Prologue – A Deal
June 1969The soft clinking of glass mingled with the rise and fall of laugher, the air thick with serpent-like coils of smoke burning from the ends of large cigars, held between sturdy lips, beefy fingers pulling them away to billow out a large cloud of grey smoulder. The small room was cluttered with an array of men, ages varying yet there was the same degree of wealth that brushed them all.
The dim lighting shrouded the view of many faces, the low-level of voices masking over the harsh, excited whispers of those who conferred towards the shadowed corners of the room. In such a corner, sat an ageing wizard, his lined face still held the element of handsomeness that it had decades before. Thick black hair veined with grey shone against the orange glow of the fireplace, casting of shadows along the line of a haunting jaw and a slightly crooked nose, the dent in its bridge marring what would have be called as perfection. Hooded lids framed the pale blue eyes that peered out almost unseeingly into the room, one hand grasping around the fine glass of amber liquid, the other holding on loosely to his wand.
Time passed, thought it was hard to estimate just how much. Within such four walls, time could become meaningless, where wives and children could be forgotten, homes and jobs a distant memory. Such a place could be dangerous to a weak man, one that could not resist the power such a room could offer. It was not offices and courts where man's business was dealt, but here in rooms like these, Men's Clubs, where money was exchanged over a glass of brandy and a good cigar.
The sitting wizard swirled at his half drank brandy, absently amused at how it had gotten to become half empty. Or was it half full? He mused, a small smile twitching his lips. Was it merely his own pessimism that was creeping up on him, casting a morbid mood on his thoughts?
"Cygnus," A voice greeted, rousing the sitting man from his curious thoughts. Above him stood two men, not unlike each other, yet there was enough of a difference to tell apart the two. Both held the same thick chestnut hair that gleamed the slightest hint of red, the same sharp dark brown eyes. The one that spoke was the eldest, his frame filled out in broad shoulders, arms corded with thick muscle, only to give way to a narrow waist and long lean legs. His manhood showed on his face, the russet beard that framed his lips and the under shadow of his cheekbones. "Rodolphus," Cygnus Black greeted, his frosty gaze turning towards the younger of the two. "Rabastan." The youngest, a mere boy with a fresh, untouched face that was thinner, perhaps more feminine than his bother's, nodded back in return.
There was a moment of awkwardness, that long pause where Cygnus Black languished in the power he had, watching the two younger men stand, waiting for permission to sit. Finally, he granted it. "Do sit," he waved his wand airily towards the two chairs that were in front of him. "Drink boys?" he asked once they were settled. The eldest, Rodolphus, smirked, leaning lazily back against the rest of his armchair, his frame seeming to swallow up the piece of furniture. "Don't mind if I do," he waved loftily to one of the suspended trays that drifted around the room, bearing an assorted array of intoxicating drinks, some hissed almost dangerously with a vile seeping unknown substance. Rodolphus took such a drink, looking mildly amused as a pungent helix of smoke rose out from its jade green content, before grinning over at his younger brother. "Want one?" he asked, absently swirling his drink over the surface with his wand.
"No," Rabastan eyed his brother, than the drink, his expression starting to look troubled. When he offered no more of an explanation, Rodolphus turned back to Cygnus Black. "I am under the impression that you have reconsidered my offer?" The words were pleasantly bland, void of any emotion whatsoever. One could be mistaken as to think the three gentlemen were discussing the weather.
Over the rim of his glass, Rodolphus Lestrange watched as Cygnus' jaw bulged, the muscle there working in a jutting motion as he chewed over his words. Finally, with tight, clamped lips, did he nodded, a hash movement of the head that conveyed his displeasure.
The eldest Lestrange took a gulp of his drink, rolling the stem of the glass between his forefinger and thumb. "So it is agreed. I pay off your debts and I exchange, I have the lovely pleasure of marrying Andromeda?" Rodolphus watched as the elder man's face turned a curious shade of scarlet, the hand around his wand tightening. "No?" he asked, studying Cygnus, brows knitting together.
"No," Black agreed, draining the last of his drink, grimacing slightly as its bitter aftertaste. "Not Andromeda." He watched as both boys' brows rose in question, before exchanging an almost suspicious look between them. "Oh?" Rodolphus said lightly, just as Rabastan asked, "Who then?" They both watched as the older man fidgeted under their scrutiny, his pale skin turning high in colour, yet stubbornly continued to meet them square in the eye. "My eldest daughter – Bellatrix."
Rabastan blanched at the sound of the uttered name, yet it was Rodolphus who continued to look pleasantly interested. "I believe that our deal was that I am to marry Andromeda, not her elder sister." He watched as a sudden flair of fire, of defiance flashed through Cygnus Black's eyes.
"Andromeda is too young," Black insisted. "She is only sixteen. Bella has just finished her schooling, she's old enough for marriage." His pale eyes flickered between the two, his temper flaring. "What's wrong with my Bella?" he demanded, challenging either to answer. Instead, Cygnus watched as Rodolphus turned to his younger brother. "I believe you are acquainted with Miss Bellatrix, Rabastan?" The eldest Lestrange grinned wickedly, his dark eyes flashing. The two men watched the remaining colour in Rabastan Lestranges' face drained away, leaving him ashen. When he refused to speak, Rodolphus' brows rose higher. "Would you say that Mr Black is offering a fair deal for such an amount of money?"
Rabastan shook his head vehemently, "He should be paying you to take that witch off of his hands, not her other way round." Rodolphus Lestrange turned back to Mr Black, no longer looking amused. "I do not like to be made a fool out of, Mr Black," he said at last, voice cold. His face, once seen as roguishly handsome was now twisted into something dark, threatening. Suddenly, Rodolphus rose, draining the last of his concoction of a drink. Rabastan followed suit, rising from his seat at a slower pace, his gangly frame looking awkward compared the fluid grace of his brother.
Rodolphus nodded courteously towards Cygnus, yet there was nothing polite about dark swirl of his eyes. "Goodbye, Mr Black." Rabastan nodded awkwardly, almost in apology for his brother, or perhaps it was his comment on Bellatrix Black. Feeling desperate, Cygnus Black rose, his expression troubled, torn. "Wait," he said, voice low so that it would not be heard by neighbouring ears. When Rodolphus paused, his gaze looking over his shoulder at the other man with a darkly intrigued expression, did Cygnus Black continue in haste.
"Give Bella a year," he said, his expression urging, eyes almost wild as the words left his mouth. "Just until Andromeda is of age. If you still wish to marry her," Black sucked in a deep breath, looking pained. "Then you may."
A wary expression covered the face of Rodolphus Lestrange, a guarded one. "And what," he asked, tone sardonic. "Is expected of me during my time with dear Bellatrix?" He watched as Black winced, his cheeks turning an odd shade of berry red, blue eyes hard as chips as he glared back into the younger man's eyes. "You court her," he hissed, his gaze flickered towards the younger Lestrange and then back. "Regardless of what you think of my daughter, she will be treated with respect, they all will, until you place a ring on her finger."
Rodolphus' lips curved in a smirk, bearing his teeth. "From what I've heard, I am hardly likely to corrupt your daughter." Mulling over the words, Rodolphus nodded, yet did not look as satisfied as he had the beginning of the evening. "Fine," he muttered. "A year, but up until that time, Bellatrix will see no man but me." Cygnus Black tried to protest on behalf of his daughter's modesty, but was cut off. "Understood, Mr Black?"
Frowning, Cygnus Black nodded, looking as displeased at the Lestrange brothers. Reluctantly, he offered his hand, by which Rodolphus took. "Understood."