roger said, finally telling someone his fears. “Her or someone else working for her. It could be one of--it could be a former Death Eater, but...” He sighed, carding a hand through his hair. “Whoever’s behind this has at least a modicum of intelligence and strategic thinking. The problem is, anyone with a modicum of intelligence and strategic thinking knows it’s a lost cause. The numbers are even worse than the last time around.”

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legacyreigned:

Harry has heard of her – he’s heard of pretty much everyone who’s stood trial. Maybe dating other Death Eaters isn’t your best move, he considers saying, but he bites his tongue. It’s really none of his business who any of them are sleeping with; consenting adults doing consensual things doesn’t really matter to him. “And she got a letter. As well as – someone else you’re not willing to tell me about. I’ve gotten a few reports but…” None of the curse words he’s learned since acclimating to this world quite fit, and so he sticks to his favorite. “Well, shit.”

     What is there to do, now? This is an issue, widespread enough that Harry can’t dismiss it as a joke. ( He really wishes he could. ) “Can you tell me about this third person off the record? Won’t go in any of the files – but the more I know, the quicker we can figure this out, and I’ll only include their name in any reports if they volunteer that information or someone else tells me about it, completely independent of what you’ve told me.

     “It’ll also help me if I know more about you – and the company you keep. You’ve mentioned you’re dating Astoria Greengrass; are there any other Death Eaters you’ve kept in contact with? Sympathizers? Anyone who might have sent this to you?” Harry drums his fingers rhythmically against the desk. “Anyone who might be threatening you?” There are a thousand things this could be and Harry’s post on all of them. “Do you feel safe at your flat? Do you want us to assign someone to sweep it, or to stay nearby and watch?”

     Whatever else Roger Davies may have been, or may be now, he’s still one of them, and that hasn’t changed. “I’m going to keep this,” he says finally, gesturing to the letter, “and I’m going to try some spells of my own on it. See if we can’t figure something else out.”

Roger can’t help but laugh at Potter’s reaction, his amusement unmistakable. “Well,shit does seem to sum it up quite nicely,” he says, grinning. “There’s probably more people, too. I haven’t exactly gone looking for these people.” Except Malfoy, though that’s neither here nor there. There’s some things Potter doesn’t need to know. 

Although maybe he does need to know about Malfoy’s involvement in this whole mess. Still, there are some guarantees he’ll need first. “If I tell you all I know, I want your word that you will not try to go after them because of what I tell you, and that he will never know I told you this. Do we have a deal, Potter?” 

For all Roger dislikes Gryffindors, there are some things about them he does appreciate--such as their desperate desire to do the right thing. It’s why he believes Potter when he agrees to his terms. “Off the record? A friend of Draco Malfoy’s.” Roger shrugs. “I didn’t press for a name. Didn’t seem important. Draco Malfoy’s friends fit a very specific profile, after all. Malfoy hadn’t gotten one yet, though he was fully expecting it. I did ask him to ask around--say what you will about the Malfoys, but they do have connections that neither of us could ever come close to. It’s why I wanted to keep his name out of it--didn’t seem worth compromising this source of information, especially if he’s apparently cooperating. 

“As for the company I keep--not particularly? I’ve spoken to Montague a few times, but he doesn’t exactly make up for fascinating conversation. I’ve talked to Malfoy, but I don’t particularly like the guy. I don’t think anyone particularly likes the guy. And there are plenty of people who don’t like me--I’ve been accused of being a Death Eater, and I’m working for the Ministry. It makes me very unpopular with quite a lot of people. There are plenty of people who could’ve sent me this, just not one I’d consider likely.” That’s a lie--there is Crinke. “Might as well have someone sweep my apartment too. I was very thorough, but it’s worth the try. I’ve checked Astoria’s too; I can ask her if she wants you to go over hers as well. No security, though. Not for now. But thanks for the offer.”

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eddiecarmichal:

“It all does seem rather odd.” Eddie murmured, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, “My superiors have been acting funny as well…” He admitted reluctantly, but truly he had never been able to keep a secret from Roger, “The Ministers office has asked them to review every case from the last five years.” He shrugged, “Normally it would be nothing–but we did just have our review last year so it all seems a bit overkill.”

“Everything seems odd nowadays,” Roger agrees, wrinkling his nose. “I’m just--I don’t know. I really don’t. Because if it’s one of us starting this up I don’t think they’re worth following, but if it’s Crinke--it rather complicates things, doesn’t it? If she’s that desperate to find ghosts, she’s going to find them, isn’t she? Even if she’s the one who has to make them in the first place.”

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thcrnedflowers:

“I would have sent them home with a swollen face.” Fleur deadpanned between bites. “I have two rules, when it comes to food. Don’t take from my plate, and don’t preach while I eat.” She says with all seriousness, only cracking a smile when she’s sure her point was made. “You would know how I’ve been if you’d written.” She says with a glance from the corner of her eye, it’s a look with memories attached. One that let him know he would never be off the hook that easily. “How are you, chaton?” 

“Your propensity for food-related violence has always been my favorite thing about you,” Roger says, with an easy grin tugging at his lips, though he looks somewhat chastised at her next words. “I really am sorry about that,” he says, and he even means it. “The last few months have been--well, chaotic is a good way to describe it, I suppose. Good kind of chaotic, though, I think. What about you, then? What’s it like to be a married woman?”

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“Of course you can,” he says softly, abandoning her side just enough to pick his coat from the chair she’d draped it across. Gently, he wraps it around her shoulders, pulling her carefully by her lapels to kiss he lips. “Good like this? What else do you need?” 

His lips curl up when she leans closer to him, and gingerly he wraps his arms around her, lifting her off the desk and onto his arms, so he can carry her to the chair and sit down, settling her carefully onto his lap. 

“There you go,” he says softly, a smile on his face. “Is this what you had in mind?”

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Harry: "Hello. My name is Auror Potter -- which you already know -- and I just have a few questions for you. Please know that you're not being charged with any crime. We're just trying to get some information."

Roger: "Strange way to go about getting information. Though I suppose I should just be glad there is no Dementor at the door."

Harry: "I know. For what it's worth, I don't really like this, either. We've already got a record of you cooperating with us in this matter and if we can keep this quick, you'll be out of here in no time."

Roger: "Yes, I'm sure you don't. Just get on with it."

Harry: "Could you please state your name and age for our records?"

Roger: "Roger Davies, 26. This is known already."

Harry: "Where were you prior to this event tonight?"

Roger: 'St Mungo's, getting treatment for a wound I suffered while working for the same ministry who is now interrogating me for... whatever this is supposed to be."

Harry: "What time did you leave St Mungo's?"

Harry: "And this isn't an interrogation. We're just trying to get information."

Roger: 'I'm sure you are. Around six, I believe. I went home, was there just long enough to shower and get changed, went to pick up Astoria at her lab. spent around half an hour there, and then here we were."

Harry: "Right, thank you. We already know you got the letter -- we already know what it said. There's no chance that we're lucky and you've somehow realized who's sending these?"

Roger: "I'm afraid not."

Harry: "Do you have any leads? Any ideas about this?"

Roger: "No."

Harry: "Have you gotten any more letters? Or found out about anyone else getting them?"

Roger: "No and no."

Harry: "Right. Okay. Thanks, then. You're all set. You're free to -- er -- wait here until we finish our sweep of the building. Do you feel safe heading home on your own, or do you want us to have someone bring you there?"

Roger: "I don't need a nanny. Thank you, though."

Harry: "Not a nanny. But -- right. Okay. D'you want me to have anyone bring you anything to drink? We can't have you helping investigate this right now but if you've got any questions I can try and answer them."

Roger: "No. Am I free to go now or am I a suspect in anything else?"

Harry: "You're not a suspect in this. But yeah, you're free to -- well, we're still sweeping the building to make sure there's no threat to anyone in here, so it might be a little while longer. Tell them you're one of my staff and they'll probably let you through but I can't make any promises."

Roger: "That's very helpful of you. Well, if that's all--well, I'd say it's been a pleasure but we both know I'd be lying.  Have a good night, Auror Potter."

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eddiecarmichal:

“I just think it’s bit too early to draw conclusions, darling” His voice trailed off, “It’s too early to analyze the evidence we have. Which, by the way is none.” Eddie shifted his stance, the only clear sign that he was feeling agitated, “You’re reckless when it works in your favour.” his voice was knowing as he gave him a long look before letting loose a sigh, “I just have a really bad feeling that things are going to….change. Which is bothersome–I hate change.”

“It’s early to draw conclusions but it’s not early to prepare for what may happen,” Roger says, waving a hand. It’s important to be prepared. It’s the only way he knows he can survive whatever will be coming next. “I don’t know. I just really don’t trust Crinke. I really don’t trust any of this, to be honest.”

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She asks him to fuck her harder and he does, all but slamming inside her with every thrust of his hips, and he’s got one hand tight around her throat and the other moving almost furiously against her clit and Merlin, he could do this for years and he still wouldn’t have gotten enough of her. 

He likes the nails raking down his back, he likes her legs wrapped around his waist, he likes pretty much everything about this, and it’s not long before he’s feeling familiar pressure build at the base of his spine, and he speeds up his hips, speeds up his hand, and it’s not long before she’s falling apart underneath and all around him, and he’s following closely behind her. 

“Hi,” he laughs when he’s somehow returned to his own body, ducking his head into her neck for a moment and pressing a lingering kiss there. “That was fun.” He laughs again, pressing a kiss to his lips. “All good? What do you need?”

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She’s terribly sweet. It’s not often what he’s looking for--Hell, it’s often what sends him running as fast as his legs will carry him in the opposite direction--but on her, he likes it. Oh her, it’s endearing. He can’t tell if it’s because she’s endearing or because he’s in the mood to be endeared, though  he supposes it doesn’t matter that much, anyway. 

It makes his lips curl up in an indulgent smile, makes him loosen his grip on her throat so he can brush his fingers along her neck. He stills inside her, waiting for her to speak, waiting for her to tell him what she wants, and when she has he nods, tightening his grip again so he can pull her up, bring their lips crashing together.

 “I don’t mind looking after you,” he promises, and then he starts moving inside her, deep and hard and fast, the desk shaking underneath her, his hand on her throat, his lips on hers. “Touch yourself now,” he orders, before pressing his lips to hers again.

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“You cal it low blow, I call it knowing my audience,” Roger points out, grinning at the use of his last name. “Same safeword, yeah,” he agrees, and, really, he can’t think of any single word he’d like to hear less during sex then that awful woman’s name. 

Usually, he’d take his time with her, draw this out and tease her until she’s forgotten her own name. But they don’t have time for that, not now--maybe later, after the gala. Now, he only smirks at her hips flying off the table and fucks her harder with his fingers--usually, he’d punish her for that, before sinking to his knees between her spread legs.

The smirk only grows at the foot pressed against his chest. “Keep it on,” he purrs. “I like it.” And then he’s withdrawing his fingers and pulling her panties to the side so he can slide inside her in one long, smooth movement. His fingers leave her panties, travel up to curl around her ankle, his other hand still at her throat. “You get a choice now, just because of the heels,” he says, a little hoarse. “How hard do you want this?”

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eddiecarmichal:

Eddie was quiet for a long time, “I haven’t dismissed it either.” He admitted in a murmur, watching the crowd with veiled interest, eyes narrowing in on the person in question and on her absolutely hideous formal wear, “It seems we’ll have to be very careful in the next little bit, darling. Do take care of yourself and the ravishing Astoria Greengrass, will you? I don’t want either of you to do anything reckless.”

“She’s the one with the most to gain from all of this,” Roger said, voice little more than a whisper. “Anyone else is--it’s a lost cause. Everyone knows it’s a lost cause. Everytime someone tries, they end up dead. This is playing right into her fear tactics, though. How long until everyone starts rallying behind the only one standing up to the dark forces on the rise?” He sighed, pinching the bridge. “You know me, though, Eddie, when am I ever reckless?” Whenever it suits him to be reckless--but that’s neither here nor there. 

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“Definitely worth it so far,” Roger says, lips curling up. “We might have to keep going for a while, though, just until I can fully make up my mind. You wouldn’t want me to just jump to conclusions without all the possible data, would you?”

She’s right, though--a gala is definitely not his thing. Still, he likes spending time with her and showing himself to be an active part of the wizarding community in Britain is always a good idea, no matter how much he might personally wish he could be home with a good book.

But there are more important things to focus on, now that his clothes are off and Astoria is spread out on her desk, just for him. “We don’t have a lot of time,” he says regretfully, curling one hand around her throat. “Put your arms over your head and don’t move them until I say you can.” Grinning, he inches his hand up her thigh, before sliding two fingers under her underwear and inside her, moving them with increasing speed, as the hand around her throat gives it a light squeeze.

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grcgg:

“astoria? you’re lucky then.” greg smirked, “i saw her over by the bar a bit ago.” he shrugged.

“Pretty lucky, yeah,” Roger agrees, before standing up. “I should go look for her, then. It’s been a pleasure, though. See you around?”

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grcgg:

greg nodded, in thought, “weird.” he mussed to himself, before smiling, “ah–did you bring a date tonight, then?”

“Indeed,” Roger agreed. “It’s not going to get fixed until we know who’s behind it, but that’s proving complicated. And I did, actually--the lovely Astoria Greengrass, but I seem to have misplaced her right now.”