“Put that damned phone away Rodolphus.”
The man looked up from the message he was typing, a blank stare being returned to his mother’s own sour look. He quickly finished typing the message up and sent it, then slid the phone into one of the inner pockets of his jacket. With a pointed stare at his mother he put his elbows on the table and perched his chin on his palm, the woman sneering in another direction. So damn fussy today, hissing at every little thing he did. What was the point of inviting her children for dinner if she was just going to harass them the whole time? Who had pissed in her cereal?
Rodolphus glanced to his younger brother, who their mother was making a point of sourly ignoring. What, had he not returned a phone call? These days, any little thing seemed to set their mother off. Their father meanwhile seemed entirely resigned to let her take control of his home. Rodolphus didn’t remember his father being so spineless when he was a child. Rabastan had the same unhappy expression their mother did, glowering down at his plate. He was surely in a mood as well. Their mother snapping again caught his attention, “And why isn’t Bellatrix here with you?”
Doing his best to restrain an audible sigh or the roll of his eyes, Rodolphus snapped his fingers and held his wine glass down to the side of his chair so the house elf could refill it for him, “Mother, surely I mentioned already; Narcissa was feeling ill and Lucius is out of the country. She went to stay for the weekend and make sure her sister was well.” Rodolphus put his elbow back onto the table with a full wine glass. He was glad his fiance wasn’t here. He was sure some kind of fight would have broken out if she were.
When a stinging hex was shot pointedly at him from his mother Rodolphus flinched away from the table, almost sloshing his wine all over himself. He kept his elbows off the table with his mouth in a thin line of aggravation. “A simple please would have sufficed. Honestly what has got you so damn agitated?”
“Rodolphus, don’t talk to your mother in that tone--” Their father started. “No! No, I’ll tell him what’s wrong,” She pointed an accusing finger at Rabastan, “This fucking faggot is what’s wron-” “MOTHER!” Rodolphus snapped at her, heavy handedly setting down his wine glass. The woman stood up, chair scraping behind her as she did, “That’s right! You didn’t think I wouldn’t find out, did you? You disgusting little--” “Shut the fuck up!” the eldest son shouted back, smacking his hands on the table as he stood as well, starling his mother into a moment of silence.