Starter for: James Potter @its-jamespotter Where: out in the wild (a quiet street in Godric's Hollow) When: late afternoon
Months had passed since the infamous Polyjuice Debacle. At first, Rabastan had permitted the Ministry to drive the investigation. However, he had no faith in the Aurors' ability to solve the matter, and since he wholly believed that one of them was behind it, he doubted they'd apprehend the culprit even if they did find them. So he'd waited patiently, part-amused, part-frustrated by how things proceeded. Hestia Jones was efficient enough, but she treated his accusations too lightly. So, naturally, he took matters into his own hands. Like everything else in his life, he wanted it done correctly, so he did it himself.
He was a wizard on a mission and he executed it swiftly and effectively. He'd returned to the café and to the streets through which they'd run. He'd questioned everyone who was there, and some who saw the duplicate Rabastan from afar. It was infuriating that he couldn't locate every single person out that day. Diagon Alley had been too bustling and noisy.
Narrowing the likely Aurors took a little more time. He hardly socialised with them in his rare free moments, and their professional encounters were largely spent embroiled in battles. He didn't rush, considering each and every one of them thoroughly, until it seemed the most likely option for taking a sample was when he'd been stuck in that elevator with James Potter. If Rabastan hadn't been so outraged, he'd have been impressed - and the trouble was, since the Dark Lord wanted to recruit Potter, he couldn't enact his own brand of savage retribution. All in all, the situation was not ideal.
So upon spotting James Potter in Godric's Hollow, he paused and considered his options. It was a chance meeting. Rabastan did not like coincidences. He liked plans and control. But he also believed in exploiting opportunities to their full potential. So he proceeded, intent on doing precisely that.
"Hello, Potter," he softly drawled, his voice carrying on a light breeze, as heedless as though they were old friends reuniting unexpectedly. The tone did not reach his eyes, cutting harsh and cold as he drew beside the other man and watched carefully for his reaction. "I hear congratulations are in order. Your son was born recently, I believe?" News travelled fast within pureblood circles. The Potter heir's son was worth noting, even if the poor child's mother was a mudblood.
