Rabastan remembered clearly the last time they had been in this position. He had remembered the red welts that were left upon the pale skin as his whip flicked across flesh and the sounds of pain mixed with pleasure ripping through the man’s throat. That had been another time, it seemed, for in just a few months their world had changed drastically. The pleasures of flesh and sin were not something that kindled flames within Rabastan. His needs were much darker now and harder to come to satisfaction in ways that it had at one point in his life.
With the war tinging the air and the promise of a better, mudblood free, tomorrow, Rabastan couldn’t let himself be lost in such carnal activities. His full focus would be towards the Knights of Walpurgis as well as guiding the rise of the Dark Lord into a supreme power.
“I know you will. Your mind and heart are in the right place and we need more people like you who cannot be so easily swayed in the cause.” Rabastan pressed his index finger against Travis’ temple and then against his heart, lingering there before his hands dropped onto his lap.
Rabastan was still weary on several of the members who would be inducted to become a Knight. Andromeda was too friendly with those that were far from pure of blood. Alecto cared too much about what others thought of her, Severus was apparently still in a relationship with the redheaded mudblood who was the bane to their very cause. He would give them all a chance to prove themselves though that they were fit to help the Dark Lord by first helping themselves.
“The smallest rock can create the biggest ripples.” He said with a nod of his head. One man could change a lot, but to have faithful followers as a foundation would surely change the war into their favor. The Dark Lord needed his Knights.
Travis was all too quick to succumb to his physical desires,that was what had gotten him in this mess in the first place, of pleasure, pain, his emotions. He couldn’t wait to start, really, he wanted to get out there, to finish school, to get into the field, as it were, and show them all what for, show them that he was better than them. He didn’t have to be a Black to be prominent in their world, he could do it himself, surpass them. He never did see Bellatrix sitting up here, or the other two. Oh, yes, he did like this very much.
There was a sort of melancholy in things changing and Travis was unsure, he wanted things to change in their favour, but he wanted to keep some things as they were, or, at least, as they had been. He wanted to succeed with the Knights, earn his place and his respect, but he wanted to keep his comforts. Ripples disturbed things.
He didn’t know whether to smile or to frown, but he didn’t move from his position, still slumped against the other man, and he shook his head slightly, hand moving to rest on Rabastan’s thigh. He didn’t really have anything to say but he spoke regardless,
'Thank you, Rabastan,'
He started fingertips tapping lightly on the man’s thigh and then he looked up at him, smiling,
'You always know how to help. I could not ask for a better friend.'
His other hand moved to his chest, rubbing at where the burns had been, though the marks were gone he could still feel a sting, and it only made him more determined to succeed.
'It's like a revolution, isn't it?'
He scoffed a little bit stretching his arms out in front of him, sitting up straight,
'You'll be Enroljas and I'll be Marius.'
I enjoy writing Travis/Rabastan so much. Such a fantastic writer!
it’s true. you are great.
I love Travis’ vulnerability
…………you are sorely mistaken.
Yes, sweetheart, I gathered that by the footnote.
T-Travis *coughs and composes herself* here’s an invitation to an event hosted by my parents. Hopefully, I’ll see you there.
(because Travis just took it and walked off. He’s a dick today.)
It must be hard for Travis to hold back when he clearly wanted to go after the man that had done this to him. Rabastan did not like the fact that someone was blackmailing Travis. It was cowardice to hide behind a blurred face while holding vital information about someone that could break them. Had positions been reversed, things would have been handled much differently and Travis would have made sure that no one would ever forget his face. He had heard about what he had done to both Lily and Emmeline, the events bringing a small smirk to his face.
That behind said, they could not run rampant into the Gryffindor Tower attacking every white male until they were sure they had gotten the right one. He was not a fool to do such things when he was still in school and had to unfortunately subject to a higher authority. The name of Lestrange did not outweigh that of the Headmaster or even the Heads of Houses. It could give him leeway but would not save him from attending a hearing in the Ministry or worse should he start a small war against the man who had done this to Travis.
“Are you sure of that? If you do not remember him then how do you know if he is older or younger.” The details were slowly creeping into Travis’ subconscious it seemed and yet it still didn’t give him much to go off of at the moment.
The vulnerability was unsettling, his fingers reaching out to grip Travis’ chin and lifting his face up so that their eyes met. “You can and you will. ” The man was bloodthirsty, he could taste the change in the air. “We will not forget what happened to you, but we need to focus on greater things at the moment. If you want your revenge then you have to put your efforts into the Knights. You know this.” He dropped his hand from Travis’ chin and sat beside the man on the edge of his bed now.
Travis knew well enough that Rabastan was right and this he reminded himself, again. He supposed he should be grateful that the man had listened to him. His mind was repeating itself, unable to form new ideas, new thoughts, focusing on the one that had angered him so and the one that sat before him, calming him down, to an extent. One could only imagine the sight the two of them would make, two potential killers, sitting and talking, Travis being comforted by the strong, unwavering words of the other.
Even the grip on his chin was comfortingly firm, Rabastan had kissed him the last time he’d held his chin like that—even more of an interesting sight, he would easily wager. His breathing had quickened slightly as he mulled over the man’s words. He could kill him, and he would. Just not now. He was right, he was right. Had he not come here, and very good that he did, the chances were he’d be on his way to a cell already—Travis was cunning when he chose to be, and reckless when he didn’t make particular effort to rein himself in. He wanted another kiss, but then again, he always wanted another kiss, always wanted just that little bit more.
He could taste his own anger and his own bitterness towards the unknown man floating around them and it was sweet on his tongue, but thick, heavy, and he sighed, letting his body slump to the side as Rabastan sat.
'I'll do whatever needs to be done for the Knights. Anything you ask.'
Travis muttered, and he would likely have done anything Rabastan asked in general. He liked that the man liked him, that they were close as they were and he did not think he’d ever grow tired of it, he wondered, as he leaned against him, if this would change within the next few years, or if he might find himself in Rabastan’s bedroom ten, twenty years from now, sitting on the bed and waiting for advice.
But no. Rabastan would be married. Perhaps he would, too. He shouldn’t like to be married, not now, not ever, but Travis was no good at being alone. He doubted very much he’d be left in peace to live with another man. Loneliness or sadness, he thought, were his options, bleak.
Even though he hated this vulnerability he was going to take advantage of it, get it out of his system as it were, so he let himself stay there temple against Rabastan’s shoulder and his chin tucked against his own shoulder, lips turned down in a slight frown.
'Do you think things will change? On a small scale, I mean. I know when we win, of course, things will be different, but the small things? Like this?'
He wanted to know more about the Knights, about what he would have to do, but he thought best to ask later, or wait until he was told.
Molly glared at the taller Slytherin, not appreciating the way he seemed to be deep in thought as he looked down at her, literally. She was so sick of being known as the little Prewett girl that obviously could not fend for herself. Growing up with Gideon and Fabian had taught her how to stand up to people and she would not allow herself to be pushed around by anyone, never less a Slytherin.
“A change starts with one, Travers, and for your information, lots of people are appalled by the attack and are trying to change what you find unchangeable But please do go on about how I am a speck, while I’m sure you think you’re very important on the radar.”
She raised her eyebrows, nodding clearly unimpressed with what he had to say. Molly had a certain ability to tell when people were lying, and while sometimes she didn’t call them out on it directly, she would make it clear that she knew of their lies by using sarcasm.
“And honestly, I don’t think a reputation would keep the Blacks from being very involved. Power usually trumps reputation when it comes to them, I’d say. Though I’m sure you’d know more about them than I would…”
'Oui, mon chéri, mais une révolution est réalisée avec le pouvoir du peuple. Pas un seul.'
He gave her a mocking smile, not bothering to translate, why would he? If she didn’t know what it meant then it was high time she picked up a book and learned, and until then he would be quite happy to fling phrases and insults at her various languages every time he passed her. Travis was bored, so painfully bored that he was still there, still working on pushing her buttons, wanting to make her angry, or upset, whichever came first.
'Of course I'd know more. I know more about everything than you do because you seem to have air between your ears.'
'And you're awfully boring.'
There was something exorbitantly unusual about holding that letter from Travis in his hands – something flattering, something that caused Severus’s heart to jump up into his throat. The ink of the scripture on the parchment shaped in Travis’s unfamiliar handwriting; it was something he’d taken his time to write out solely for Severus’s eyes to view, to read. Not only had he taken the time and energy to think and write to Severus, he’d even offered to spend more time with him. These were simple acts but nonetheless, these were circumstances Severus felt very much unaccustomed with. Holding that piece of parchment in his hands gave him a small sense of belonging. Yes, Lily was his best friend but it was a fact that the two of them had been drifting ever since the start of Hogwarts, and while he hoped for his situation with Lily to improve it was beyond flattering for him to feel needed by someone in his own house, someone who was more like himself. After all, Lily had countless friends and he… he had none really, except her. In a way it was unfair, although nobody’s fault but his own. While holding that piece of parchment from Travis, he felt a little less alone and it was a miraculous feeling, one he wouldn’t mind getting used to.
He’d responded in agreement to spending time with the boy in a letter delivered to Travis via school owl. Severus was in no mood to go to any place special with Travis (not that he really could anyhow, who knew when the next Hogsmeade weekend would be?), someone he barely even considered a friend… yet. The two had shared a conversation or two in the past about their futures, but that was as far as they’d gone. He did not feel the need to waste any money or risk being stood up. He knew how disappointing people usually turned out to be and decided it best to just find Travis in the Great Hall the next day during lunch hours.
By the time he was making his way towards his table, he felt stranger than ever. Part of him wanted to avoid the situation altogether and just beeline for his usual seat where he could be by himself and occasionally steal glances in the direction of where Lily usually sat. But no, not today. He filled his lungs with a calming breath and visually picked Travis out from the crowd. Luckily he didn’t seem engaged with anybody at that particular moment so Severus seized the opportunity to sit across from Travis, meeting the other boy’s eyes with his own before nodding once in a slower fashion, “Good afternoon,” He practically murmured while reaching for a roll of bread.
Travis honestly had no idea how a simple letter would affect Severus, one so simple as inviting him to lunch, to him it was merely lunch, a get together of two people that had gotten along fairly well in the past, and a chance to get to know him a little better, a chance to see if he really fit the bill, if he was truly one of them or had had his mind poisoned by Lily Evans. It seemed he had not, though, as Travis saw him strolling down towards him, and then Severus sat down.
'Thought you weren't coming.'
He said as he reached over, grasping a piece of bread to dab at the bits of gravy that covered his food, and he smiled, giving the boy a light kick under the table—it might even have been just a little flirty, though even he wasn’t sure.
'Eat. You look starving.'
Severus was nice, he knew that much, he was a nice guy, friendly enough, a little unversed in the ways, but that could easily be fixed. He wondered, vaguely, how the boy would look when Evans left him, if he would cry, how he would act.
Peter and Travis were nearing the end of the tunnel now, since Peter saw that the woman from the portrait wasn’t moving any more, which mean that only they were. He held out his wand to light the way, since without it, it remained dark, and they would only have the woman to focus on. Besides, his Marauder friends always did so the same. ‘Three Broomsticks, that one yeah, I think,’ he replied. Though he was never sure when it came to names. He would know the way though, far more important than what it was called.
He gazed at the person next to him when the question was asked. He didn’t really like talking about the serious stuff, and certainly not about this personal stuff. For some reason though, he thought he could trust Travis, many wouldn’t agree with him on that.
He shook his head. ‘Not really, I don’t know what it is, but we used to be such good friends, now I hardly see them anymore,’ he replied. He had come to this with a very good mood, talking about the Marauders made that all seem for nothing. ‘I don’t even know what happened, something must have, because we used to be so close,’ he told. The fourth Marauder wasn’t sure what Travis was to do with all that information, but he enjoyed the fact that there was at least someone he could talk to about it.
'That's a shame.'
He mused, giving the boy a light pat on the arm as he followed him along in the darkness, guided only by the light of his wand. It was funny, really, that Peter had trusted him so very easily, he’d thought it might have been harder to win him over, but here they were, alone in the dark—if it were anybody else he might have been prepared to defend himself, but this was Pettigrew. Pettigrew never did a thing and Travis had no need. Funny, also, that Peter didn’t think Travis would hurt him. He could, he definitely could, he could open him from ear to ear and nobody would be any the wiser on who did it.
'It's not your fault, I'm sure, they've never seemed like the friendliest group. Always out to use those around them. Most of you have very much the wrong idea of Slytherins, you know, we're far closer to each other than any of you could ever dream of being.'
Travis mused, and in some way it had it’s truths.