"Use Me to Use You" - Rabastan Lestrange
Title: Use Me to Use You. (091. Birthday)
Characters/Pairing: Rabastan Lestrange, Aurelia Selwynn (OC) Selwynn OCs..
Rating: PG13 - sexual nature? Only brief, though >.>
Word Count: 1084
Summary: Finally someone interesting has come to court.
A/N: Purer World AU - Voldemort won the first war. Title from a song by Trapt.
It was a widely known fact that the Lestrange brothers did not dance unless the young lady in question had particularly caught their eye for one reason or another, although when questioned about this, they insisted that any young man of good breeding should behave likewise. Although he wasn’t supposed to, Rodolphus danced frequently, and rarely with the same girl, the only exception being the eldest of the Black sisters. Rabastan did not dance. Friends aside, he was rarely impressed by his acquaintances as a whole, and never by the delicate creatures brought to court. He had danced once with Bellatrix, for they were both bored and Rodolphus was wasting his time familiarising himself with the charmingly pretty daughter of a gentleman who was proclaimed a blood traitor but two days later. Naturally, Rodolphus lost interest and his brother chided him for being so easily pleased. The next day he was continuing correspondence with Miss Black.
The year Aurelia Selwynn made her debut to society her mother’s Midsummer Ball coincided with Rabastan’s twenty-first birthday. For reasons that he left his parents to dwell on, he chose to attend the Selwynn’s ball and postpone his own. He spent most of the evening engaging in idle chatter with mutual acquaintances and watching her from across the room. The family had employed an orchestra of moderate size to entertain the guests, and when the conductor announced that the forthcoming piece of music would be the last, Rabastan excused himself from conversation and made his way across the room where Miss. Selwynn was sat upon a recliner, exhausted from playing the dutiful hostess. He bowed deeply and placed a light kiss on the back of her hand, ignoring the way her mother began to fuss.
“If you are not otherwise engaged, Miss. Selwynn, may I have the pleasure of your company for the last dance?”
“As much as I would love to accept that invitation, Mr. Lestrange, I’m utterly worn out.” Somewhere in the background were hisses of ‘Is she stupid?’ and other comments to that effect. Her mother was apparently beside herself with disbelief. Her daughter was rejecting the elder son of the Lestranges. Rabastan was amused, but although the girl had turned down his dance proposal, she hadn’t rejected him entirely.
“In that case, may I simply have the pleasure of your company?” He watched her face for signs of uneasiness, though there were none. “But of course I wouldn’t want you to feel obliged to indulge me. You are well within your right to refuse.” The faint smile that decorated his features was a rare thing. For starters, it was genuine, and he observed that it never failed to have an effect on any surrounding women. He noted the way Mrs. Selwynn automatically left the immediate area after ushering away her daughter’s female friends. It seemed he was a priority and that Miss. Selwynn wasn’t getting a choice in the matter, but then all mothers wanted their daughters to marry well. Making himself comfortable in the seat that had previously been occupied by one of young ladies gathered around their hostess, Rabastan maintained a respectful distance. “My apologies,” he tried to look as guilty as he sounded, “I didn’t mean to cause an immediate evacuation.”
“Oh, don’t worry about them,” her apparently sweet disposition now only remained in the expression on her face. Her tone was of one who had spent the evening in a state of soul-destroying boredom. With the kind of grace only pureblooded princesses could be taught, she took her fan from the end table and flicked it open. Fanning herself lazily, she pointedly ignored the gaggle of girls that were whispering about them at the nearest table and smoothed the front of her dress. “You’re more interesting by far and I’ve yet to hear more than a few sentences from you. Why have you been hiding in the corner all evening?”
“These events are always the easiest way to reacquaint oneself with old friends, I find. Besides, you spent the evening surrounded by admirers, most of whom I find very tedious on a personal level. I don’t do well in crowds.” He gestured for a member of the catering staff, refusing to take no for an answer when they insisted they were out of wine. Several galleons were dropped into the man’s pocket and that was fixed. “I’ll have a red wine,” he stated and Miss. Selwynn requested the same, watching Lestrange closely over the top of her fan.
“Mama tells me you postponed your own ball to come here,” she remarked as two glasses of wine were deposited on the table beside her. Rabastan’s eyebrows arched - he had planned on that being a source of gossip. For once, following in his father’s footsteps had succeeded.
“I have a birthday every year,” he replied casually, “You will only get to enjoy this once, I’m afraid.”
“I’ve yet to enjoy it at all.” They both reached for their glasses and raised them in a silent toast. “But with the right entertainment that could change.” Rabastan didn’t take his eyes from her as he sipped his wine. An excellent vintage; the Selwynns had taste, at least. Most men would have found her comment off-putting. Ladies of her calibre were not supposed to do or say anything that could be interpreted in a more colourful manner. But he was not most men and he had to confess his interest was piqued when she suggested she show him the library.
An hour or so later, as the number of guests began to dwindle, Rabastan felt the need to remove himself, claiming to have outstayed his welcome. He watched over the Selwynns’ shoulders as their daughter bit her lip and found much merriment in the way her parents tried to persuade him to stay a little longer, if only to see the garden. With a polite smile, he declined, having already been showed around the most notable areas of the estate by Aurelia - and that, yes, the garden had been most enjoyable at this time of the evening. Having spotted a few titles of interest while helping his hostess with her corset laces, he spent a few moments praising Mr. Selwynn’s book collection. The manner in which the couple fawned over him in return grated on Rabastan’s nerves, but he simply inclined his head in false modesty and insisted they all attend his own ball in three weeks time.
But that was enough simpering for now.
Characters/Pairing: Rabastan Lestrange, Aurelia Selwynn (OC) Selwynn OCs..
Rating: PG13 - sexual nature? Only brief, though >.>
Word Count: 1084
Summary: Finally someone interesting has come to court.
A/N: Purer World AU - Voldemort won the first war. Title from a song by Trapt.
It was a widely known fact that the Lestrange brothers did not dance unless the young lady in question had particularly caught their eye for one reason or another, although when questioned about this, they insisted that any young man of good breeding should behave likewise. Although he wasn’t supposed to, Rodolphus danced frequently, and rarely with the same girl, the only exception being the eldest of the Black sisters. Rabastan did not dance. Friends aside, he was rarely impressed by his acquaintances as a whole, and never by the delicate creatures brought to court. He had danced once with Bellatrix, for they were both bored and Rodolphus was wasting his time familiarising himself with the charmingly pretty daughter of a gentleman who was proclaimed a blood traitor but two days later. Naturally, Rodolphus lost interest and his brother chided him for being so easily pleased. The next day he was continuing correspondence with Miss Black.
The year Aurelia Selwynn made her debut to society her mother’s Midsummer Ball coincided with Rabastan’s twenty-first birthday. For reasons that he left his parents to dwell on, he chose to attend the Selwynn’s ball and postpone his own. He spent most of the evening engaging in idle chatter with mutual acquaintances and watching her from across the room. The family had employed an orchestra of moderate size to entertain the guests, and when the conductor announced that the forthcoming piece of music would be the last, Rabastan excused himself from conversation and made his way across the room where Miss. Selwynn was sat upon a recliner, exhausted from playing the dutiful hostess. He bowed deeply and placed a light kiss on the back of her hand, ignoring the way her mother began to fuss.
“If you are not otherwise engaged, Miss. Selwynn, may I have the pleasure of your company for the last dance?”
“As much as I would love to accept that invitation, Mr. Lestrange, I’m utterly worn out.” Somewhere in the background were hisses of ‘Is she stupid?’ and other comments to that effect. Her mother was apparently beside herself with disbelief. Her daughter was rejecting the elder son of the Lestranges. Rabastan was amused, but although the girl had turned down his dance proposal, she hadn’t rejected him entirely.
“In that case, may I simply have the pleasure of your company?” He watched her face for signs of uneasiness, though there were none. “But of course I wouldn’t want you to feel obliged to indulge me. You are well within your right to refuse.” The faint smile that decorated his features was a rare thing. For starters, it was genuine, and he observed that it never failed to have an effect on any surrounding women. He noted the way Mrs. Selwynn automatically left the immediate area after ushering away her daughter’s female friends. It seemed he was a priority and that Miss. Selwynn wasn’t getting a choice in the matter, but then all mothers wanted their daughters to marry well. Making himself comfortable in the seat that had previously been occupied by one of young ladies gathered around their hostess, Rabastan maintained a respectful distance. “My apologies,” he tried to look as guilty as he sounded, “I didn’t mean to cause an immediate evacuation.”
“Oh, don’t worry about them,” her apparently sweet disposition now only remained in the expression on her face. Her tone was of one who had spent the evening in a state of soul-destroying boredom. With the kind of grace only pureblooded princesses could be taught, she took her fan from the end table and flicked it open. Fanning herself lazily, she pointedly ignored the gaggle of girls that were whispering about them at the nearest table and smoothed the front of her dress. “You’re more interesting by far and I’ve yet to hear more than a few sentences from you. Why have you been hiding in the corner all evening?”
“These events are always the easiest way to reacquaint oneself with old friends, I find. Besides, you spent the evening surrounded by admirers, most of whom I find very tedious on a personal level. I don’t do well in crowds.” He gestured for a member of the catering staff, refusing to take no for an answer when they insisted they were out of wine. Several galleons were dropped into the man’s pocket and that was fixed. “I’ll have a red wine,” he stated and Miss. Selwynn requested the same, watching Lestrange closely over the top of her fan.
“Mama tells me you postponed your own ball to come here,” she remarked as two glasses of wine were deposited on the table beside her. Rabastan’s eyebrows arched - he had planned on that being a source of gossip. For once, following in his father’s footsteps had succeeded.
“I have a birthday every year,” he replied casually, “You will only get to enjoy this once, I’m afraid.”
“I’ve yet to enjoy it at all.” They both reached for their glasses and raised them in a silent toast. “But with the right entertainment that could change.” Rabastan didn’t take his eyes from her as he sipped his wine. An excellent vintage; the Selwynns had taste, at least. Most men would have found her comment off-putting. Ladies of her calibre were not supposed to do or say anything that could be interpreted in a more colourful manner. But he was not most men and he had to confess his interest was piqued when she suggested she show him the library.
An hour or so later, as the number of guests began to dwindle, Rabastan felt the need to remove himself, claiming to have outstayed his welcome. He watched over the Selwynns’ shoulders as their daughter bit her lip and found much merriment in the way her parents tried to persuade him to stay a little longer, if only to see the garden. With a polite smile, he declined, having already been showed around the most notable areas of the estate by Aurelia - and that, yes, the garden had been most enjoyable at this time of the evening. Having spotted a few titles of interest while helping his hostess with her corset laces, he spent a few moments praising Mr. Selwynn’s book collection. The manner in which the couple fawned over him in return grated on Rabastan’s nerves, but he simply inclined his head in false modesty and insisted they all attend his own ball in three weeks time.
But that was enough simpering for now.