Written for the Hogwarts summer funfair, but this version oof Rabastan also exists in A Tale of Two Sides
Sword Eater - write a story about only one character
Guess The Name - Rabastan
Word count: 516
Rabastan Lestrange was not a bad sort of person. But neither was he a good one.
There were three things that were important to him: his family, his friends and himself. In that order.
One might be wondering whether Rabastan Lestrange was a Hufflepuff. One would be wrong.
For although Rabastan was loyal to his loved ones, and not an ambitious sort, he was both determined and resourceful - traits prized by the House of Slytherin.
It also helped that he was a pureblood.
Rabastan Lestrange was easily overlooked. His cheerful personality, mixed with his light green eyes and dark messy hair, had people thinking that he was too wrapped up in his latest joke to be of any import. He got along with people of all Houses, had made no enemies, and with a few notable exceptions was not scared of much. He had average marks in class, only receiving five O.W.L.s, was a good Beater, but not team captain, and tended to breeze through life without a care in he world.
At least that was what people said.
Rabastan Lestrange was currently humming to himself as he laid down Tripping Jinxes, Alarm Charms and human-sensitive netting all around his chosen area. He was in a nice little area of rural England, far from Scotland and his school, although he would have to be back in time for Divination in three hours.
He had heard from a little birdie that his enemies would be passing through here, and had been instructed to do what he did best: catch, maim and kill.
These three talents did not bother Rabastan; indeed he was rather proud of his abilities. If he was truly honest, he was a little hurt that nobody appreciated them as much as they ought to. Simply because something was deemed wrong in the eyes of society didn't mean that they couldn't require skill and precision. Sometimes, Rabastan would admire the simplistic grace of a trap well-laid.
Sometimes he thought that he was born in the wrong century, that he would have been appreciated in the Middle Ages, when one could be employed for the sort of thing he was good at. After all, not everyone could trap without hurting, kill without maiming, or maim without killing. It was an art form, and one that few people ever understood.
Standing up, Rabastan put a few finishing touches on the Muggle version of his traps and admired his work.
The secret was to interlay Muggle techniques with magical ones, even if others thought the Muggle ones inferior. There was no doubt in Rabastan's mind that this was true; however he knew that if anyone cast Revealing Charms on the area, the magical signature would be palpable.
Once the magical traps were disabled, then his prey would trample the area, safe in the knowledge that they had outwitted their opponent.
Little would they know.
Even if the day came when they tried to find the culprit, no one would come looking for Rabastan Lestrange, the sixth year Hogwarts student who always had a smile on his face.
