Athena & Rab Valentine's Day

To travel to another land at one's whim was a convenience not available to all those living and breathing on the Earth. Even the magical had limitations--apparition over very long distances became immensely difficult as well as quite dangerous. So, those in the wizarding world turned to muggle transports or portkeys to manage the longer journeys. For most, requests had to be submitted ages in advance to secure a portkey. There were forms to fill out--loads of bureaucratic nonsense to wade through to secure the magical mode of transportation. Exceptions to such rules could be made, though--and these days, such exceptions were quickly and quietly made if you carried the proper surname. It was as it had been in his youth once more. The world felt as if it was turning to rights, finally---only a lifetime of soldiering the cause had been necessary.

He did not feel summoned by the invitation--only teased, perhaps--to have been invited so late for such an outing. Athena would know he would be required to pull a string or two to join her...just as she surely knew that he would call in whatever favors he needed to to do that. There was no shortage of bureaucrats eager to get in the good graces of thos of House Lestrange. Having his brother at the helm of those marked and masked and his sister-in-law leading the nation, power was pleasantly consolidated with the family.

The landscape in Italy might have drawn the attention of others--but he had seen such sights before. His gaze was focused on the woman he was to spend the evening with. She shared traits with Bellatrix--not of the aesthetic variety, but in the brilliance of her mind and the pursuit of power. He valued such things---just as he valued the differences between Athena and the woman he had loved for so long. Lady Finley was dangerous--he believed that wholeheartedly--but she posed a very different sort of danger than his brother's first wife had. The dark curls he had once dreamed of tugging had been beautiful--but in comparison, the shimmering gold of Athena's locks far surpassed allure of Trixie's. The warmer complexion, too,--even if only slightly so--was more welcoming and charming to the eye. Yes, surely Athena was the epitome of beauty--and Rabastan would be content to look upon her for more hours than the days left for him held.

The expression she took at his greeting, his eyes greedily committed to memory--that quirk of her brow brought a smirk to his lips. He delighted in the color creeping to her cheeks--feeling somewhat like a champion victorious to have put the loveliness there. "And know it, the world does--unquestioning the truth of such--we are lucky beyond measure to have a walk goddess among us."

She received his flattery, and in turn reciprocated it. He gave the slightest bow of his head in reaction to her deferrence. It was, in fact, an honor--to spend an evening with him. He believed this to be a well known and established truth. The man, for all he had endured, still had a heart filled with pride for the Sacred Twenty Eight. A grin grew from his smirk as she mentioned the talk the young ladies engaged in about him. Mirth twinkled in his icy eyes--amusement shining there.

"Are you quick prepared to be associated with such a man? My reputation is well earned," he was playful in his tone---not mocking, not at all. He was curious if the witch really was sure about the game they were playing. She had made the invitation--but it was him with the mind set on making a declaration of intention. Rabastan fancied Athena--and saw value in her. But perhaps all the woman sought was to play their little game. He would accept that--and continue to play, should she refuse his gift. It would be a disappointment, but would not draw anger from the man. Perhaps she had no desire to become his or anyone's wife.

The Lestrange fell into step beside Athena--adjusting his gait to match her speed and stride. He was not the tallest of men, but he had a respectable height about him--standing quite a bit taller than his companion--The wizard had not forgotten all the lessons of his raisings. He had the etiquette to slow himself as to not hurry a lady. "A fine choice," he interjected, regarding their location. It was his nature to give praise when it was well deserved--and truly, he wished to lavish praise upon the beauty at his side. Any opportunity to do so, he would take, even the smallest ones.

A deft nod and gentle, fleeting chuckle were his responses regarding their 'first' modern conversation. Any interactions they might have had before his time in prison had been lost to memory. He was not the man she would have seen at galas and gatherings in the world of old. No, Azkaban had carved out a great deal of that man--this past year Rabastan had fought to rebuild himself, but construction was slow, laborious and felt to be never ending.

"I was fresh from confinement then," he mused--a gentle sigh rose from his chest as he thought back on the day. "I must correct you, though. It has been nearly two years, since that first had the pleasure of seeing you again after I left Azkaban. Time has changed world considerably--much for the better." He pushed any dark thoughts from his mind--refusing to think on Azkaban or the time he spent there. It was still easy for him to tumble back into the desolation that place had buried inside him. "But there is still more to be done. Society has turned to the ways of purist propriety and the world is coming to be as it should have always been."

He let his eyes drift from the path before them to the woman beside him. Never one to shrink from saying what was on his mind, Rabastan continued: "With such work done, I feel I have earned the life stripped away from me. I am a man of middle age, but have no wife--I have no son. These are rights I intend to reclaim in the very near future."