Love & Hate {Rabastan}

[alvah]

Sive walked through the corridors by herself. The halls were still full of students, heading back towards their common rooms, or else making it to dinner late, and hurrying to try and get the last bit of food before it all vanished. But Sive chose to be by herself. She had eaten dinner with her friends, but her heart hadn't really been in it. Right now she just wanted to be alone.

She didn't head towards the Gryffindor common room. It would be impossible to be alone there, and she was sure that even if she did plant herself in a secluded corner, her brother James and his friend Sirius would find her, start teasing her, loudly making jokes and generally trying to amuse both her and the rest of the common room with their antics, dragging her into it. Remus Lupin, the head boy, would watch on with a wary smile. Since their parents had died James, it seemed, had turned even more to jokes and bravado, and Sirius, as his best mate, was happy to comply.

Instead, Sive started to climb the west tower. The further up she got the fewer and fewer students she encountered, until there were none at all. When she reached the top the tower opened into a wide space with open arches spaced around the wall. It provided a beautiful view of the grounds, and of the slowly setting sun. Sive dumped her bag on the floor, walked over to one of the arches, and looked out. It was very peaceful up her, and very quiet. Sive wasn't a fan of overly large crowds, of talking to too many people for too long. She liked time to herself, time to think.

Just that morning, the Prophet had brought news of yet more deaths. No one knew who was behind them, although unofficially everyone knew; the Death Eaters. Suspicion and fear were growing, not only out in the wizarding world, but within the walls of Hogwarts castle, too. No one knew who to trust. No one knew who's parents were the ones doing the killing. No one knew if the next day would bring news of a dead family member. Plenty of students had been taken out of school already, to stay at home with their parents, where it was supposedly safer. Many had been taken out of classes to be told a mother or a brother or an aunt had been killed, or was missing, or- sometimes even more horribly- arrested for truly unspeakable acts. The Death Eaters were using the imperious curse on people, but then again... you couldn't prove that that was it.

Sive looked out at the sky. It was full of dark clouds, and streaked with red. Streaked with blood, it seemed like. The weather seemed to be reflecting what was to come. But in a way, it was beautiful. It had a kind of terrible beauty. It was a hard world to find yourself alone in for the first time, Sive thought. She was still finding her footing as an orphan, still getting used to the feeling of knowing there was no one there to take care of you. She had James, of course, but James was only a year older than she was, still a boy, no matter what the law said. And James was finding his footing, too. They still had each other, they had always had each other, but having a parent was different.

[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Rabastan Lestrange was headed to the West tower with a book in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and only one thought on his mind - experimenting. He'd been reading a few old spell books and he'd wanted to try and combine them. If it went wrong it would be a disaster, but that was why Rabstan practiced away from others. So if something should go wrong he would be the only one to blame. Most Slytherins would probably try and pawn it off on someone else, but these were his spells, not just some childish prank. He knew creating your own kind of magic was probably against about every rule in the book, but he wasn't about to let anyone take any kind of credit for his work, even if it were only a giant screw up.

The two spells he'd been thinking of combining could be a particularly deadly combination if used in battle, which was good; there was a battle coming. No, it was much more than a battle. It was a war. A war against muggles and mudbloods and the rest of the filth that disgraced the wizarding community. Some said the war had already started - the Death Eaters were killing off mudbloods one by one, and while Rabastan was wholeheartedly against killing every muggle he came across, he wasn't sure that killing off their own kind, the magical people, no matter what kind of blood they had. Killing your own species just seemed to be stupid. But, if they came from muggles they were probably more likely to produce squibs, and they were just as much a waste to have around as muggles. So might as well eradicate them, too.

He sighed at at the thought. Filthy, stupid muggles and muggle lovers. They killed his parents and tortured his brother. He'd never forget the day he received that slab of skin in a box. It wasn't sent to him, of course, it had been sent to their Uncle Rorick. But his uncle had left it abandoned on the table while he went to go to Gringott's and Rabastan would never forget the sight of it, and his heart had sunk at the thought of it, even now. He would never forgive those maniacs for what they'd done to his parents. Of that much in his life he could be sure, but he still wasn't sure if killing them was the right idea.

He pushed open the door to the top of the West Tower, which was usually empty, and narrowed his eyes at the sight of someone else. This room was usually abandoned.

"What are you-" he started to ask a question, taking a few steps further into the room, almost reachingbe the figure before he recognized her. Staring out into the sinking sun she looked almost peaceful. Almost. "Oh, it's you, Potter." he said, annoyed, before re-asking his original question. "What are you doing here?" He took a drag of his cigarette before walking out next to her on the balcony and flicking the finished cigarette off the balcony. He and Sive Potter had never really spoken, but he knew her from Quidditch pitch, and through Pyxis. Well, not really through Pyxis. He just knew Pyxis hung out with her, beyond that the girl was a mystery.

[SIVE ALVAH POTTER]

Sive turned as she heard footsteps, and saw Rabastan Lestrange walk into the tower, a lit cigarette in one hand, and a book in the other. She frowned. All she'd wanted was some peace, some time to herself, and if she had had to pick one person to intrude on that time Rabastan Lestrange would have been very low on the list.

The two of them had never really spoken, but she knew he was friends with Pyxis. Pyxis was her friend, and maybe for that reason Sive should have been warmer towards Lestrange, but that was far from the truth. Pyxis she liked, and since they never talked 'politics', as it were, she was able to overlook their differing beliefs. But Rabastan- in fact both of the Lestranges- made their beliefs clear. They thought that muggles and muggleborns were scum. The Potters were a pureblood family, but before her parents had died they had very clearly aligned themselves with the group calling itself the Order of the Phoenix (although they themselves were not members). Sive and James had followed in their footsteps. The Potters were 'blood traitors', and in some circles that was as bad as being a mudblood.

Sive wondered if Lestrange had picked a side in this war yet, and then realised how stupid that was. He wouldn't need to pick, with him it would be pretty much automatic. He would support the Death Eaters. Maybe even join them himself. Perhaps he had already. That was the thing about a war no one had openly acknowledged yet; you didn't know who you could trust. It lead to panic and confusion everywhere. But even if Rabastan had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters, Sive didn't know how she'd tell. And besides, he wouldn't hurt her, not here. One blood traitor wasn't worth being caught harming a fellow student while still inside Hogwarts.

And on top of all of that, the impression Sive had of Rabastan's character was not a good one. He was sullen, and serious, and arrogant. He thought that to be a Lestrange made you better than everyone else.

He asked her what she was doing here, and Sive scowled.
"You don't own the tower, Lestrange." She replied, her voice cold. The Lestranges thought themselves entitled, but Sive knew exactly where he could shove that attitude. She wasn't going to leave, and let him think he had the run of the place. She had just as much right to be there as he did. The Potters were a wealthy, pureblood family, but you didn't see Sive (or even James) with an entitled attitude, acting like spoiled brats.

He walked over so he was standing next to her, and tossed the end of his fag out over the balcony. Sive remembered how Pyxis said that she could thank Rabastan for her smoking habit, and Sive added it to the list of reasons to dislike Rabastan Lestrange. A good friend shouldn't spread their bad habits.

"What are you doing here?" she shot back at him, eyeing the book in his hand. Irritatingly, both the Lestranges were exceedingly intelligent. Although you wouldn't know it from the way they swaggered around the place.

[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Sive stared at him as he walked to the end of the balcony and tossed his fag off the balcony, scowling at him, telling him he didn't own the balcony. All he could do was smirk at her before letting it grow into a full grin. No, he didn't own the tower, but neither did she. But he wouldn't bother with pointing it out. She could have her angry eyes and her angry words if she wanted to. Though he wasn't entirely sure what he did to make her so angry in the first place. Women.

"Someone's in a good mood. Am I interrupting something?" he asked, a brow raised as he looked around the seemingly abandoned tower, gesturing with the hand that held the book to emphasize the fact that - no, she wasn't doing anything but standing. He wasn't entirely sure what the attitude was, he'd never really had much of conversation with her, so she couldn't hate him for something he'd said or anything like that. Maybe that was just the affect he had on some people. He'd never understand why. Who wouldn't want beauty and intelligence? He smirked at the thought, looking out onto the balcony at the sinking sun. The sky was streaked with red. It almost looked like blood, if you squinted at it properly.

Even the weather seemed to know a war was coming, or happening, or whatever the status of the even was. It was hard to tell from inside the confines of Hogwarts walls, but Rabastan tried his hardest to keep up with the goings on of the Death Eaters, every dead muggle and muggleborn bringing a grin to his face. The war certainly seemed like it had started, but no one at Hogwarts was acknowledging it. Everyone was on edge. Well, not everyone. Rabastan wasn't on the edge about anything. He was stoic and calm as ever, but on the inside he was ecstatic and itching to fight, or duel, or spill blood. He was itching to do something. He never was good at sitting still while things were going on. He was a person of action, and sitting here wasting his time in lessons seemed kind of pointless when he could be helping somehow.

He hadn't realized just how lost in thought he'd been until Sive was saying something to him. He tore his eyes from the blood red sky and turned back to face her, trying to hear what she'd just said. And then he realized she was staring at the book in his hand, and he realized she wanted to know what he was doing here. He smirked. Did she really want to play this game?

"If my memory serves me right, and I know it does, you don't own this tower either, do you Potter?" he grinned cockily at her as he looked at the old spell book in his hand. It was no secret to Slytherins that he liked to practice his own spells and experiment with magic, even though it was likely very much against the rules (but let's be realistic, he didn't actually care). He looked at her before walking back into the tower a bit, and finding a nice place to sit down, letting the silence build between them for a second, to see how awkward it could get. And he was quite sure it could get very, very awkward. But about a minute later he tipped his book away from his face and looked up at her from over the top of it.

"I'm experimenting," he said simply with a grin before looking back down and studying the pages of the aged book once more.

[/blockquote]

[SIVE ALVAH POTTER]

Lestrange pointed out that he wasn't exactly interrupting anything, gesturing around the empty tower to show how painfully obvious that was. His cockiness irritated her, as did the grin on his face. But she wasn't about to tell him why she was here, that she wanted to be alone, that she wanted to think. Her reasons were personal, and Sive didn't want to share anything personal with Rabastan Lestrange.

Sive turned away from him, looking back over the grounds, ignoring him. She tried to pretend he wasn't there, but it was impossible. With him stood there watching her she couldn't get back to the peaceful state she'd been in before. She couldn't think with his eyes on the back of her neck.

And then he spoke, and she turned back to him, frowning slightly. No, she didn't own the tower, and she never claimed that she did. But if Lestrange could ask her what she was doing, then she could ask him right back. Sive pursed her lips, and looked away again, not wanting to reply. She didn't want to give him a rise. No doubt he'd love that.

Lestrange walked away, and for a moment Sive thought hopefully that he was leaving. But no such luck; he found a place to sit, and opened his book. Silence grew between them, and Sive did her best to act as though it didn't bother her at all, as though his presence wasn't making her angrier by the second. She continued to ignore him, looking out over the balcony again, refusing to give in and leave first. She had almost managed to forget he was there- almost- when he spoke again.

"I'm experimenting,"

Sive looked over her shoulder at him, an eyebrow raised. She had a few comebacks she could make about that statement, but she bit them back; that would only leave her open to such comments from him, and that would make her furious.

She watched him for a moment, sat there with his book, a bored expression on her face, before she spoke.
"Looks fascinating."

Sive didn't know what he meant by 'experimenting' exactly, but she didn't think sitting there reading a book was a very exciting experiment. If it had been anyone else, annoying her as Rabastan Lestrange was, she would have asked if the experiment was to see if he was capable of reading, of intelligent thought. But, irritatingly, Lestrange was smart, and everyone knew it. The insult would ring hallow.

[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Sive seemed to be ignoring him for now, which was fine by him. He didn’t need her paying attention to what he was about to do. And for a brief moment as he read over the spells again he wasn’t sure that he should do these with another person around. He looked at her, staring out the window, his brows furrowed. If something were to go wrong he was fine with what would happen to him, but he’d always tried to practice away from other people. He didn’t want them getting hurt for his mistakes. His eyes narrowed slightly as she continued to stand and stare out the window. He wondered if she was pretending he wasn’t there, or if she really didn’t seem to care about whether or not he was there. When he said he was experimenting she turned around and seemed very much like she cared he was there, though he wasn’t sure why.

Sarcasm soaked the words that left her lips next and Rabastan let out a light chuckle before looking up at her, his face very serious. ”This is called reading, Potter. Not experiementing” he said before his eyes read over the two spells one more time before he inhaled and closed the antique book and placed it beside him. He looked at Sive with two raised brows, as if to say ‘this is experimenting.’ He lifted his wand and wordlessly conjured a dummy up. He couldn’t exactly practice on bits and pieces of the castle no matter how badly he may have wanted to. He knew what his limits for practice were. He lifted his wand and stared at the dummy, wordlessly combining the two spells within his head. He stared at the dummy before a jet of dark purple shot from his wand and lifted the dummy from the ground. Thus far the spell was going according to plan. The dummy stayed frozen in the air for a minute before the dummy began to shake and convulse, which was the plan. But it lasted for a few seconds longer than he thought. His brows furrowed together, partly in entertainment, partly in confusion, partly in worried. He wasn’t exactly sure what to feel about this particular experiment. It was supposed to stop convulsing after a few seconds, but the fact that it was lasting longer was bit more entertaining.

But then it caught fire.

And then it exploded, sending shards plastic dummy everywhere.

That hadn’t been in the cards.

It all seemed to happen in a split second. The dummy exploded, Rabastan’s eyes widened as his head jerked toward Sive, acting without a second thought. He moved his wand as swiftly as his head – and it pointed right at her. ”Prote-!” he’d attempted to shout a shield charm, but the air from the blast blew him off his feet. He landed on his back and felt the air get knocked out of his lungs. He stared up at the ceiling, scowling and smiling. That spell had worked so much more intensely than he thought it would, but damn it, Sive better not be hurt or something. He didn’t need her to go to the hospital wing or something, and then they’d find out about his experimenting. It would just be a whole host of trouble that he didn’t need. He pushed himself up on his elbows and started to squint through the smoke.

”You alive, Potter?” he asked, unable to see her through the thick grey smoke that now filled the room. Even he could hear the half-entertainment in his voice as he spoke about what had just transpired.

[/blockquote]

[SIVE ALVAH POTTER]

Rabastan said that he was reading, not experimenting, speaking to her like she was a child he was trying to explain something exceedingly simple then. Which irritated her, because he was the one who'd said he was experimenting.
"Should have said reading then." She said in the same tone, though hers was slightly more mocking.

But she watched as he snapped his book shut, and stood up, apparently about to demonstrate exactly what experimenting was. She was frowning slightly as she watched him, not sure if this was something she wanted to stick around for. What if he blew up the west tower? But she was still determined not to be the one to leave, and despite herself she was curious. What did 'experimenting' entail?

Lestrange conjured a plastic dummy, and Sive's frown deepened. But still she watched. He shot a jet of purple light at its chest, and it rose from the ground, frozen, and hung suspended for a moment, before it began to shake and convulse horribly. Sive watched, disgusted, as Rabastan looked at the convulsing dummy in amusement, but all Sive could picture was a person, hovering above the ground and shaking, convulsing in an inhuman way. And then the fire started, and Sive didn't even have time to be horrified before it exploded.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rabastan turn towards her, point his wand and shout what sounded like the start of a shield charm. But that was absurd. Why would he try to shield her? Surely he'd only care about his own hide. In any case, Sive didn't have time to register exactly what he was doing, never mind make sense of it. She had instinctively crouched down and pulled out her own wand, holding it in front of her and performing a wordless shield charm. The shield erupted in front of her in time that only a few bits of burned plastic got to her, and luckily those missed.

Thick smoke filled the tower, and Sive covered her mouth with the sleeve of her jumper, trying not to cough.

”You alive, Potter?”

Sive heard the amusement in his voice, and it made her furious. He thought this was funny? He thought what had happened to that dummy was entertaining? Would he be just as amused when he used his 'experiments' on a person?

"No thanks to you, Lestrange," she said, standing up and waving her hand in front of her to help clear the smoke. Enough of it had drifted out of the tower now that she could see Lestrange, lying on the floor. He looked like he'd gotten the worst of the blast. Good. "Was that experimenting," she asked, her voice acidic "or practising?"

[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Thick smoke had filled the room and Rabastan coughed lightly as he waited to hear if Sive was indeed alright. He knew that she was smart, so she was probably fine. But if she had been hurt, he didn’t want to have to deal with all that rubbish. He really didn’t need to go explaining what had happened. A spell had backfired, gone wrong – so he’d need to practice it some more until it was just right. He didn’t need people catching fire and exploding, though that was a pretty interesting touch. It could have been worse, he supposed. The part of him that was frustrated the most was that he wasn’t able to control it. It had backfired, and he didn’t act fast enough to control it or stop it, and while he loved experimental magic, he didn’t exactly want to blow anyone up during a friendly duel. That would just be incredibly messy and depressing. Not to mention troublesome. Murder wasn’t something he really wanted on his hands, not the murder of anyone he was dueling for fun, anyway.

He was torn from his thoughts of how he couldn’t use this in a dueling match by Sive’s irritated voice, saying she was alive no thanks to him. He rolled his eyes as he searched the room for her once more, thankful the smoke had all started to billow out of the open balcony. He coughed once more before moving to his knees and rising fully to his feet.

”I tried,” Rabastan muttered only half under his breath, so he knew Sive heard it perfectly well, and he had tried to protect her. If she hadn’t been in here in the first place he wouldn’t have had to worry about it, would he? He opened his mouth to say as much when her question caught him slightly off guard.

”Was that experimenting or practicing?”

Her voice was cold and angry. So the little ion was angry that he’d blown up the dummy, was she? He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. He took a few steps closer to her to be able to see her better, a screen of grey smoke still filling the room, though it was diminishing by the second.

”Experimenting,” he insisted firmly, before gesturing to the bits of burnt dummy around them. ”Or did you not notice that it went wrong? That’s why I was laughing, Potter; I screwed up. Believe it or not I’m not above messing up a spell or two, though it’s nice of you to think of me as that good.” he said, knowing he was only getting further and further under her skin. But he couldn’t help it. What business was it of hers what he did with his life anyway?

”I happen to like surprising my dueling opponent when I can,” he said, only half lying, his eyes narrowed as he swished his wand and the dummy was put back together just as it had been. It was still charred black, and there was a part of his stomach that churned slightly at the sight. He had a momentary flashback of his brother’s slab of skin in a box, his parents being buried, those maniacs that had killed his parents. His blood ran hot as he stared at the dummy, wondering if his sadistic tortures made him any better than them. He didn’t want to know the answer.

He looked away from it and stared out at the sun which was almost buried below the trees. He inhaled through his nose, the smell of smoke and burned things still prevalent in the air and pushed those thoughts far from his mind. He didn’t need to think about his parents right now. Or ever. It would only make him angry, and he was already sullen enough.

"Why do you care what it was anyway?" he asked, his eyes moving to her rather than the grounds, the smoke completely gone from the room now. Aside from the burnt dummy, you'd never know what had just taken place.

[/blockquote]

[SIVE ALVAH POTTER]

Sive frowned yet again as Rabastan said that he'd 'tried'. So he'd tried to shield her, then? She wasn't so sure if she believed that. What reason would a Lestrange have to shield a Potter? Sive had had six years of the Lestranges making it very clear what they thought of muggles and muggleborns, and blood traitors like her. She wasn't about to forget all of that in a hurry.

He walked towards her, and Sive stood her ground. The smoke was clearing now, and she could see him glaring down at her. He insisted that it had been an experiment, not a practice. That was why he had been laughing. He tried to justify himself to her, but Sive wasn't so sure. Still, she believed that he hadn't meant for that to happen. He wouldn't have blown up the the dummy like that on purpose, at least not with himself in the room. Sive kept her face blank as he mocked her, but inside she was raging. She did't want to give him any reaction, but his tone did nothing to calm her mood. Sive had always had a hot and ready temper, and right now she was trying her hardest to contain it.

Sive looked at the bits of dummy strewn across the floor as Lestrange said that he liked to surprise his opponent whenever possible.
"Surprise..." she said, quietly. He waved his wand, and the charred pieces of dummy sprang back together again, but the sight was far from comforting. The dummy was charred, black lines outlining where it had split into pieces.

"Why do you care what it was anyway?"

Sive looked at Rabastan, then back at the dummy. It was blackened in a sickening way, and she couldn't stop thinking about how it had convulsed horribly.
"Some of us care." She said, her voice low but with an edge. Her parents had cared. That was why they were 'blood traitors' in the eyes of the Lestranges.

Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange had never hidden their beliefs. Like most Slytherins they thought themselves above everyone else, but they took their pureblood elitism to a whole other level. Sive didn't know why they hated muggles and muggleborns (or 'mudbloods' as they called them) with such a passion, but they did. She wondered if they needed a reason? Years ago everyone had known that there were people with these beliefs, but it was kept much more quiet. But recently, with the rise of a dark wizard proclaiming himself a Lord, and his followers gaining in strength, people were becoming more and more outspoken in their beliefs. And the Lestranges hated muggles, mudbloods, and those who supported them, the 'muggle-lovers'. Worst of these were the blood-traitors, those with pure blood who chose to 'dirty' themselves. Before they died, the Potters had been very outspoken about siding with the Order. They thought it was important that pureblood families be seen to support the Order's cause, rather than the Death Eaters. They had to show that it wasn't an 'us and them' situation. Not all purebloods wanted muggles eradicated. The Potters were one of the biggest blood-traitor families of the lot.

So Sive didn't trust Rabastan one bit, because she knew that he'd hate her. If he could hate muggleborns for their parents, he could hate Sive for hers. Before her parents had died Sive might have been more forgiving of Rabastan, less quick to judge, more willing to understand. But things were different now. Her world had grown colder, and there was a war upon them.

She glared at him, her defences fully up. If her parents were 'blood traitors' then Sive was a blood traitor and proud. She wouldn't give Rabastan Lestrange so much as an inch. Let him hate her. She didn't know why he had tried to shield her, and she didn't care. She was sure there was some motive for it. All she expected from the boy in front of her was hate, and she was ready for it.

[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Rabastan watched as Sive looked between him and the charred dummy as she thought up a response. It was really none of her business as to what he did in his free time and whether or not it involved practice or experimenting or eating blood cake. What he did with his time was none of her business. He regretted even performing the stupid spell in the first place. Well, at least he regretted it performing it in front of the likes of her. He kept his experiments private for exactly this reason. It was no one’s business but his own.

His temper was rising by the second and the next words that left Sive’s lips had him at the edge of his patience with her attitude. She was just as cocky and convinced she was better than him as he was convinced he was better than her. But she thought she was better than him because of her bloody morals, sympathizing with the likes of mudbloods and halfbloods and the entire lot. She thought. Oh yes, some of them cared. He knew exactly how much some of them cared. He clenched his jaw as he stared at her, his eyes narrowed, his heart beating hard inside of his chest. Some of them cared about as much as the death eaters and stooped to precisely the same levels, or worse.

”I’m well aware of how much some of you blood traitors care about your precious mudbloods, Potter, trust me. And don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t use something like that on likes of you anyway. So you don’t have to worry about it,” he said bitterly as his thoughts wandered back to the night his Uncle Rorick received that stupid box, and the letter that changed his and Rodolphus’ life forever. His parents were dead. His brother was being held captive, physically tortured. Rabastan would never forget the anger that he felt that night, but more important than that he would never forget the fear he felt that night, and he promised himself he’d not let muggleborns ever frighten him that way again.

He knew the lengths that some muggleborns and blood traitors would go to weaken the purebloods and he knew it all too well. They were just as bad as he himself, and he looked at Sive for a moment wondering if she would go to those lengths. He didn’t have to ask, he knew she would. She was a powerful witch and it was no secret what side of the upcoming war her parents had been on. Order of the Phoenix until the day they died. And only then did it click that, while they lost their parents in two completely different ways, they were still orphans at the end of the day. He wondered if she was still sad about her parents, but it was a fleeting thought and disappeared as quickly as it had come. Why should he care about her anyway?

Instead, he turned his head to the conversation at hand. ”I know the lengths that some of you will go to to protect your mudblood friends all too well, Potter. And I bet you don’t even know the half of it.”

[/blockquote]

[SIVE ALVAH POTTER]

Lestrange said that he wouldn't use his spell on her, anyway, and Sive's temper flared. That was as good as a threat, as far as she was concerned.
"You'd never get the chance," she spat out, her hand twitching towards her pocket, where she had stowed her wand. But it was a reflex, nothing more. She wasn't about to attack him. She wasn't like that, not like the Death Eaters. They attacked because they felt entitled. And that was the group that the boy in front of her had allied himself with. She would act to defend herself, or maybe give Rabastan a good hex if he really pissed her off. Nothing too serious, just a gentle reminder that she wasn't going to take his rubbish. Sive was a fair person, and she hated any kind of injustice. And the way the likes of the Lestranges were treating the muggleborns was unjust. Anyone could see that. They wanted genocide. They wouldn't be allowed to have it.

She glared up at him as he continued, wanting very much to leave but refusing to back down. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Rabastan Lestrange was cocky enough to think that if she left, he had won. He said that he knew the lengths 'her kind' went to to defend muggleborns. She didn't know what 'her kind' was exactly, unless he meant 'blood-traitors'. Maybe he meant the Order, but she wasn't a member, he must know that.
"They wouldn't need to be defended, if your kind had a shred of humanity," she said in retort. He had gotten in her face, so she got in his. She wanted to hit him, or shove him, but she restrained herself. "You think you're better than everyone else, and that's all you care about. All you care about is yourselves. What lengths do we go to, exactly? The Death Eaters are killing people, its in the news every day!" That was 'his kind', wasn't it? He'd as good as told her that.

[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Sive said that he’d never get the chance to use that spell on her and he just raised a slight brow. Was that a challenge? Or an invitation? Rabastan was never one to pass up a good opportunity for a duel, but fighting Sive didn’t really seem very worth it. One of them would undoubtedly end up in the hospital wing at the rate their tempers were rising, and that wouldn’t be worth it either. While he loved winning more than a lot of other things he wasn’t about to put him in harm’s way, and he believed that, if given the chance, Sive could and would very much hurt him. But he remained silent, watching as she grew angrier by the second, and then she was in his face, telling him how he didn’t have a shred of humanity. But she was pushing all of his buttons, and they weren’t any of the good ones, either.

”Please, tell me, if I don’t have a shred of humanity than why did I try and shield you instead of me when that bloody thing exploded?” he said gesturing toward the charred dummy, only causing him to regret ever conjuring that stupid spell in the first place. And it didn’t help that she was in his face now and they seemed to be getting closer by the second, their tempers and defenses high. Her eyes were narrowed at him as she continued talking about how ‘his kind’ were killing every day and it was in the news, and that was it. She had gone too far. He stared at her for a moment, silent, willing away the want to hex her into tomorrow. His kind weren’t the only ones capable of killing and torture, but everyone made it seem that way, didn’t they? Everyone made it seem like the big bad death eaters were the only ones capable of death. They were so incredibly, infuriatingly wrong and then the words left his mouth before he even realized what he was saying.

”I know what the Death Eaters do, but nobody bothers to repot the other side of it do they, Potter?! No, no one cares about the pureblood family that was murdered and tortured by muggle fanatics. Nobody ever bloody mentions them! They killed my parents and bloody tortured my brother. How would you like it if you received an owl telling you’re your parents were murdered accompanied by a box containing a slab of your brother’s skin?You wouldn’t like those people very much, would you?! So don’t tell me that the death eaters are so terrible when there are people out there for the other side who are just as bad or worse,” he practically spat at her, his voice low and dangerous. He felt anger welling up inside every part of him, his blood turning hot. His hand tightened on his wand but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t hex her. He wouldn’t bring himself to start that fight. He could be the one to finish it, sure, but he wouldn’t start it.

He stared at her for a moment before moving so their faces were only inches apart, his eyes boring into hers.

”You think you’re so high and mighty because you defend them, but your side is no less vicious than mine, Sive. And whether you want to believe it or not there are some of us that have justifiable reasons for hating mudbloods.” he said, clenching his jaw as his heart beating heavy and quickly in his chest. Did he really just admit all of that to Sive Potter? He felt slight embarrassment swallow him whole at the fact that he’d told her about his parents, about his own bother. Rodolphus would kill him when he found out about this. He his face away from hers and took a few steps toward the balcony, leaning against the small doorway. He ran a hand through his hair angrily. He was such a moron. How could he have told her all of that?

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[SIVE ALVAH POTTER]

Rabastan brought up the fact that he had tried to shield Sive when the dummy exploded, and she wished she hadn't, because she didn't feel as though she had a good enough answer.
"Because you didn't want to get in trouble if I got hurt," she replied, her voice strong and sure even though she wasn't. He had had a split second to try and cast that shield charm, and that was quite the rationalisation to make in such a short time. But she wasn't going to be stupid enough to believe he wanted to protect her. She wasn't a child. Not everyone was good.

And when he started ranting she was more than prepared to shout right back at him, but then his words started to sink in and she realised what he was saying. He said that there were people on her side who were worse than the Death Eaters, and then he started talking about how his parents had been killed. Sive knew the older Lestranges were dead, but she hadn't known how. She had never given it any thought. It seemed that once Rabastan started he couldn't stop, and he asked her how she'd feel if someone murdered her parents, and sent her a slab of James' skin in a box. She shuddered at the thought. It was bad enough her parents had been dead, but to know they had been murdered...

Sive felt herself begin to understand Rabastan Lestrange, and shut it down quickly. She wouldn't understand, because understanding was the first step to justifying, and there was no justification for what the Death Eaters did. And he was wrong. She wasn't sided with those muggle-fanatic groups that had had a short lived rise almost a decade ago. The Order was nothing to do with them, and besides, those groups were scattered in the wind. Rabastan had decided to make himself just as bad as they were, and side with the Death Eaters.

He walked over to the balcony, and Sive turned to watch him. When he spoke next he used her first name, and it felt too personal, like he was getting under her skin.

"And whether you want to believe it or not there are some of us that have justifiable reasons for hating mudbloods."

"No," she said, firmly, refusing to accept that. "You're wrong. Its not either pureblood killers or Death Eaters, you had a choice! And the Muggleborns didn't do that to your family, it was one group of people!" He couldn't justify the genocide of a whole group of people by the actions of a small handful, years ago.

[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Sive spat out that he had tried to protect her because he didn't want to get in trouble if she got hurt, and he felt himself give a short laugh. It sounded so childish, so first-year, and it was hardly the truth. Well, it was half the truth. He hadn't wanted to be in trouble if she'd gotten hurt, but he generally didn't want to hurt her either. He couldn't care less if he injured himself, but if something were to go terribly wrong he wouldn't want anyone to be there but himself. He was a man enough to know that you didn't bring other people down with you. He clenched his jaw slightly before he looked at her again.

"There's a reason I practice my experiments alone. And it's so no one else gets hurt. Next time I'll not bother trying if you'd prefer it that way," he said before turning back to face the sun, which was almost completely gone now. So he stood there, continuing to beat himself up for telling Sive Potter what had happened to his parents. Part of him hoped that maybe it would give her some insight, get her to at least partially understand what had happened, why he held the beliefs he did. If only she knew that he didn't really believe eradicating the muggleborns was the right thing to do. Not entirely, anyway. He hated them, sure, but did killing your own kind ever make sense? There was a part of him that said no every time. It was something that had clicked with Rodolphus long ago that never seemed to quite click with him.

And then Sive was telling him he was wrong again, how muggleborns hadn't done that to his parents, that it was one group of people. She told him that he had a choice and he whirled around to face her, his face contorted in confusion, his face solemn and serious. He stared at her for a moment. They were the same in some ways, both orphans, both hot-headed and stubborn. And yet they were so incredibly different. He took a few steps closer to her, looking at her in the eyes. They'd be pretty if she wasn't so angry. In fact, now that he looked at her with the idea in mind, she was pretty. But he buried those thoughts.

There was something inside him that wasn't angry anymore. He wasn't in the mood to yell anymore. Maybe it was because he brought up his parents. Maybe it's because talking with her and the thought of choice dredged up a whole host of other issues he was facing. And then he said it. He said the words he'd been thinking but too uncomfortable to say for quite some time.

"I still have a choice," he said simply, his voice low and quiet as he stared at her. He hoped those words would sink in somewhere. Whether he wanted them to sink in for himself or for her he wasn't quite sure. There was something about saying those words out loud that scared him slightly. Because logically it went against everything he'd ever been taught.

He knew how Rodolphus felt about everything, and he knew that family was everything to his older brother. If he'd ever went against him his family would fall apart entirely, and there was almost no doubt in his mind that Rodolphus might actually try and kill him. They were raised to be bigots and hate other people, and the people he was raised to hate didn't exactly give them a reason to like them what with the torture of his brother and the killing of his parents. And while he could hate whoever he wanted, the idea of killing off people who can do magic never made 100% sense to him.

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[SIVE ALVAH POTTER]

At her words Rabastan turned around, and walked a few steps closer to her. She didn't know what he was doing, and Sive had half a mind to turn around and leave now. A large part of her wanted to. But she was too stubborn, and would wait until she could leave without making it look like a retreat. Talking with him, especially about dead parents, had her back up. It was a sure way to make her defensive, put her on her guard. The place where her parents had been was still soft, tender, vulnerable. And she didn't trust Rabastan Lestrange.

"I still have a choice,"

His voice was quiet, low, and he looked at her as though willing her to understand. He still had a choice... so he hadn't joined the Death Eaters, then. Sive knew that once you joined you couldn't back out. She didn't know how to test him on his statement, though. For all she knew he could be lying. She wondered if Pyxis knew the truth. Sive knew that the Death Eaters distinguished themselves with some identifying mark, but she didn't know what that was. If the Ministry had that information, it hadn't been made public yet. And surely if they knew how to identify the Death Eaters they would have told the wider community.

But either way, Sive believed him. He wasn't claiming to be on her side, if anything his words condemned him more. Becoming a Death Eater was a choice for him. She didn't see why he'd lie to her. He looked at her, and seemed wounded, somehow. And with everything he'd told her about his parents, and his brother, she could see why. But she was too filled with fire to feel sympathy for him. And besides, she didn't think Rabastan Lestrange wanted her pity.

"Then make the right one," she replied, her voice still hard. Was he so filled with hate that he wanted to hurt people for what had happened to him? Was he really that cold? Sive tugged slightly at the ends of the sleeves of her jumper, and took a slight step backwards, crossing her arms across herself, suddenly feeling cold.

"Why do you care that I know that?" she asked, her arms still tightly crossed, a large part of her wanting to disappear down the staircase, but not quite able to leave well enough alone. "Why do you care what a blood-traitor thinks?" In his eyes she knew she was as bad as those mudbloods he wanted to badly to eradicate.