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Dorcas seemed to like his suggestion that she choose their next holiday location. It would be most likely be their honeymoon and he thought she ought to have a say in that event as well as the wedding. He’d gone back and forth on the idea of marrying Meadowes. Not the act itself, but the event. The wedding. Dorcas was such a strange creature, he wasn’t sure what to expect from her. On the one hand, she liked pretending she and him weren’t in a relationship at all, and to that end he suspected she would want a small ceremony. Something discrete that she could ignore and go about pretending she wasn’t as happy as she was. On the other hand, Dorcas liked the attention. Something lavish to rival his first wedding would certainly not be out of the question. No way would Dorcas Lestrange allow a dead woman to have bested her in any way, she would most certainly go out of her way to ensure her wedding to Rodolphus was larger than Bellatrix’s in every possible way. But then people would know that she loved him and he considered she would want something small again. There was time to work out the details and they would, perhaps, be done while Dorcas was straddling him in the buff, but not at this very moment. He was quickly taking her in his arms and flipping her to the mattress, ready to pounce like a hungry lion.

Skiing was suggested but Rodolphus would need to eat before engaging in any further physical activities. Dorcas seemed to read his mind. “Cereal,” he repeated with a laugh at how pedestrian still tried to be, even in a private villa in the fucking Italian Alps. His left arm was bent at the elbow, his large fingers tracing a circular indentation on her shoulder with pride. The skin was speckled with tiny dots of red where his teeth had broken the blood vessels but not the skin. Her fair skin shown every little imperfection, every marker of his journey across her body. He admired it for a moment longer before nodding. “Ader,” he called, the elf appearing almost immediately. “Bring cereal. And crepes.” His fancy breakfast that Dorcas would likely eat as well, in addition to her pathetic cereal. The elf nodded and disappeared to the kitchen, leaving them alone again. It was perhaps not the five minutes she was thinking of, but it would take the elf a few minutes to prepare Rodolphus’ breakfast and in the meantime, Roddy was already rolling to his side and looking at Dorcas with predatory eyes. “Sixth of September,” he remarked, hovering over her naked figure and inching his way down her torso with his lips. “6/9.” He passed her belly button and continued south. “That is when we will be married,” he said matter-of-factly as his tongue slipped between her legs.

The night hadn’t gone as planned, and sadly Rodolphus wasn’t able to get his jollies off until Dorcas had actually fallen asleep on the sofa. Try as he might, the witch simply ignored his advances, once or twice he caught her smiling slightly if he hit the right spot or made a comment she found amusing, but he was getting nowhere while her muggle contraption was blaring. The snoring didn’t put him off, neither did the drool oozing from the corner of her gaping mouth, but in sleep she had wasn’t as good as he knew she could be. No one liked fucking a limp fish, so he gave up and carried her to bed. Pulling off his clothes, he joined her and fell asleep with her left breast in his mouth.

Thick curtains blocked out most of the late-morning light. It wasn’t until Rodolphus rolled over, his arm falling to a cool mattress where Dorcas’ warm body ought to have been, that Rod stirred. His head ached, the dull pain of the previous night’s consumption and a still purple eye from the witch who would one day be his wife. He opened his good eye and scanned the room, hearing the rushing of water just before the shower was turned off. He could practically smell the burning flesh, or perhaps he was simply all too familiar with the level of boiling water Dorcas liked to bathe in. His imagination running away with him. Damn pathetic use of an imagination when a naked Dorcas Meadowes was a mere room away. Roddy rolled onto his back, tucking his right arm behind his head and resting his left one on his well worked abs. He was on full display, the blanket and sheet kicked to the empty side of the bed. “You can choose the next one,” he said, spying her flipping her hair into a towel through the doorway.

Being a single father was easy when you were the wealthiest wizard in the country and your ex-wife was dead. Honestly, Bella’s death had been a welcomed reprieve to the chaos of raising a daughter alone. She’d been a wretched mum without an ounce of compassion for her own blood and hadn’t even attempted to give Aurora a little brother nor the Lestrange family a proper heir. Using their only child as a pawn in their hate-filled relationship seemed par for the course but when Bellatrix threatened their daughter directly, Rodolphus knew he had to devote more of his time, energy, and money to keeping Aurora safe and preoccupied. It had been exhausting work, and Aurora had been much clingier in the months following her mother’s departure from the Chateau. Rod had barely any time for himself, but it all seemed to settle following Bella’s death. Dorcas was such a jealous bitch she couldn’t stand Rodolphus’ ex even being alive. Parenting alone after that only seemed to get easier. He once again felt comfortable in leaving Aurora to her own schedule and allowing himself time away for whatever business or whimsy he had planned at the moment. But Rod wasn’t about to recommend to Lucian’s mistress kill off Clementine so that he could enjoy the relaxing freedom of single parenthood. Poor sod didn’t even have a mistress!

“Just give him whatever he wants,” Rod offered, raising his glass to his mouth and then finishing his drink. There was a bit of humor in his words, but he also believed it to be the truth. The Lestrange boys had been handed everything they’d ever wanted and were poised to continue the family legacy with style and competence. Rabby was easily climbing the political ladder and Roddy was heading a successful international corporation. Their greed as children had only made them want more as adults and they were both ruthless in their individual pursuits, albeit with completely opposite methods. “Worked out well my brother and I and seems to be spot on for this one,” he said of Aurora. He set his empty glass down on the coffee table where Ader would take note of it shortly and refresh it without instruction. Aurora began to fidget and drew her father’s eye. “Are you done playing with the baby, love?”

Aurora shook her head vigorously but looked up to Clem and said, “I want to show him my broom.” She tried to scoot from the sofa but couldn’t manage to go anywhere while holding the baby. “I’m a beater like daddy! Baby can be chaser. Or keeper. I don’t think he can fly fast enough to be a seeker because he is just a baby but if he wants to play that one then I can just win a lot. I like winning. Daddy always loses ‘gainst me ‘cause I’m so good.”

Fucking Chinese take away and a pile of movies, a sodding pillow fort, and dried cereal. They could have done all of this back in Britain! Aside from the enormous TV and the lush surroundings, they were basically back in Dorcas’ teeny little shack and absolutely nothing had changed. Rodolphus sneered as he pulled the cap off his bottle and flicked it across the room, not tracking nor caring where it landed. Leaning back into the sofa, Rodolphus sipped on his beer and suffered through some 30 year old pretending to be an American teenager. The blonde wasn’t half bad to look at and Roddy stated as much, one of many comments he made throughout the movie. He was disappointed that the sleepover scene was so tame and recoiled visibly as the frumpy looking girl made a chipmunk face. The songs were catchy, though often times nonsensical, but it wasn’t the sort of music he’d listen to if given the chance. “Just shag her in the changing room and get on with it already,” he commented as the leading couple were again finding themselves at odds. Hell, if teenaged Rodolphus and Dorcas could manage it while they were at school, then the singing American teens could make it work and end this fucking nightmare of a movie.

“Guess so,” he remarked to himself as Dorcas went about ignoring him and completely destroying a box of cereal in the process. He would have offered to do it for her but she would have just ignored that, too, so he leaned back against the counter, folded his arms across his chest, and watched in amusement as she struggled to make herself a pathetic dinner of cereal. His eyes tracked her movements around the kitchen, silently watching. Finally she pulled a few bottles of cider from the fridge and headed back out toward the lounge. Rodolphus shoved his hand forcefully against the door of the refrigerator to shut it, as Dorcas’ attempt had been unsuccessful. “Alright then.” Still no talking. Fine. Clearly this weekend was not going to go as planned, and that put a sour taste in Rod’s mouth. He yanked open the fridge again and grabbed himself a bottle of beer, then slammed the door shut and followed Dorcas into the lounge.

Grabbing a slice of pineapple-free pizza as he went, Rodolphus plopped himself down on the sofa next to the little cushion fort Dorcas had prepared for herself. He took a large bite as he relaxed into the seat and used his right foot to push off his left boot, then the opposite. Extending his legs in front of the sofa he scooted down in the seat and got himself comfortable, half expecting Dorcas to throw a wobbly and leave the room altogether. “What are we watching?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the TV but admiring Dorcas’ figure in the reflection of the blank screen.

Rodolphus had shut his eyes for only a moment as the liquor and the elixir mingled, making his head a lovely sort of fuzzy. He smiled gently and soon his head was lilting to the right. He was asleep before Dorcas exited the shower and passed through the bedroom; a snoring Roddy and pizza with pineapple on half laying on the bed.

Not sure how long he’d been asleep, and not even sure he had been sleeping at all, Rodolphus awoke and looked around the room. It took him a moment to recognize where he was. It was dark now, but the pizza was still warm. He’d not been out too long. “Babe?” he called toward the clearly unoccupied bathroom. There was no answer. Dorcas’ clothes had been picked up from the floor. His drinking glass had been taken away. The stopper on his now empty euphoria potion vial had been replaced. The room was properly sorted which meant Ader – Dorcas wouldn’t have cleaned up after Roddy if she were still in a piss poor mood, but Rod wasn’t thinking of her sour mood. He was still feeling the effects of his elixir, the pain potion for his broken and very badly bruised nose was holding strong. He was just the right amount of stoned to whip out his wand and levitate the pizza along in front of him as he went to find where Dorcas was.

She had clearly been in the lounge. The lights were set low and she’d practically built herself a pillow fort on the sofa. Rodolphus traced a route through the air with his wand and directed the pizza to set itself on the table between the sofa and the TV. He was getting warmer, but with Dorcas clearly planning to cozy up to a few dozen cushions on the sofa, he had a pretty good idea of where she might be. He found her heading toward the kitchen and caught up with her easily. “I ordered pineapple on your half,” he said as he came up behind her. “How you can stand to eat that rubbish is beyond me.” His hand instinctively moved to caress her bum as he leaned against the counter. The bruising around his face made his eyes appear lighter, their natural caramel color reflected in the kitchen lights. “Are you wanting something other than pizza?” She always had a pizza when they spent the holiday together, though in fairness they’d usually spent the days following Valentine’s Day together – this would be their first time actually seeing each other on the day of (or day prior to, as the case were) since they were in school.