Nothing Good Comes From 3 AM (Rodolphus)

Rodolphus had difficulty turning his brain off. While it was usually traversing through thoughts such as naked women and what booze he should request next from Joram, his mind was always go, go go. Advance, never retreat. He'd always been that way, even as a child. It was also partly due to the fact that he had trouble sitting still for more than five minutes. Sleep was always a taxing endeavor for him, one that he dreaded and frequently neglected. This probably explained why he strongly preferred to shag in his bed rather than sleep in it. He was not unaccustomed to staying up to the wee hours of the morning, energetic and sleep-deprived. That was why he was in the Slytherin common room now whilst all the other students were fast asleep.

He was staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace, inhaling and exhaling deep and steady breaths. Unlike his usual self, he was considerably serious tonight. Lately, a lot had been bringing him down, and ever since Bellatrix had wrangled him into taking her to the Fall Formal, he'd been in a foul mood. He loathed Bellatrix more than he could possibly say. She was infuriating, impossible, volatile, and and, frankly, disturbing. He could hardly be in the same room with her without wanting to gnaw his insides. The worst part was, that she had beaten him today. For the first time, they had gone to battle and she had left the victor. It was more than he could take. What he would have done for a good shag right about then.

Well, hello. Rod was surprised to see the middle Black sister there, practically in her knickers. Or so Rod wished, anyway. All the Black girls were beautiful, that couldn't be denied, and each in their own way; Bellatrix with her regal allure, Andromeda and her feminine charm, and Narcissa with her stoic elegance. They were the envy of every teenage girl. And boy, for that matter. Suddenly then, an idea planted itself in Rod's mind. Nighttime had a way of doing that to him. He was always at his most brilliant when the sun had gone down. Rubbing his palms together, Rod stood, cocking his head to the side. Eyeing the lovely brunette with a smug smirk on his face, Rod replied casually, "Getting all hot and bothered by the thought of you, love." Bellatrix had bested him this one time, but that would be it. Imagine. Imagine if he was able to get in between the legs of Andromeda Black, by far the black sheep of the three girls. He could already see the contorted look of disgust on Bellatrix's face. He needed that look more than anything. He wanted to make her hurt.

What had once been a simple evening in front of the fire had now turned into something else entirely. What that was, Rodolphus still wasn't exactly sure. He'd spent the last couple of hours milling about the Slytherin common room listlessly; he'd flipped absent-mindedly through a novel before closing it shut shortly after. Then he'd begun to organize his mail which was rapidly becoming a leaning tower of parchment and shredded envelopes. That hadn't last long. He tried taking a nap, failed, and in the end, settled on relaxing in front of the fire. There was something about the midnight hour and the crackling flames that made the bolts and knots in his brain tick. Overall, it'd been a rather dull affair. As his eyes settled upon the lithe, withdrawn figure of his future sister-in-law, though, Rod knew it would be something worth remembering.

The Lestranges had known the Black family for Merlin knew how long. They were bosom buddies, you might say. In cahoots, always in the know with each other. A marriage between him and Bellatrix had been inevitable, to say the least. However, as many functions, and dinners, and Quidditch matches he'd attended with the Black family, he hardly knew a thing about Andromeda. They'd never done much talking and frankly, really never had a reason to. He'd known her for as long as she'd been alive, but their conversations were always polite pleasantries, nothing more. He was well aware that she was close with his brother Rabastan. Far closer than he was, he could admit. In any case, she had struck him as the most wholesome of the three of them. An excellent student, girlishly charming. If there was anyone that would submit to her family's wishes, it would be her. Family loyalty ran as thick as blood.

Looking at her now, he could see how strikingly different she was from Bellatrix and Narcissa. Bellatrix with her air of darkness. Narcissa and her cold elegance. But Andromeda. There was something... safe about her, as if she were some caged songbird waiting to be set free. He could understand that feeling. He imagined any pure-blood witch or wizard could. There was never a life more stifling than the life of the elite aristocracy and the children they bore.

She stood awkwardly in front of him, arms folded, avoiding his stare. Why did she look so uncomfortable? Even her subsequent sarcasm just seemed like a defense mechanism. Merlin, did Bellatrix really talk that badly about him? It was time to put that stupid bitch in her place. Rod pouted his lips in mock disappointment. "Aw. Do I strike you as someone who gets hexed often?" Brief pause. "Actually, don't answer that." Laughing at his own joke, he reclined deeper into the leather sofa. He crossed his arms over his chest and decided that if there was anyone that could break down those walls of hers, it was him.

"I could ask you the same thing, pet. You as restless as I am? Or... was something else on your mind?" He raised a brow, wondering earnestly what is was that had brought this goody goody out of her safe, warm bed. Though his questions in themselves sounded sincere enough, Rod's expression was that of a hungry animal. Rod's lips pulled back in a smile, revealing his white teeth. They might as well have been fangs. "Hm. I can think of other ways you can help me." came his reply, smooth as honey. Yes, Andromeda Black would be his magic carpet to Bellatrix's misery.