Unnecessary stuff...
I wrote this ages ago and posted it. Then I removed it for reasons I can't remember. Now I am posting it again. Enjoy your rabbit.
POOR RODDY
(no, really)
Bellatrix Lestrange stalked through the halls of Malfoy Manor, in a fury, her wand in one hand and a pair of old undershorts in the other, fully prepared to crucio anyone who was fool enough to get in her way. Most of the Death Eaters she passed flattened themselves against the wall as soon as they caught sight of the burning fire in her eyes, wanting to retain their sanity for a while longer. The witch arrived at the entrance to the former servant's quarters, which had been turned into a sort of lounge, complete with couches and Firewhisky, for the freed Death Eaters (the house-elves had been relocated to a shed near the Quidditch pitch). She waited a moment, and then kicked the door in with as much force as she could put into one movement.
"RODDY!"
Rodolphus Lestrange promptly fell out of his chair in surprise, dropping all his cards and nearly upending the table he was seated in front of when he did. The other three Death Eaters who had been participating in the poker game - Dolohov, Mulciber, and Rookwood - also started and lost their cards. Well, Mulciber and Dolohov did; Rookwood, being a former Unspeakable, was used to surprises and therefore did not jump a mile high when the door banged open. He did, however, use the distraction to surreptitiously switch some of his cards.
"Roddy!" Bellatrix repeated in the same enraged tone. "You had better have a damn good explanation for this!"
"It's just a card game!" Rodolphus protested as he picked up his cards off the floor. "I wasn't gambling anything valuable!"
"Not the game, you lout! I wouldn't care if you gambled your own mother's ashes!" shrieked Bellatrix. "No, I was talking about this!" She balled the undershorts up and threw them at Rodolphus. They hit him right in the face. Mulciber sniggered at this until a glare from Bellatrix shut him up.
After holding up the undershorts and examining them briefly, Rodolphus shot his wife a confused look. "What's this about?"
For a moment, Bellatrix looked like she was going to explode. When she spoke, however, her voice was deathly quiet, almost a whisper. "I found those in our bed," she informed Rodolphus. "Would you like to explain why they were in there? Because I certainly don't have a clue."
Rodolphus had turned a pasty white colour as Bellatrix spoke. "These are...mine, sorry, I must've left them in there," he said quickly, his eyes darting around the room nervously as if looking for an escape route. "Won't happen again, I promise."
"Really." Bellatrix's voice was now icy and downright poisonous. "Is that your name inscribed on them, then? Because last time I checked, I married Rodolphus Lestrange, not MARCUS FLINT!"
"There's a perfectly good explanation for this!" Rodolphus tried, even as his wife raised her wand. "Bella, don't blow this out of -" but then he had to dodge a crucio aimed right at his balls. The other Death Eaters dove for cover as well, Dolohov knocking over the table as he did. Fortunately, none of the gold they had been playing for was lost, because Rookwood had gathered it into his robes while everybody else was distracted.
"Explain it then, Roddy!" Bellatrix shrieked, throwing a Disintegration Curse at the couch her husband was hiding behind. The couch was gone in a matter of seconds, and Rodolphus barely evaded a Bone Crusher and then an Entrail Expeller, before finding some measure of cover behind an old and dusty self-serenading piano.
Rookwood, meanwhile, had crept out of the room unnoticed. Mulciber and Dolohov, who were hiding behind the couch on the other side of the room, were too mesmerized by the sight of the most dangerous witch in Britain attempting to murder her husband to even think about escaping.
"He's a new recruit!" yelled Rodolphus from behind the piano. "He was just changing into his Death Eater robes in there! That's all! He must have left his shorts behind!"
A gaping hole appeared in the piano's body, courtesy of Bellatrix's Bolt Thrower Curse.
"Do you really expect me to believe that?" she yelled. "Diripio! So you won't fuck your wife, but you'll fuck Marcus Flint, human troll experiment, is that it? Diffractum!"
It was commonly said that Bellatrix Lestrange tended to blow things out of proportion. This was usually said when Bellatrix Lestrange was far, far away, unless you really, really wanted to get hurt.
"Bella! Please!" Rodolphus cried. He saw no point in drawing his wand and dueling his wife, since he knew she was a much better duelist than him on any day of the week, and he would die much faster than if he kept hiding. "It was just one time! Only one! I swear!" A flurry of Reductor curses blew the piano apart, forcing Rodolphus to dive behind the upended table.
"Reducto! I HAVE BEEN NOTHING BUT FAITHFUL TO YOU, AND YOU SEE FIT TO FUCK A TROLL, IS THAT IT? Reducto! "
This continued for a while, until Bellatrix had destroyed almost everything in the room. Mulciber and Dolohov had thrown Rodolphus out from behind their couch twice, not wanting their cover to be annihilated. To his credit, Rodolphus managed to dodge almost thirty curses, hexes, and jinxes of various calibers and legalities before being hit - a rather impressive feat considering that Bellatrix was ranked among the top duelists in Britain. The spell that finally hit him was a Bludgeoning Hex, which hit him as he was diving behind a Firewhisky barrel, sent him flying against the wall, and left him too disoriented to even stand up properly.
Now that her target was unable to evade her, Bellatrix made a very leisurely approach, swinging her hips in a manner that would have been mildly seductive if her face hadn't been twisted into an expression of sadistic glee - though there are, of course, some out there who might still have felt a stirring of the loins at this sight. Rodolphus Lestrange, who had by now recovered from the blow enough to be appropriately terrified again, was not one of these people.
"Let's see, then..." Bellatrix murmured. "What's the incantation for punishing unfaithful husbands...?" She tapped her finger against her jaw in mock-thoughtfulness as Rodolphus cowered before her. "Ah...curse my forgetfulness...my mind seems to have fallen apart since we went to Azkaban all those years ago, you know..."
Rodolphus, rather wisely, did not opt to point out that this was probably not the case, as it was doubtful that Bellatrix's mind had ever been in one piece to begin with. However, he did continue to babble out pleas for mercy and the like, until his wife's face lit up with glee and the proverbial Muggle light bulb seemed to appear over her head.
"Ah, that's right." She pointed her wand at Rodolphus's groin.
"Bella, for Salazar's sake, don't -"
"Castratus!"
Rodolphus turned an interesting shade of puce, let out a rather girlish shriek, and began rolling around on the floor, clutching his bleeding crotch with both hands. Mulciber and Dolohov winced painfully behind the couch, and Bellatrix stuck her nose in the air in a manner that would have proved to anyone beyond a doubt that she was a pure-blooded member of the Black family.
"Well then, Roddy," the Dark witch said, sounding disturbingly calm given what she had just done. "I am going to go Obliviate myself now, as I do not think I will be able to remain sane much longer with this revelation hanging over my head." Again, Rodolphus wisely declined to point out that she hadn't been sane at all for a very long time. Not that he would have been able to even if he had wanted to; his vocal cords seemed to have stopped working due to the strain of having to produce and sustain such a high shrieking noise just moments ago.
Bellatrix turned on her heel and strode out the door, slamming it behind her.
Rodolphus continued to roll around in agony, and eventually he began to moan pitifully as well.
Mulciber and Dolohov stayed behind their couch for a while longer, not wanting to risk the wrath of Bellatrix if she came back. When it became apparent that she was not coming back - and when Rodolphus's pleas to be either helped or Avada Kedavraed became too loud and pathetic to ignore - they crept out and surveyed their bleeding comrade.
"Oh god, it hurts," Rodolphus informed them (rather unnecessarily) in a voice dripping with utter pain.
The other two Death Eaters nodded solemnly, and then Dolohov took out his wand and Stunned Rodolphus.
"It's my turn to do the memory charm," he told Mulciber. "I re-attached Roddy Jr. last time."
Mulciber shivered and took out his own wand, preparing to carry out the rather nasty task of fixing their friend's nether-regions.
"Honestly," Dolohov continued absent-mindedly as he tried to come up with a suitable stand-in memory for what had just happened, "I don't know how these two ended up together, even taking arranged marriages into account." He paused briefly to perform the memory charm, and then to snicker at the memory he'd just implanted to explain the new scars on Rodolphus's groin (which consisted of Rodolphus having too much to drink and attempting to engage in sexual intercourse with a magical cactus). "How many times has this been?"
"I think this is number twenty-six," said Mulciber, who was trying to cast a medical spell without looking at the mangled body parts he was casting it on. "Maybe we should tip one of them off before it happens again."
"Oh, right," Dolohov told him sarcastically. "We'll just walk up to him and say, 'Oh hey Roddy, guess what? Your wife's chopped off your dick twenty-six times and we keep having to re-attach it. Sorry you can't remember, but after about the fifth time you told us to Obliviate you whenever it happens so you won't have to deal with it.' Yeah, that'll go over real well."
"I see your point." Mulciber magicked Rodolphus's clothes back on, having finished repairing as much of the damage as he could, and vanished the blood. "And Bella...well, if this is what she's like after she finds out about one incident of him and Flint together, imagine if she suddenly remembers twenty-six of them."
Dolohov grimaced. "No thanks," he said adamantly. "If I'm going to have nightmares, I'd prefer they weren't while I was awake." He helped Mulciber prop Rodolphus up in his chair and set about repairing the things Bellatrix had cursed to smithereens. "Besides, mate, would you even want to know that your wife castrates you on a regular basis? I sure as hell wouldn't."
"Hmm, yeah," Mulciber agreed. "And actually, I can see why Bella might want to Obliviate herself, now that I think about it." When Dolohov looked at him like he'd grown an extra head, he expanded upon his previous statement: "Andy, the man was buggering Marcus Flint in his wife's bed. Marcus Flint, Andy. Marcus Flint."
"Thank you for putting that image in my head," said Dolohov. He was eyeing the dirty undershorts with a slightly sickened expression on his face. "Now I feel like Obliviating myself. Ugh, I don't even want to know what that stain is." With a wave of his wand, the undershorts vanished. "I've got an idea. Let's just kill Flint."
"Nah." Mulciber waved his hand dismissively. "As disturbing as these little episodes are, Lucius pays damn good money for the Pensieve memories. And we're Azkaban escapees; it's not like we can just go out and get real jobs." He surveyed the room, which looked for the most part as it had before Bellatrix had stormed in, with satisfaction. "Right then, shall we go see the blond bastard now?"
Dolohov nodded and followed Mulciber out the door, leaving Rodolphus alone, Stunned, Obliviated, previously castrated, totally clueless, and, after Rookwood came back briefly, robbed blind.
Poor Roddy.
Poor, poor Roddy.
END.
Praise goes to TuesdayNovember, who took the unnecessary 'e' out of 'Firewhisky/Firewhiskey', because unlike you neanderthals, we care.