A/N: Welcome to Part 0 of my Unknowns series! If you've not read any of it, this is a good place to start! If you'd rather start where others did, please go ahead and start with Part 1, but either is a suitable starting point. If you've been following along, you might read Part 4 concurrently with this, but be warned there may be spoilers for this in Part 4.
I will post weekly, on Saturdays, to both Parts, however reviews to ANY part of the series are tallied, and 15 reviews in a week earns a bonus to both parts, and a further fifteen a second bonus, and so on. Reviews must have at least two words to be considered valid for the tally, and questions will be answered at the Q&A section at the bottom of the chapter.
Excited to start this ride with y'all! Cheers!
-C
Christmas, 1945 – Lestrange Manor
Orion Black hummed to the hostess before following his father into the fray, letting his eyes scan the ballroom stacked with familiar faces, searching for one face in particular – searching for Rohesia Fawley. Her father was easy to spot, still as gregarious and brash as ever after his political disgrace some years ago, talking up a blue streak with a group of Ministry-interested men in the corner.
Rohesia was easy enough to spot, as well, with a perfect set of shimmering emerald dress robes, displaying just enough skin around her décolletage to tease every man in the room with its pale smoothness, and the way a few stray black hairs tickled her skin at the base of her neck. She was surrounded by little pockets of boys – ages fourteen and up, from the look of it – and young men, all pretending they weren't gathered around to imagine she was on their arm. Orion was already imagining from across the room, but she was standing with her dearest friends – Isabel Greengrass and Aldise Yaxley – and on the arm of his cousin, Alphard.
For as far back in Orion's life as was worth remembering, he and Alphard had both vied for Rohesia's attention, first as small children trying to show her the impressive things they found in the gardens of the houses were the parties were held, then as school children offering to study with her, but while Orion thought he was a reasonably attractive sort, his cousin Alphard was unfairly attractive, effortlessly charming, with a bold and rebellious streak Orion could not afford as the first son of the first son going back generations.
So, of course, she always started the parties on Alphard's arm, not because he arrived first, but – in Orion's mind – because he could offer her a kind of fun, carefree existence Orion never could.
Orion crossed to his cousin and Rohesia, kissing her hand, as was customary, as he greeted her. Her deep brown eyes were perhaps the most beautiful thing in the world, and Orion let go of her hand with reluctance, gazing up at her.
"You've missed it," Isabel said after he greeted the other ladies. "Rohesia's already been asked to dance by six different suitors. It's getting absurd."
"It's bound to happen when people no longer have politics to depress them," Alphard said with a wink to Orion. "Praise Albus Dumbledore. Your love life is saved."
"I never thought it was in jeopardy," Rohesia said ironically.
Orion smiled reflexively at her little joke, enjoying the rich, resonating quality of her voice. Inherited from her father, certainly, although she had a subtlety entirely from her mother's side, where she and Aldise were something like second or third cousins, through the Rosiers. Alphard's sister had everyone's connections memorized, but Orion only knew the ones he needed to know – his own family, and the distance of relation to Rohesia, the only girl he knew worth marrying.
"Ah, Magnus approaches," Alphard said with a wink.
"I think I'll actually take this one," Rohesia said, patting Alphard's hand. "Conversation is getting dull."
Alphard bowed elaborately, and gestured for Orion to follow him out to the patio, where he would no doubt smoke one of his vile Muggle cigarettes.
As always, Orion followed his cousin.
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Alphard felt a wave of irritation as he and Orion walked out onto the patio. For as long as Alphard had noticed girls eventually became women, he and his cousin had been enthralled by the same girl. It was a tiresome thing, a difficult thing, but Alphard knew his cousin would have more to offer. Not as a man, but as a husband in their world. Alphard knew Rohesia would have her pick of wealthy, well-bred families, and first sons of first sons, and so it hardly mattered, but Alphard couldn't help adoring her.
"It's getting bloody ridiculous," Alphard sighed, lighting a cigarette and enjoying the glow at the end of it before taking a long drag. "It's like every eligible man in the room is drooling over her, and even some of the not-so-eligible ones."
"Not-so-eligible?"
"The already married," Alphard sneered. "You going to ask her to dance?"
Orion shrugged and said nothing.
Of course he wouldn't. The frustrating thing about Orion was that he was terribly shy. Alphard had the temperament for Orion's place in the family, but they couldn't swap. They looked similar, a family resemblance, but not similar enough for that.
"I'd dance the whole bloody night with her, if I could," Alphard sighed, exhaling the cigarette smoke into the darkness. "Listen, she was saying she'd actually go to Hogsmeade in February. With the ladies, of course. But if you aren't doing anything with Cygnus, I bet they'd let us tag along."
Orion was noncommittal, but Alphard knew he'd agree to the idea. Both of the Blacks were pretty hopeless when it came to finding excuses to be near Rohesia Fawley.
Alphard glanced back through a nearby window and took but a moment to find her among the dancers, talking and laughing with his best friend, Magnus Selwyn. They looked very nice together, but not as nice as she looked on Alphard's arm. And while Magnus could make her laugh, Alphard was certain none of her laughs were ever as sincere as the ones she had when he joked. Perhaps he was deluding himself, but it was a beautiful dream, to think she might have a fraction of the interest in him as he had in her.
"Are you going to finish that thing," Orion asked brusquely, "or not?"
Alphard smirked, taking longer drags, knowing Orion was staying outside with him out of courtesy and was likely freezing his fingers off, too proud to stick his hands under his arms. Whatever fool invented dress robes without pockets deserved to be hanged, Alphard thought as he exhaled a long, smoke-filled breath into the night air.
Then again, he mused, whoever designed Rohesia's delicious robes deserved a medal.
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Rohesia finished the dance with Magnus and allowed him to escort her to the punch, glancing into the music room as they walked to see the small children toddling along, struggling over the blocks, and tugging each other's hair. It was strange to think, not ten years ago, she was among those children, desperately bored and wanting to join the adults, but too young to be allowed.
"You look lovely, Rohesia," Magnus said in his warm, kind way. "More than usual."
His words of flattery were comforting, sweet, but she thought it did him no credit that he was Alphard Black's best friend. With so many Blacks in her general age group, it was hard for any young man to stand out beyond them – although Cygnus was relatively plain, but then also completely uninterested in her – and Alphard and Orion were both absurdly handsome. Alphard was roguish, confident, almost dangerous looking. Orion was aristocratic, classically handsome, charming. She had no doubt if someone had blended the two together, the result would be irresistible, not that either was easy to resist as they were.
Magnus was reasonably attractive, but compared with the Black cousins, he was a loaf of bread in a patisserie.
"That's very kind of you to say, Magnus," Rohesia said earnestly, glancing around as he handed her a glass of punch. She couldn't find her father, but she suspected he had gone to an adjacent room to discuss politics – his great failing. He could never turn away from the important things of the world, even after his insurmountable disgrace. "Aldise thought the robes were rather vulgar, but I thought they might be fun. My father didn't see a problem with them."
"Your father," Alphard's voice said over her shoulder, "sees nothing wrong with anything you do, my dear."
She couldn't help it. Every time she heard Alphard, she smiled, and she turned to allow him to kiss her hand for the third time that evening. Orion was with him, of course, his eyes a bit wide and his attention fully on her. If she'd not seen the way he was with other girls, she would have thought this was normal for him, but then Rohesia was used to Orion and Alphard and Magnus and other boys of their age making fools of themselves. She just wished she knew if it was for her or for her gold.
"So, you don't like the robes?" she said with feigned concern, and Alphard laughed, a full, warm, rich laugh.
"My dear," he said, letting his hand linger too long on hers, "I have never been so enamored with robes as I am with the ones you are currently wearing, and if you were to wear nothing else but these robes for the rest of your life, I would die an exquisitely happy man."
Rohesia rolled her eyes, took a sip of punch, and waited for one of the three – or some newcomer – to ask her to dance again. It was a matter of time, she supposed. But she glanced at Orion, half-wishing he'd ask, just for a change. He watched, but never acted, which was both intriguing and irritating. And she couldn't tell which side would win out.
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Magnus felt like a fool as he watched Rohesia being led away by an Avery – he could never remember which Avery was which, but this was the one who'd just graduated, second in his year, to Tom Riddle – who looked something like a gorilla. She was polite, of course, but Rohesia Fawley was always polite.
Was she only being polite to Magnus? Did she actually have no interest in him at all, but was simply too polite to say so?
"You're sweating, Magnus," Alphard said slyly. "Like a bloody pig. It's disgusting."
"I can't help it," Magnus sighed. "She makes me nervous."
"At least you have enough nerves to ask her to dance," Alphard muttered, frowning at his cousin, Orion, who was still watching Rohesia, even as she danced with the very awkward Avery.
Magnus would never understand Alphard. They were best friends. They had gobs of fun together. Alphard had even convinced Magnus to try a cigarette or two, and they weren't as disgusting as Magnus had anticipated. Sometimes, they'd even get drunk and swap stories about their wet dreams – usually about Rohesia, but occasionally other attractive women they did or didn't know. And Alphard was mostly simple. He liked good alcohol, expensive cigarettes, provocative music, and beautiful women with pale shoulders. It was an odd thing, but Alphard was obsessed with shoulders, and the full exposure of Rohesia's shoulders in those dress robes was likely driving him to fits of lust.
The only truly complicated thing about Alphard, the thing Magnus supposed he would never understand, was the strange sort of relationship he had with his cousin, Orion. They'd been terribly close from a young age, read the same books, sneaked the same booze, and lusted after the same woman. Lusting after Rohesia had practically been a required pastime for boys their age, so Magnus couldn't fault that. What he didn't understand was Alphard's behavior toward Orion's interest. Instead of being jealous, possessive, or teasing, he seemed to try to encourage Orion out of his shell, push the two together, hint that perhaps they would make a good marital match.
It was like he wanted his cousin to marry the girl of his dreams. Of both their dreams.
Magnus did not understand.
"Don't know that it did much good," Magnus lamented. "I made her chuckle a bit, but she does that with everyone. And just hearing your voice, she lit up like spotlights on a Gringott's vault."
To Alphard's credit, he tried to not react, but his lips did twitch with satisfaction at knowing she was so pleased to be around him. It really wasn't fair, Alphard's being the more attractive, more entertaining, more interesting of the two of them. But at least Magnus was the one set to head his family. Alphard could never have that.
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Walburga stood with her Uncle Arcturus and watched as his son – like all the other young men, including her brother – watched every move Rohesia Fawley made like she was entrancing him.
"A lovely young woman," Walburga's father said, approaching. He nodded to where Alphard and Rohesia were talking by the windows, laughing about something. Something vulgar and ridiculous, no doubt. Walburga sniffed at the suggestion Rohesia was lovely.
Perhaps she had fine cheekbones. And yes, her hair was especially lustrous and long. And it had to be conceded her bone structure was classically superior. And her eyes were just the right amount apart for their size. But these things were to be expected in their circles.
Walburga thought she herself might fit most of these descriptors, although she wasn't as lithe as Rohesia, and her hair had always given her trouble. If she tried to grow it too long, it simply broke off, and whatever beauty treatments she tried made no difference.
"A shame about her father," Uncle Arcturus said softly. "Orion has quietly expressed his interest in courting her, perhaps submitting a contract proposal. I would have no doubts on the matter if not for…. Well, for a man whose political career is over, he does continue to be a pest on the subject."
There was little Walburga found less interesting than politics, but she listened with keen interest to everything negative her family said about Hector Fawley, the former Minister for Magic. She wouldn't give too figs one way or other about the man, but for the possibility that reminding her father or uncle about his failings could save her family from disaster somewhere down the road. And with the way both Orion and Alphard doted on Rohesia Fawley, Walburga thought it prudent to listen and memorize every dirty little detail, no matter how seemingly insignificant.
At least Cygnus appeared to have some sense, she though, glancing around for her youngest brother. He'd set his sights on a less attractive but far less objectionable girl, someone he could obtain without any slight or shame, and certainly without any great fear of rejection. Druella Rosier would make a fine addition to the Black family.
But Rohesia Fawley….
Well, Rohesia would never grace the halls of Walburga's fathers, if she had to slit that pretty, pale throat herself. It was a ghastly, messy way of dealing with matters, and Walburga preferred to take more subtle means, but needs must, and she was quite confident she would keep the line pure, not only from those of impure blood, but also those of inferior breeding. Whatever means necessary. And Rohesia Fawley was certainly a case of inferior breeding, whatever Nature's Nobility deigned to tell her in this case.
Time would see her out on this matter. Walburga had no doubts whatsoever.
"Have you had any suitors yet, Walburga?" Uncle Arcturus asked, not especially coolly, but with a kind of business-like interest.
She tried not to tighten her jaw as she told him that no, she still had not received any offers. Or interest, for that matter.
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Randolph Lestrange watched from the corner as Rohesia Fawley danced with Alphard Black for the third time in a row, and the fifth time for the evening. He sipped his punch with exterior appearance of calm and composure, as he always maintained on the exterior. On the inside, it would have been far more complicated to determine his feelings. Even he did not try.
He did know a lesser man would have felt jealousy, perhaps anger at his classmate, Alphard. A lesser man might have seen Alphard as a threat. Randolph, however, was distinguished enough not to feel any such threat.
After all, Randolph had a great deal over Alphard on paper. His inheriting exclusively. His future heading of his family. His lack of objectionable habits. If Randolph allowed himself the indulgence of such things, he could list a dozen reasons he would make a more suitable husband than Alphard Black ever could.
She would choose his bid for marriage, in the end. And if by some bizarre twist of fate she did not….
Randolph did not think long on such things. They were impossible, really. The only person who could have any claim greater than his was Orion Black, and as Orion barely had the fortitude to string more than a sentence together directed toward her, it seemed unlikely he would manage to impress upon her the reasoning for his being a suitable husband.
No, Randolph could have been many things in that moment, but he was certainly not jealous. Even when Alphard kissed her hand for going on the tenth time for the evening and she flushed prettily, Randolph did not bother with the baseness of jealousy. He simply stood to retrieve more punch and bowed his head respectfully to Rohesia's closest friends – Aldise Yaxley and Isabel Greengrass. Attractive girls, but rather dull beside their friend.
"Randolph," Isabel said, being infinitely the bolder of the two girls, "have you convinced Rohesia to dance with you, yet?"
He bowed his head again, knowing she was attempting to tease him because the first time he'd asked, she'd said no.
"I have not yet had the pleasure," he said levelly. A lesser man would have been irritated, but not Randolph. "A custom of ours, you are aware. She amuses herself to reject me on the first request. Perhaps one of you would aid me in occupying my time until Miss Fawley is more suitably disposed to dancing with me?"
Isabel, in her somewhat uncouth way, snorted at the suggestion, and he smoothly turned his attention to Aldise – the less attractive of the two, although of obviously stronger constitution than the fragile-looking Isabel Greengrass – who flushed and agreed to a dance.
Randolph did not care about dancing, but he knew he was expertly accomplished at it, and that it became him to be seen dancing. He was enormously confident Rohesia would see him dancing and would thus change her mind for when he next requested a dance from her, perhaps two songs hence.
A lesser man might have folded after first refusal. But not Randolph Lestrange.
A/N: So, Orion and Alphard are interested in the same woman, Walburga despises said woman, and Randolph Lestrange is confident in his ability to win. Par for the course, I suppose?
Review Prompt: Have you and a sibling/cousin/friend ever liked the same person? How did that feel?
Q&A: I answer your questions here! Questions on anything, everything!
Cheers!
C