WHO: Rabastan Lestrange & Juliana Wilkes
WHAT: She needs a distraction, he needs some ass. I mean--
WHEN: Aha ummmm backdated to about a week before the Travers wedding
WHERE: Ministry of Magic
RATING: Totally PG-13, don't worry

It wasn't easy, being a bride-to-be.

It was even harder to be a reluctant bride-to-be. Juliana had been stressed out beyond belief lately with this impending wedding and all the preparations and harping by her mother, and even though she was sure that half of her stress came from being adamantly difficult about the whole situation, she was not about to cut anyone any slack. Not her mother, his her future mother, and especially not Orpheus. And still, to have a nice break once in a while would have been welcomed. The closest she had come to anything like that these days was lunchtime at the Ministry, during which she no longer ate, but instead escaped into the Atrium and lit up a fag and tried to stay as far away from her future husband as was humanly possible. It was easy, being out away from the offices, and as she took a long drag and sat on the edge of the opulent fountain and watched the people wander by, she felt a sense of ease. No one ever stopped to bother her and ask why she wasn't down in the cafeteria with her fiancé.

Everyone knew. Everyone, no matter what social standing they came from, knew that things like this still happened, that there were plenty of arranged marriages all the time, plenty of brides-to-be that sat on the edges of fountains with hopes of avoiding their betrothed, thinking every day that their lives were absolute crap.

She had never believed in it, really, marriages of convenience. She went along with it all because it was accepted and expected, however archaic, and she had always known that she would have go to through with one. Juliana had just never thought it would be so soon. Everything that had happened in the past couple of months had happened so fast, and she needed far more than a couple of months to suddenly conform to society's standards for her. She still didn't understand how some girls could run from it, but she understood at least a little better the temptation. Merlin knew she'd been tempted--then again, she'd been more tempted to just off Travers and take his money. That was the Slytherin in her, she supposed.

Jules took another drag on her cigarette and then leaned back against her palms, feeling tiny, cold droplets of water splash onto them from where they were perched on the ledge over the fountain's pool. She was so very glad no one bothered her. If Orpheus had come up here to irritate her, she might have had to drown herself.

Rabastan rarely came out of the basement of the Ministry, and even rarer so was it to get lunch. Usually he just popped home and had one of the house elves fix him something, but for some odd, rather off putting reason, he'd made the trek up to were the casual ministry workers ate. Which was absolutely a stupid decision on his part, as some stupid bint from accounting spilled some fucking muggle---pop drink over his robes and---oh, she was so lucky they were in public. Annoyed that he'd wasn't able to suffocate the very last breath out of the woman, Rabastan quickly exited (after cleaning up his robes, so fucking lucky he used cleaning spells a lot) and made his way to the atrium, where he was going to...going to...

Well fuck if he knew, he was in too bad of a goddamn mood to formulate a plan.

The atrium would probably have people around, so, annoyed at his second stupid decision of the day, Rabastan made to press the button of the lift again to simply disappear back into the archives and deal with the work he had felt like procrastinating on. But, his finger hovered for a moment as he spotted Juliana Wilkes looking rather miserable on the ledge of the fountain. He'd snickered loudly at her parents' choice of a husband for her when the news had first broken. Travers? How had Grayson allowed his sister to be tied to such a pathetic excuse for a death eater? The whiniest of all entire rookies (until you did something impressive, you were a rookie to Rabastan), betrothed to a Wilkes woman.

Figuring that Juliana could at least amuse him for a few minutes before he went and killed the next person entering the elevator, Rabastan stepped off and toward the woman (oh damn, a Doge brother was boarding---).

"Juliana, dear, why so glum?" Rabastan asked, sitting lazily beside her and staring out toward the small crowd of people entering the ministry. His head dipped back, growing bored immediately and he looked at here, hand dropping behind to idly move the water.

Alright, so maybe not all disturbances were completely unwelcome.

Juliana turned her gaze to the side to watch the form of one Rabastan Lestrange lower down beside her, and couldn't help but smile a little. Of the few people that she could honestly stand to be around in the wizarding world, he was one of them--of course it helped that he had a lot of money, was nicely handsome, and had participated in making fun of Orpheus ever since the news of the engagement had broken. Anyone who fit all three of those criteria was a favorite of hers lately.

Her fingers flicked the fag, letting a bit of ash fall into the water behind her before she brought it back to her lips. She listened to him as she took a drag, and then extended the cigarette in offering while she blew the smoke out through her lips.

"If you cannot guess, Rabastan, then I may have to deny you the honor of my presence," she answered. It wasn't completely certain from her tone whether she was joking or not. "Don't think too hard about it, darling."

"The boy?" he retorted with a scoff, surprised that Juliana was actually wasting a breath let alone a thought about Travers. Rabastan pulled his hand from the water and flicked the droplets off his fingertips and to the floor, not flinching at the look the front desk witch sent him. The dramatics Grayson had gone through with the Llewellyn girl must have terrified the Wilkes parents into such a lousy partnership for Juliana; if Rabastan wasn't so against the ideals of betrothal and marriage, she would probably be one of the few he'd find acceptable. Except, of course, he knew of her promiscuous ways and while he was quite ready to take advantage of that, he didn't think it was something that he would be able to deal with if she were to be his wife.

No, actually, the jealousy would of even the thoughts of all the men she'd been with would consume him and he'd probably end up killing her in some fit of rage. Hm.

But that was besides the point; Juliana was engaged to that child, Travers, and he pitied her, an emotion that Rabastan rarely displayed. Rabastan stood, coming to plant his feet in front of Juliana, hands in his cloak pockets, "Don't waste another thought on It. Come."

Juliana arched a brow at him as he stood up in front of her, caught somewhere between being curious as to what he had in store for her and not wanting to look to eager to follow him. But eager she was, for something better to do than sit around and smoke and think about The Boy--as Rabastan had so aptly named him--and so after a short, very required show of skepticism, she stubbed the butt of the fag out on the side of the fountain and stood with him.

As he had before, she ignored the look of the receptionist at her littering and turned her back to that direction, following her now moving companion. She really was interested to see where he was supposedly leading her, and she knew that it couldn't be towards The Boy--that fact alone coaxed a small smile to tug on her lips.

"Am I to know where you're leading me, or are we ever the man of mystery, Rabastan?" she asked a short while later, somewhere hoping he'd keep it a secret until the end. She could use some excitement in her life lately.

He didn't care to answer he question, and just nodded his head toward a nearly abandoned hallway---renovations had been going on there for years, and it seemed that whatever money had been put into making this new area of the ministry had diminished along with the gleam of the ridiculously expensive tiles on the floor.

The thin corridors they were making their way through, the dingy looking doors and the creaky steps---it would all be worth it. Rabastan didn't waste much time outside of his office or even in the rest of the ministry, at that, but when he needed to avoid his associates or superiors, there was only one place he was able to find suitable enough. For as much effort as he put into his charm work and other, ah--hobbies, Rabastan was quite lazy when it came to actually apparating to and fro from work. He knew he couldn't just leave as that would begin to irritate people and he'd get...fired, he supposed, and it wouldn't be as if he would lose all that was supporting him; he just kind of liked the job. So if he apparated home when he was trying to avoid people, he simply would not find the energy to make it back to work in time to not get in trouble.

As all the jumbled thoughts and reasonings in his head bounced around (rarely did he walk in silence without the random tangents keeping him company), Rabastan opened a final door, which lead out to the roof of the dingy building that towered over the red telephone booth of the visitor's entrance. In the heart of London, the sights were thrilling---if you cared, that is. Rabastan had been up here so many times that he wasn't moved by them, so he simply went about summoning over the crates that he used. With a flick they transformed into a comfortable couch, and he dropped down onto it, looking up at Juliana expectantly.

Juliana frowned distastefully at the corridors Rabastan was taking her through--she was going to have to hex the dust off her bloody heels once she got out of here. She wouldn't have worn her designers if she'd known that he was going to lead her through a disgusting abandoned wing, honestly, if these were ruined she would--

--"Oh. Well."

She tried her best to hide the fact that she was impressed, but to no avail. As she stepped out onto the rooftop, Juliana's eyes widened rather largely as she took in the scenery placed before her. You could see much of the city from up there, almost as if you were flying past on a broomstick. It was absolutely breathtaking, and she found that she had a difficult time tearing her eyes away from the sights to look back behind her to where Rabastan had conjured--or transfigured, either way--a couch. She gave one glance back before returning over to him and taking her seat beside him on the couch.

Her mouth opened, a million questions poised on her tongue and her mind unsure of which to ask first. How had he found this place? Did anyone know how to get up there? How long had he been coming there? What did he do up there? She was certain that she must have looked a touch silly, somewhat dumbstruck, and closed her mouth instantly, shaking her head in acceptance that she probably wouldn't be able to figure out where to start. Juliana pursed her lips for a moment in thought, then shifted on the couch to face her body towards him, arm resting on the back. "This is---wow."

Oh, how eloquent. Well put indeed.

Rabastan allowed a smile to creep onto his features; a genuine one at that. He was fond of Juliana, not of her lifestyle, no, but she was very interesting to him and managed to keep him interested when most women simply bored him to tears. So he was amused that she was so taken back by the view, and was actually quite happy with the reaction. It's what he'd been aiming for, naturally.

"It is," he agreed, legs stretched out far in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Rabastan slouched lazily, years of etiquette completely being ignored, and then lolled his head to the side to look at Juliana. "It's a good way to forget The Boy; I come up here when my...advisor," he hated the word 'boss', "deems it time to check up on my activities."

He wasn't necessarily a man who was happy at a desk job, and if he hadn't been able to locate himself in the Department of Mysteries archives, Rabastan would have never accepted the offer. No, the enigmas and riddles that were written down in the plethora of tomes down in the deep, deep basement of the ministry were far too irresistible to Rabastan. Plus, they were awfully helpful; he actually had developed a spell from some old readings that Juliana's brother Grayson would find quite...amusing.

"Of course," Rabastan couldn't have Juliana sitting there looking as beautiful as she always did without throwing in, "there's a vast other number of ways to put It out of your mind." He caught her eyes for a moment before looking back out toward skyline with a smirk.

Juliana took a casual position as well. Having to sit up nicely and look professional all day in the Ministry could wear down on a person, and this was almost like coming home at the end of the day and being able to fall back into her own couch. They were the only ones up here, and certainly she wasn't worried about impressing Rabastan, so she didn't consider it a crime at all when she took a similar position to his.

She was watching the sky when he began to speak, and tapping her nails lightly on the armrest. Somewhere Juliana had heard that women didn't tend to feel like they were getting much out of a conversation if they couldn't look at a person and be looked back at, but she felt that wasn't true with her. Generally, it was her that did the looking away as the man watched her--but then again, she was used to being looked at by men anyway, and not generally because they were raptured by her witty banter and intelligent conversation. When one thought about it that way, maybe she didn't look at men because she didn't want to see that they were looking down, rather than at her face.

There was, however, something compelling in the change of Rabastan's tone after a pause, and despite her earlier musings and willingness to prove their correctness to herself, she could not help but to catch his eye at his hinting.

Her brow rose just slightly in surprise. Not really at him or the fact that he'd suggest such a thing, but it wasn't really something she'd been expecting right at the moment. Nonetheless... it was Rabastan. And---oh--oh ho, this was--Juliana smirked widely, unable to hold it back as a thought sprung to her mind. "You know..." she drawled slowly, "I can imagine several other ways to get my mind off The Boy as well. But I do think he would find them very unacceptable." It was obvious from her tone that this delighted her to no end. "He might even be a touch livid."

He didn't hesitate in twisting toward Juliana, pushing himself up from the couch slightly. No, he really did not give a damn that she was soon to be married, that there was a man out there set to be her husband. The word never meant much to him, he'd never been witness to anything that remotely looked like what a marriage was supposed to be, and he believed that all the rules and regulations set up were only to keep the tradition alive. Who really followed any of them these days, anyway?

Leaning over Juliana, Rabastan grinned, eyes casting out to the city around them for a second before looking back at her. He'd never had a woman up there, and it was rather public, but he was not turned off by the idea (actually quite the opposite) and with her reputation, he was easy to assume that Juliana would find this quite daring as well. She was beautiful, he couldn't deny that, and he was physically attracted to her; the fact that she was speaking of The Boy in that manner and the way her eyes were sparkling with excitement, it only made this easier. Not that it was hard at all, attempting to seduce an engaged woman (he'd done it before, many times), but it did help the thrill of it all. Leaning close, Rabastan didn't bother trying to hide the smirk on his face, and he didn't stop his arm from pressing against the back of the couch on Juliana's other side, boxing her in. No; this didn't feel bad at all.

"Now, who really gives a shit about him?"