My Sanity On The Funeral Pyre (Rabastan)

[integra echoes]

Integra carefully made her way into the room. Contrary to most days, Integra seemed rather quiet. Stumbling over her own feet, a bottle of booze in her hand, the slender Slytherin girl pushed her hair out of her face and held the wall for balance. She was piss ass drunk, and thankful she was wearing more clothing than normal as she'd have been falling out of her top.

Breathing she made her way to the couch. Though the poor girl never made it. Laying on the cool floor of the common room, she closed her eyes. The bottle had smashed in her hand when she dropped it on her way to the floor. Muttering something to herself, she felt a lack of motivation to even bother trying to move. If she was going to barf she'd just as well have done it here. But she hadn't drank nearly enough to make her sick. Integra could hold her alcohol and hold it well. Closing her eyes she drifted off a little though not entirely passing out.

Screams of terror surrounded them. Her parents were standing in the yard of their house. Yelling up at the windows and flinging hexes at passers by. It was during a tiff with another family like theirs. Families who believed in dark magic and a supreme race. Integra was up in her room with a dark man behind her. She wasn't afraid though. "You're an idiot if you think my mother and father won't get you." A good few curses had been shot her direction. Some missed, some hit the 14 year old girl home for a holiday square in the chest.

Opening her eyes she spied a pair of boots in front of her. They smelled of fine leather and she blinked her hazy eyes to better see the owner of such boots. It was no use though her eyes were too bleary from insanity, exhaustion, and a fair dose of alcohol to be able to make out the face above her. "I'm sorry....But..." Getting to her elbows she watched the room sway a little and sank back to the floor on the toe of one boot, grasping the ankle, and groaned.

[rabastan lestrange]

It was a cold day and he had just gotten back from holidays, after all you could only stand the Lestrange family for so long until you've had your fill. Atleast that was easy for him to say, he had to deal with them his entire life, more or less live with them, not deal. Interesting stories always pass through the grape vine. Stories of You-Know-Who, recent missions, killings. It was all fun and games to listen, but for the, still student at Hogwarts, he wanted more action. Rabastan was a 'do-gooder' by his means. His family served the Dark Lord faithfully, and he even more so when he was out of the ruddy school.

He loved listening to stories of Rodolphus' and Bellatrix's endevours, and to be blunt he was extremely jealous. Wanting to be out of this school before anything big happened, and he was stuck in the confines of these walls. Muttering the password to the wall, it turned, creaked and opened, the smell of alcohol was abundant in his nose, and he turned away scrunching his scruffy cheeks at the stench. Rabastan should of been used to the smell by now, parties were easy to come by at home, or any of the followers homes, and there usually was some sort of alcoholic beverage, or someone who reeked of it.

Coming more toward the center of the room, once he had gotten ahold of himself, and was able to tolerate the deadly perfume, he came to a woman laying out cold in the middle of the floor, clearly one who couldn't make it to the couch. It moved, the unconsious corpse moved and looked at him, giving him enough time to scoff at a pitiful excuse of a pureblood. Hands wrapped around his ankle, and it groaned. There was one thing he didn't like, and that was people who couldn't control their intake, let alone make it to a bed so they don't look like a pile of muggle rubbish.

At first it was difficult for him to make out the disasterpiece, then it became clear to him. Obviously he has seen this girl around school, but he never paid much mind to her. Rab pulled his foot free, and moved to sit in one of the chairs, trying to think how to best handle this situation. Of course there were many things he could do, but most of them weren't meant to be on school property. Looking around he realized that he was alone in the common room with garbage. Not really knowing what to say he shook his head and reached for a random book that was sitting on a small table next to the chair.

Fingering the pages, Rab's eyes scanned the room over the brim of the book and shook his head once more. Trying to formulate the words, so he wouldn't sound like an idiot, was harder than he thought. He's never really had to deal with drunkards, the way he's handled it in the past was to get up and go to his room, but this was the common room, and the girl was probably lucky that he found her, instead of somebody else. Rabastan never held and interest in women, he never had a reason to, and this was no exception. Why on earth would he wish to be whisked away by a women whose passed out on the common room floor, with glass surrounding, doused in alcohol? Though he could easily take advantage of her, it wasn't in his nature. Rab always enjoied a fair fight, if she could barely lift her head to look at him, he shouldn't even be paying attention to her.

[integra echoes]

When the book moved from her grip she sighed and lay there for a while. God she wished she had more control of herself. Wincing a little on the floor, Integra felt her stomach knot up a little and then release. She breathed for a little while just laying on the floor. Sobriety was creeping back to her slowly. Thank goodness. She wasn't sure how long she'd been gone or if she'd passed out and took a nap anywhere a long the way. It didn't seem that unlikely. Cursing at herself she ran a hand over her eye. She was usually so very good at holding her alcohol. Not on bad nights though. Some nights the memories were too fresh.

Even for a dark hearted girl, a well aimed cruciatus curse doesn't go forgotten. She'd been tortured until her parents burst into the room. The man had done evil things to her. Evil even by muggle standards. But that which didn't kill a person made them stronger. Or it made them mad. In her case the man had crucioed her into a lulled sense of insanity.

Some nights were better than that though. But this was no such night. Her mind was addled tonight, with a madness that most men ran from. Alcohol just seemed to make the madness a little easier to deal with. Integra didn't like feeling out of control and sometimes the darkness in her mind made her feel like she was at the mercy of her own insanity. The feeling of self betrayal always came to the tormented girl.

As the other occupant of the slytherin's dungeon common room, moved away and sat himself in a chair near by Integra breathed a little and closed her bleary eyes. Her head hurt. A lot actually. She could swear she heard boars squeeling and dying somewhere. But figured that was just a fragment of her imagination, rattling around far in the distance of her mind.

It was tough but the girl pulled her weak limbs under her and sat there for a second on all fours, her dark hair hung around her face in long waves. It was actually rather soft. As was her skin. Contrary to popular belief not everything about the girl was rough and scaly. With a groan she sat back on her ass. Her hand stung. She'd pushed her palm into the shattered glass on the floor. Looking at the blood dripping from her hand she winced. "Son of a bitch..." She looked up at the boy. Now that her eyes were focusing a little better she could see that he was in fact, Rabastan Lestrange. Perfect. "Oh...Fuck." It could have been anyone else in the world!! But Rabastan!! Integra had held both the Lestrange boys in the highest regards. They came from a powerful family. And Integra's mother often asked her why she didn't settle down with Rabastan, considering she'd missed her chance with Rhodolphus. She'd always just brushed her mother off and ignored her. But part of what she said made sense. Staring at the boy she held her breath, before looking down at her palm and carefully picking out bits of glass bottle.

[rabastan lestrange]

Watching with slight interest Rabastan seemed to stare on at the situation, occasionally looking at the words on the pages, Potions, oh joyous occasion. Granted the pages were littered with first year rubbish, he crossed his ankle over his other knee and held the hardbound in place. Movement caught his eye and he sighed, now he would have to deal with her. There was a sense of pride being a Slytherin, and one should not take it to lightly. You're mingled with other purebloods, highest on the scale, and you're meant to uphold certian silent rules. The majority of what Ms. Echoes was breaking. Rab, on the occasion, drank, but he didn't get drunk in the least, no he couldn't hold his alcohol well, but he managed maybe one drink a night, just enough to get him to feel good.

She was now sitting up and bleeding, and he couldn't care any less. It was her fault she was in this mess, and that mess was her responsibility to clean up. Lifting the book up again to cover his eyes he flipped through the first year nonsense. He was more skilled than any first year, and if she was going to give him lip about what he was reading, he would either bust her lip or tell her that he was brushing up on different types of concocctions used. No need to feel ashamed, at wanting something to be more skilled at. There comes a time when memory begins to fad anf you need to regain that knowledge, and his mind was something he for sure did not want to lose.

It wasn't the fact that she was drunk and laying on the floor that bothered him, it was more or less the fact that she clearly lost control of herself, and wasn't even able to make it look like she was napping. Rabastan knew younger students who had more self awarness than this sleeze, and of course he had seen her before, in her muggle like get up. In his opinion, it was hard to have respect for someone when they didn't respect themselves. Galavanting down the halls in slim to nothing was means for disapproval, and she had been marked on his list many times before. Not only on one incident.

Raising an eyebrow as she spoke he took in a breath. Lovely language from someone who is supposed to be pure. It's no wonder why she was still single, it's not like anyone was able to touch her, granted she might have more diseases than a Nundu. He for one didn't want near her, so when she spoke he continued to look at the book he had laid out on his lap. If he wanted to be left alone, he could of stood up, walked over to the boys dorm, open the door, step in and closed it, but he didn't.

It was his first night back to Hogwarts, and a rather disgraceful one at that, but he was able to relax for once and not listen to, 'dark lord this, dark lord that,' to be blunt the sounds of the sleeze was music to his ears. Not that he didn't mind talk about the dark lord rising to power, but it got old when that was all there was talk about, but he didn't like to talk anyway, silence could be golden, but when you got him going, someone may hope for a silencing charm.

[integra echoes]

The glass stung but Integra couldn't feel it. Closing her eyes she sighed and pulled out a little shard and took the bandanna out of her back pocket. Pressing it to her palm she looked up at Rabastan and held her jaw tight. Stupid men. Looking sideways she looked for something to say. For once in her entire life Integra Echoes.... was speechless. This pissed her off.

She sat there for a while contemplating what to do. And as she didn't care much for the feeling of healing charms, (they made her feel numb and as we all know, Integra has control issues) she needed to wrap up the cut. She did the best she could for a while. Sitting there ignoring him almost entirely, she turned to the mess on the floor. Fuck. If it was found she was liable to get into trouble. Removing her wand from her pocket she flicked it at the mess lazily and it swept itself up into a little pile, then swept itself into a corner of a broom closet with an already present pile of rubbish and mouse turds.

All that she needed now was to tie off the bandanna. She attempted to use her wand but the ends wouldn't stay put long enough for her to tie them and the task was just all together a difficult thing to achieve with only one hand. Maybe if she were in her right mind she could manage it, but she wasn't. Looking up at the long haired boy perched in the seat she drew in a breath and held it for a long time. Licking her lips she really didn't want to say anything stupid, but knew that with the way her mind was today something definitely insane was going to come out. Not to mention she'd be asking for help. Which she REALLY didn't want to do.

"Odontophobia is the fear of ....teeth." She'd paused to swallow before finishing the sentence then sighed. Looking flustered and irritated all together Integra shook her head and let out a little growl. Usually in front of anyone else she'd laugh and say something like "It's good I don't have it because that would keep me from pulling yours out with pliers then using them to make a new charm bracelet!" It was a fearsome thing to say but usually when her insanity made her say stupid things, she covered it up by saying something sinister and threatening. This instance however did not provide her much of a chance for that as she really didn't want to say anything of the sort to him.

Holding in another breath she scrambled for something different to say. "Oh Christ....I..." She stared at him helplessly. This was....awkward and extremely uncomfortable for her. Her brain wasn't working on her side right now. Growling and clenching her teeth she held out her half bandaged hand to him. Swallowing she opened her mouth once more "According to suicide statistics, Monday is the favored day for self-destruction. Also...Cats sleep 16 to 18 hours per day." She cringed as she spoke and then just hung her head and fell silent.

[rabastan lestrange]

His eyes scanned the pages, hoping that she would just get up and leave this place, go to her dorm room, but it seemed that his wishes were going to go unanswered. Watching her pulling out the shards made him smile. One would think he was a vampire, the way he ogled her blood, but Rabastan was a different sort of monster. As she pulled the bandana out of her pocket, he began to realize that she may of been coming to her senses. Though that was a long shot. As he watched the scene he began to feel uncomfortable only to notice that she, too, was looking at him. Slowly lowering his eyes to the book he flipped the page carefully, as not to seem to rash. Was he irritated? Of course he was! Why in all hells would a Slytherin be acting openly ridiculous? It made him extremely angry, he was not fond of losing self control, especially in such a 'public' place. Other Slytherin's could of moved in and out of the common room, watching her, witnessing her movements. It was to his surprise that this woman had any friends to begin with.

Ears perked up as she began to clean the mess and he nodded involuntarily, catching his movement he turned the page again, hummed lightly as if understanding what the pages were telling him. It was painfully obvious she was attempting to ignore him, but that only pushed his curiosity forward more. The Lestrange brother's were notorious in the Slytherin house, it only made slight sense, she was embarrassed for Rabastan finding her. It clicked, he was fully aware that he was, in truth embarrassed to witness a Slytherin acting without thought. That had to be it, but no, there was something more and the poor boy couldn't place his fingers on.

Interest was peaked when she attempted to tie the bandana around her hand. Now the thought crossed his mind, why didn't she just mend her skin, for a seventh year it shouldn't be to hard. Hell, even a sixth year could mend minor cuts. It wasn't that big of a deal, she didn't really need the bandana in the first place, all you would need to worry about was disease, and even Rabastan knew some of the most common spells and brews to mend and possibly stop disease, not to difficult, but he wasn't about to reveal his knowledge on the subject. The entire school knew how successful he was in Potions, in fact he was a favored tutor for the Slytherin house, only on that subject.

Raising an eyebrow he looked at the girl and sighed. What was it she just said, she was completely out of her mind, but Rabastan knew the correct come back, but instead he held his tongue, he would rather not speak to this woman. Though her hair was as dark as midnight....no he couldn't think of that now, he couldn't give in, if attention was what she wanted, he was definitely going to 'attempt' to play hard to get. She growled, how....lady like, the thought crossed his mind, but he tried to reason with himself. Ravenous...that was a good word to describe what he say. It was also common knowledge that Slytherin's are power hungry, that's just a given though, after all the majority of them are Pure bloods, if not all of them.

She was now staring at him, and without thought he put the book aside, only a few seconds later to think it stupid. He shouldn't of given into Integra, but her eyes...no he couldn't think of that either, she was a disgrace, and embarrassment, a rancid disease. What interesting things to say, but he didn't know how to respond to that. Leaning forward in his chair he studied the girl. Resting his elbows on his knees, Rabastan laid his eyes into her, bringing his hands to his chin, he contemplated what to say, but instead he was leaning forward, judging her. "I wouldn't help you if you were the last woman in this world." The words rolled off of his tongue as if it were something he would casually say to any one else, but instead of stopping, getting up and walking away, Rabastan continued. "You disgust me, and make me embarrassed to be called a Slytherin. These are a few reasons I would of much rather been sent to Durmstrang."

Leaning back into the plush of the chair he moved his hand over to the table, grabbing the same book again, vaguely remembering where he left off. Irritated he couldn't handle the words that slipped out of his lungs. Even deeply he realized that he had actually meant what he said, and didn't feel any guilt at all. After all, why should he? He was from one of the most sought after families. It was easy for him to act high and mighty, but in reality he was just his brother's shadow. Not at school he wasn't, though the reaction from professors was that he was following in his brother's footsteps, they were wrong, he was his own person, and was willing enough to take on what ever consequences there would be. Not to say he wouldn't follow Rodolphus until the end, but there were somethings he would rather be on for his own.