Rabastan knows it’s a terrible habit, but he’s itching for a cigarette. I must have picked it up from Rodolphus, he thought. He was the one to introduce me to it. Rodolphus had given him his own pack from his stash to keep Rabastan from nagging him whenever the need arose for Rabastan, so Rabastan had dug around in the bottom of his trunk when he returned from Hogsmeade and then shoved the pack in his pocket as he shouldered his way back through the crowds.
Rabastan was convinced he would have bruised shoulders from the immense amount of other students he had to wade through, but finally got through the end and made his way out of the castle. He continued across the grounds to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just beyond the first row or so of trees, and then leaned against a tree and pulled a cigarette out of his pack. There were only five left; Rabastan made a mental note to go bother Rodolphus for another pack later.
He pulls the lighter he grabbed with the pack out of his pocket and lit up. He knew it was bad, of course it was, it killed your lungs, but it felt so good. Dammit, Rod. Then his eyes were being covered and someone was whispering in his ear. A woman’s voice. Startled, he dropped his cigarette. He spun around and saw Alecto behind me, smirking. “Alecto. Did you follow me out here?”
Alecto smirks ever wider at the obvious shock on the youngest Lestrange’s face. She came out here because there was nothing better to do, but now she has no idea what to do. Her voice holds in it the emotion of a girl going mad, and her smirk is as sharp as the knives she uses on the living things of the castle, and she answers his question with a fire in her eyes. “Of course I did. Why is it of any surprise to you?” she says, her voice inviting, mocking almost, as she watches Rabastan regain his composure.
Alecto steps forward and her movements are like that of a cat’s – all swift, quick movements of the limbs – and takes a cigarette out of her younger housemate’s pack, as well as his lighter, smiling a smile that lets Rabastan know she is not a fan of his plain lighters. Because while Alecto may be a bit unhinged, she still has that pureblood woman’s taste for the finer things in life, even if it’s just a lighter. The flame burns bright in the darkening forest and the wicked smile Alecto wore just seconds ago returns, a dark look of sadism in her eyes. She stares at the tiny flame erupted from the silver insides of this machine, bringing it to the tip of her cigarette and nearly giggling in wicked glee as it burns the tip to ash.
She tosses the lighter back to Rabastan, hoping he doesn’t catch it and gets a burn on his hand, a mark to tell him that Alecto Carrow was in possession of one of his obviously favorite things, if only for a second.
