Starter for @toujourspur-ts Location: the Lestrange Manor Date: June 30th
When Rodolphus married Bellatrix five years ago, he didn’t think that their marriage would look like this after five years. Alright, he didn’t necessarily think he was going to be happy, but happiness hadn’t been his focus at the time. He wanted to do right by Bellatrix. He wanted to try to have a good marriage with her, like the one his parents had. Those words implied having a child (at least one) and unconditional loyalty to each other, no matter what. And how laughable those ideas had been, looking back. His expectations hadn’t been too much, but were still too much to ask.
So that begged the question why he was standing in the kitchen of the Lestrange Manor the day before their anniversary, the day that he vaguely agreed with Bellatrix to meet and have dinner together. If Bellatrix were to show up at all (which he doubted a little) he was certain she would expect to be taken to a restaurant to have a five course dinner and maybe a romantic walk afterwards. But since they did awfully in public together lately, Rodolphus suspected that was the worst idea for today. What they needed was some time alone. And what they needed was not to talk about Rabastan or Hazel or family expectations – or a lot of things, which made Rodolphus wonder what they were even going to talk about the entire evening. He thought he thought this one through, but apparently it required at least a week’s worth of thinking.
It was too late for that, though, because he heard the front door open and close. It had just passed six pm according to the watch he had left on the counter before starting to cook half an hour before. Dessert was already prepared and waiting in the fridge and he was busy cutting vegetables, glasses on to see and make sure he wasn’t cutting off his fingers (maybe Bellatrix sewing one of his fingers back on would be romantic, but he doubted she was capable of such delicate magic since she was very destructive), when he heard her footsteps walk towards the kitchen presumably once she realized someone was there. Putting the knife down momentarily, he turned around to see his wife walk into the kitchen. “Hi,” he said, studying her momentarily. “You said you wanted dinner, so I’m preparing it. It should be done in twenty minutes or so. Did you have a good day?”