Chance Encounters || Bellatrix & Rodolphus || Early January, 1967
Business was lousy that morning, as it always seemed to be at the beginning of the year. It was still the time when people were attempting to stick to their New Year’s resolutions (many of which surprisingly involved ‘stop the alcoholism’) and they were actually sticking to them. It wouldn’t be long though, for Rodolphus knew too well the effect alcohol had on one’s needs and they’d come crawling back to Spiny Serpent for a refreshment as soon as they caved in. He’d stopped trying long ago, for he was a bartender, and if it was inevitable for anyone, it was him. He was only fooling himself if he thought otherwise.
Rodolphus glared at the inhabitants in his pub that had clearly only entered it to escape the January cold. They sat in his booths, arms wrapped around themselves in an attempt at warmth, watching around warily to assure themselves that this simple pub was safe enough, that no one should harm them here, despite the fact that this was Knockturn Alley and all anyone ever did in such a place was harm. One caught eyes with him and he gave them a raise of an eyebrow, lacking the subtlety he was usually quite good at maintaining, but didn’t care for in this moment. Vlad’s policy was order something or you’ll be hexed out, and Rodolphus had little trouble on seeing it through. The inhabitant got the message and - as if it was his idea - raised his hand to order. He called for Rod - barkeeper, he said. Another reminder that it was all Rod had been reduced to since he left school. No matter - he had connections at the Ministry, and he should be on his way quite soon.
The man ordered a pint, and as Rodolphus made his way back to the bar, he made sure to stop by the other tables and take their order, whether they wanted to or not. With a list of quickly-decided orders in his hand, he was back behind the bar, and finally busy as his hands moved with rapid movement, pouring drinks here and there.
The darkness of the pub seemed to follow him as he delivered the customers’ drinks - they all stared warily at him as he passed. They must knew he was a Lestrange, for stares like that don’t come with a simple threat to be kicked out of a pub if they didn’t order something. His father had made quite the reputation for the Lestranges when he became a powerful man of the Ministry, working just a few steps below the Minister himself. Mildly bitter, Rodolphus was certain he’d get there as well; that’d he’d be able to instill more than just intimidation in these vistors’ eyes. He wanted to be feared, admired, and looked up to, but preferably, all three.
As he turned to return to the bar, a small commotion at the pub’s entrance caught his eye. Flickers of sudden movements and barely whispered words of obvious sleaze were heard, and it had piqued his interest enough to head over. A woman stood there, shadowed by her hood was her face, all but her lips, which pressed into a snarl. She faced a man who was standing entirely too close, and Rodolphus understood the situation at once, and if he didn’t before, he definitely did as he watched the woman reach inside her robes for what was most clearly her wand. The woman was obviously already on high alert, and so he took care to not alarm her. Gently, carefully, and with all the patience he could muster, he placed his hand on her arm. Almost immediately her face turned towards him and he was momentarily worried that he might be the new victim of the curse playing on her lips. It took him several seconds, but there was no mistaking the woman before him. It had been years since he last saw her, not since Hogwarts, and though she meant little to him, he was intrigued, and almost glad, that he had come across her today.
"You don’t want to do that, lass," he said, eyebrows raised in warning. "Not here. Handle your disputes elsewhere. I’ve no time for a war in my pub."
Bellatrix Black had always been a point of interest to him. He knew her only through rumors he heard while at Hogwarts, as well as the stories his mother told of the Blacks, which weren’t always very pleasant. What she was doing here was beyond him. From what he’s heard, the Blacks were one of such high prestige, higher than even that of the Lestranges, that they’d be unlikely to be caught in disreputable, grimy place such as Knockturn Alley, let alone a pub that belonged to it. Nevertheless, his curiosity was piqued, and he certainly wouldn’t let her go now without a story.
Despite the demanding nature of the quick temper that was pulsing in her veins the shock of familiarity stilled her curse before it could escape her lips. I know you. She should have been disappointed, would have been if she had traced her recognition of face back to her father's study or any other disadvantageous source, but she was nearly relieved to see the man. Bellatrix was not scared she was perfectly confident in her ability to lay out the man who had insulted her. But she was out of her element. She was used to walking elevated on the path that had been raised up generations before her birth by her noble house. Although it had been her express intention to avoid recognition it somehow still startled her that the man had not acted as was appropriate when interacting with the Black heiress.
The second man recognized her as she did him. She could tell by the flicker in his eyes. It was more interest than shock and she had to admit that she was also curious. She knew him from school? She had certainly looked on him enough in her life for the sight of him to feel familiar despite the fact that she was sure it had been some time since she'd last seen him. The details began to gather in her mind as she ran her eyes over his face. Lestrange was his family. Of that she was certain and there were two brothers. But this was the elder brother. She knew almost instantly after remembering his family name. This was Rodolphus Lestrange heir to the Lestrange family...so what was he doing in a Knockturn Alley pub? Her curiosity was stifled when he spoke and her surprised expression cooled at his words.
Lass? The insulting cur who was still leering at her might not have known who she was but Rodolphus Lestrange certainly did. Bellatrix Black was no lass. She was not some girl to be told what she did and did not want. She flicked an imperious brow up to answer his warning look. She very much did want to hex the scum to the ground and command him to lick her boots. His pub be damned if she wanted to spill blood on the floor he should see about getting it cleaned up after not presume that it was his place to stop her. She turned her deathly pale gaze to the man who had brought on her fury. There was a drawn out moment as her temper warred with a sharp cut of common sense. The dog had insulted her. She wanted to show him exactly what it meant to insult a Black. But her furious desires did somewhat work against her day's true mission. To teach him what it meant to insult a Black would mean revealing herself as a one and dealing with all of the repercussions that act would carry. Her expression finally shifted from rage to pure disgust and a twitch of her lips deemed the man's worth far lower than the trouble it would cost her to buy his suffering. Bellatrix turned her gaze deliberately from the beast back to the Lestrange man who had stopped her.
"This is the sort of patron you serve in your pub?" she spoke as though the subject of her words had disappeared completely or rather had shrank down to a speck of scum she would have liked to have wiped off of her boot.
The drunk man frowned beginning to shift restlessly as though he had felt a physical chill from change in the witch's demeanor. His lecherous expression was beginning to show a tint of angry confusion at the fact that the victim of his attentions had suddenly decided to ignore him entirely. "Wha's the fuckin' idea 'ere?" Bellatrix did not visibly react but she knew Rodolphus must have felt her arm tense as she palmed her wand when the man made to reach for her again. She only held Rodolphus' gaze and spoke in a soft untroubled tone,"Seems like it is intent on making a mess in your pub." It wasn't a threat so much as a warning of her own. It was not in her best interest to attack a drunkard and be caught out in her little illicit errand but it was within her power to do so.
Another time she might have pulled out of Rodolphus' grip and dealt with the situation on her own. There were a number of options she'd identified. She could do as he suggested and deal with it elsewhere by simply luring the disgusting man out of the pub and into a darkened side road. She could probably lose the oaf just as easily and continue on her way. But it was a curious thing to find a Lestrange by chance in a Knockturn Alley pub. Even more curious to hear that Lestrange claim the pub as his and if the day had served to prove anything about the Black heiress it was that her curiosity had a heavy pull on her actions. She knew what she could do about their situation but she was curious to see what this man from the edges of her past would do. She was not likely to get answers to any of her questions by leaving the pub and the longer she centered herself playing her wand through her concealed fingers the more confident she felt that she could extricate herself from the pub should he disappoint and cause her interest to wane.
