Tell me if I should up the rating, but I feel like enough is left to innuendo and metaphor, and you need a fairly dirty mind to pick up on everything ;)

Rodolphus Lestrange arrives at the door the same moment as the raven-haired beauty known to most as Miss Black. She is enticing; her bloodline commands his respect, and her dark, flashing eyes command his interest. He steps back, gallantly gesturing her forward.

"Ladies first."

She gives him a curt nod, preparing to brush past him. However, something causes her to hesitate: perhaps it is the inviting gleam in his eyes, or the titillating, veiled smile. Whatever it is, it stops her.

"That's very chivalrous of you, Lestrange. Is that a rule you always follow?"

Rodolphus gauges her small smirk carefully. This is not a game that women of her status generally play. "It is," he replies at last. "Whenever humanly possible."

She laughs, tilting her chin back. "And do you find that difficult?"

"Not at all," he quickly assures her. "I find it- chivalry, that is- immensely gratifying."

"And why is that? Most men prefer instant gratification, you know. Want to be first through the door and all."

"Men don't know how to treat women anymore," he purrs, stepping closer. "Women need a touch... of gentility in their lives, I mean."

"That's not the only touch women need," she tells him. He cocks an eyebrow at the lack of guile, until she continues, "We like little touches of luxury and beauty, too."

"Unfortunately, many men can't give those touches."

"And you can?"

"Of course. I can give all kinds of touches. Money buys luxury," he reminds her with a wink.

"And all of this in the interest of putting ladies first?"

"Well, what else? Women would go about in an immensely bitter mood if they weren't first."

"Is that so? Then how do you account for acts that women perform for men that give them no personal satisfaction? Such as... oh, I don't know, planning parties and inviting boring business contacts?"

"Some women enjoy... party planning, for the same reason men enjoy... eating poorly cooked meals by loved ones." They both ignore that fact that pureblood women do not cook, and she affects a haughty glare.

"That is rude. Men certainly don't cook any better. And it still didn't answer my question."

"Quid pro quo, my dear Miss Black. You throw me a party, and I buy you pretty gowns. I eat a meal you cook, and you... well," he flashed her a smirk. "You plan my party."

"Men and their parties," she tutts softly. "Why do they always need to be so big? Can't you have a good time with just a few people?"

"I don't know, can you? Women often judge men who don't have enough acquaintances to throw a big party. Not, of course that I've ever had that issue. I have an enormous... amount of friends. You can meet them, if you'd like."

"Mr. Lestrange, I don't know that we're well enough acquainted for it to be appropriate for me to meet your friends."

"But they'd so like to meet you."

"They may just have to wait."

"But I'll let them know you're thinking about it?" His suggestive smirk grows to a broad grin. "Are you thinking about it? Right now? What my friends look like? How it might be to... shake hands with them?"

"Shake hands? I think not. How common. When I meet people, I prefer that French greeting- my mother is French you know."

"I've never been to France," he lies, blatantly. "Show me how?"

She gazes up through her lashes, considering the request, before standing on her toes and pressing a light kiss to each cheek. Tall as she is, he still needs to bend so she can reach. Her lips are soft but dry. "If I introduced you to my friends... would you show a bit more enthusiasm?"

She shoots him an irate glance as she draws away. "Are your friends difficult to please?"

"Not at all! Remember, they still like to put women first."

"Well then, they wouldn't want to inconvenience me by insisting I throw them a party."

"I suppose you're right," he agrees. "Chivalry is of utmost import. I'd hate you to think my friends or I were selfish."

"Your eyes say differently," she teases. He takes another step closer.

"Let me prove it to you."

"Alright." She lets her head fall back, waiting in anticipation with slitted eyes as he moves closer still.

"After you." He steps back suddenly, ushering her through the doorway once more.

(A/N: This is a little experiment. A snapshot flirtation between Roddy and Bella before they're well acquainted, written in the present tense (which I've never done before. I don't know if I like it). Opinions pretty please?)