The Raven’s Nest was a dark, forbidding pub nestled in a small wooded nook far off the main road. Not many wizards knew of it. That was the only reason why Paul Lestrange had agreed to meet an old friend there for a drink. However, there were other things on his mind.
“I’m sorry, my old friend, but I cannot comply with your request,” Paul said to his companion, who was sitting in the shadows. They were at a table in a deserted corner with only a sputtering candle to provide light. Paul avoided looking at his associate, preferring instead to stare at the amber liquid in his glass. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but Paul knew he needed the courage the firewhiskey would provide him this evening.
“Are you sure?” The voice in the darkened corner asked.
Paul didn’t reply. Instead he continued staring at the tumbler half full of liquor. He set the glass down and looked at his old schoolmate.
Lucius Malfoy leaned forward into the light of the candle. “The Dark Lord will not be pleased.”
“The Dark Lord is not at the top of my priorities,” Paul replied. He had enough going on in his life. He had just walked out on a pretty girl, and his newborn son, Dean. If he could get through this, they would be able to be a family again. This was not the time to be drawn into a cause he was no longer sure he believed in.
Lucius shook his head. “There was a time, back in our old dormitory, that you wouldn’t have even thought such a thing. Have you forgotten where you come from? Your family’s bloodline rivals mine. As a member of Slytherin house you know how important the purity of our blood is to the future of the wizarding world.”
Paul let out a small chuckle. “I have seen the future of the wizarding world,” he said as he thought of his small son, “and the fanaticism He Who Must Not Be Named adheres to is not it.” His son would practice magic; he knew it in his heart. So what if his mother was a Muggle? Paul loved her, even if he had not told her that he was a wizard.
“Your cousin Rodolphus has already joined our ranks. A war is upon us, Paul. Don’t choose the losing side,” Lucius cautioned him. “The Dark Lord does not like to be disappointed. You wouldn’t like to be the one to upset him.” Those few who had disappointed The Dark Lord did not live to tell the tale.
Clenching his hands into fists, Paul glared at Lucius. “Just what is that supposed to mean?”
Lucius let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you don’t know. You’ve seen the Dark Mark; you know what it implies when it is set off over a house. You wouldn’t want that to happen to you, or anyone you love, would you?” Judging from the stark look of fear that had come over Paul’s face, Lucius knew Paul was very well aware. “Think about it,” Lucius said as he stood up from the table and left a few galleons to pay for the drinks. “We will be in contact, one way or another.”
Paul watched as Lucius left the pub, incredulous that he had ever believed as passionately Lucius did. All his life he had been raised to believe that as a pure-blooded wizard he was above those half-bloods and Muggle-borns. That ideal was something his family, the Lestranges, wholeheartedly stood for. And up until last year, Paul had also. Last summer Paul had met Mary, a pretty Muggle girl he had fallen in love with almost instantly. Their whirlwind romance had produced a son, Dean, named after Mary’s father. He was only eight weeks old and Paul would do anything to protect Dean and his mother, including walking away as he had.
“I had to leave them,” Paul whispered to himself. “I won’t let The Dark Lord harm my family.” It would only be for awhile. He would go into hiding. No one he had contact with in the wizarding community knew about Mary and Dean. Paul had been careful to keep his two worlds separate. Once everything was settled, he and his family could be reunited. “I hope Mary will understand,” he prayed as he stood up from the table and made his way out of the pub.
The night was clear as Paul stepped outside. His mind was on a possible future with Mary and Dean. Perhaps that was why he didn’t hear the soft swoosh of cloaks as two figures stepped out from behind the trees. Or perhaps the two figures were just too stealthy? Either way, Paul was not aware of their presence until it was too late.
“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!”
Paul’s body went rigid with the force of the spell as his limbs snapped to his sides. He toppled face down into the dirt as he heard a loud cackle.
“Pretty, pretty Paulie,” the wild haired beauty with the heavy-lidded eyes said as she kicked him over to face her. “You should have taken Lucius up on his offer.”
Paul watched in horror as his cousin’s wife, Bellatrix leaned over him with her wand pointed at him. He could only move his eyes as he looked next to Bellatrix and saw his cousin, Rodolphus.
“I’m sorry, cousin,” Rodolphus shrugged. “This was your last chance. Now, not even I can help you.” Rodolphus’ eyes met his wife’s, and he nodded.
Grinning evilly Bellatrix raised her wand. “Avada Kedavra!”
The last thought that went through Paul’s mind as the green light whirled toward him was that of his son’s smile. With that Paul died at peace.
Fateful Encounter by hiversgrrl
Chapter Notes: One shot for Professor V. V.’s History of Magic class, MWPP: Minding the Details