Vampires and Chaos
Rabastan sat stiffly in the carriage, the cold night air seeping through the cracks of the worn leather seats. His brother, Rodolphus, sat across from him, silent as ever, his face cast in deep shadows. The trees outside blurred past in the dark, and Rabastan fidgeted in his seat, wondering how he had gotten roped into this. Recruiting vampires. Great. Could be worse, I guess. Could be a dementor meeting.
Rodolphus cleared his throat, cutting into the oppressive silence. “You know what to do, Rabastan?”
Absolutely no idea, Rodolphus, but thanks for asking. Rabastan nodded solemnly. “Of course, brother. Talk to the vampire lord, convince him to join the Dark Lord. Simple enough.”
Rodolphus gave him a hard look. “Sanguini will not bow to us easily. We must tread carefully.”
Rabastan suppressed a grimace. He leaned back and crossed his arms, trying to look confident, though his mind was buzzing. Vampires. What do I even know about vampires? Blood… pale skin… probably have a thing for coffins. Can’t be that hard to talk to them.
The carriage rattled to a stop. Rodolphus glanced at him, his eyes narrowing. “Wands out,” he ordered, pulling his own wand from his robes with the grace of someone who knew exactly what to do with it.
Rabastan, on the other hand, swallowed hard and pulled out his wand with all the confidence of someone who had only learned first-year spells from a book. Just act natural. It’s not like I’ll actually have to use it, right?
The mansion loomed ahead, towering and gothic, like something straight out of a horror movie. As they approached the large oak doors, Rabastan’s unease grew.The doors creaked open, revealing a grand, decrepit hall filled with looming shadows. Who Rabastan assumed was Sanguini, the vampire lord himself, stood in the center, dressed in flowing black robes. His eyes, dark and piercing, locked onto Rabastan almost instantly.
"Welcome, Rodolphus Lestrange… and Rabastan," Sanguini purred, his gaze lingering on Rabastan far longer than Rabastan was comfortable with.
Rodolphus stepped forward, businesslike as always. “We come on behalf of the Dark Lord. He wishes to extend an offer—"
Sanguini held up a hand, silencing Rodolphus without a word, his gaze never leaving Rabastan. Rabastan could feel his palms start to sweat. Okay, why is he staring at me? Did I spill something? Do I have blood on me?
“Rabastan,” Sanguini said, his voice smooth and hypnotic, “you carry something… unique. A power unlike any I’ve felt before.”
Wait, what? “Uh… thanks?” Rabastan shifted awkwardly, already regretting this whole situation.
Sanguini moved closer, his eyes dark and hungry in a way that made Rabastan’s stomach flip—not in a good way. “Chaos follows you,” the vampire whispered, a dangerous smile tugging at his lips. “I can feel it in the air around you.”
Oh no. He’s flirting. Rabastan swallowed hard. And he’s being a little too forward for my taste, honestly. “I, uh, try to keep things low-key,” Rabastan mumbled, taking a step back. “Not really looking for chaos or magnificence. Just here to talk about the whole alliance thing?”
Sanguini smiled wider, his fangs glinting. “We’ll have time for alliances later. I’m far more interested in you.”
Oh god, this is happening. Don’t blush. Don’t blush. “Uh, thanks, but I think we should focus on, you know, the Dark Lord’s offer?”
Before Rabastan could come up with a graceful exit strategy, a high-pitched screech echoed through the room. Rabastan blinked, confused, and suddenly the air was filled with small, winged creatures, swooping in from the rafters.
“What the hell?” Rabastan yelped, ducking as one of the pixies dive-bombed his head.
Rodolphus whipped out his wand, his face contorted in fury. “Damn pixies! What are they doing here?!”
“They seek revenge,” Sanguini hissed, his earlier suave demeanor giving way to frustration. “We… had a dispute.”
Rabastan, still holding his wand like a useless prop, stared at the chaos unfolding around him. Vampires. Pixies. This is how I die.
One pixie grabbed onto Rabastan’s wand and yanked it out of his hand. “Look at this! Look at this!” it cackled before zooming away, his wand in tow.
“Oh, come on!” Rabastan shouted, throwing his hands up. This is fine. I’ll just get murdered by angry pixies instead of a pushy vampire.
Sanguini, who had been glaring at the pixies, suddenly turned his attention back to Rabastan. “Stay here,” he declared, his voice dripping with drama. “I will retrieve your wand!”
Oh no. Don’t be a hero. I don’t even care about the wand that much!
Sanguini leapt into action, vaulting toward the rafters with inhuman grace. He reached for the pixie holding Rabastan’s wand, his movements grand and exaggerated. And then the pixies descended on him.
With a loud screech, the pixies attacked, pulling at Sanguini’s hair, yanking his robes, biting his arms. The vampire flailed helplessly, swiping at the pixies in a wild attempt to regain control.
Rabastan stood frozen, watching in horrified fascination as Sanguini’s ‘heroic’ mission turned into a slapstick disaster. Oh no, this is kind of cute. No! No, Rabastan, don’t be fooled by this himbo nonsense! Boundaries are cute, not his too-aggressive-flirting and failed theatrics.
Despite the chaos, Sanguini managed to grab Rabastan’s wand, pulling it from the pixie’s grasp with a triumphant smile. The victory was short-lived as another pixie dive-bombed him, sending him crashing to the ground in an undignified heap.
Sanguini lay sprawled on the floor, still clutching the wand. “For you, sweet Rabastan,” he gasped, holding the wand out toward him.
Rabastan blinked. “Uh… thanks?” He sidled over and took the wand, eyeing it like it was some kind of cursed object.
Sanguini chuckled weakly, still sprawled on the floor. “Anything for you…”
Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Rabastan glanced down at Sanguini, who was gazing at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the room. No. This is not cute. Boundaries are cute. A sense of chill is cute.
Rodolphus, who had been battling pixies in the background, appeared at Rabastan’s side, his face a mix of disgust and confusion. “What in Merlin’s name happened?”
Rabastan shrugged. “Pixies.”
Rodolphus stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “We’re leaving before this turns into any more of a disaster,” he muttered.
As they walked away, Rabastan threw one last glance over his shoulder at Sanguini, who was now attempting to fix his disheveled hair. Okay, fine. He’s a little cute. But that doesn’t excuse the pushy vibe. Read the room, Sanguini. It’s not that hard.