War and battle was about to commence. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. He faithfully followed the Dark Lord through it all, even if Rabastan felt a small form of resentment toward the man, not that he would ever make his opinion clear. The Dark Lord had allowed certain things to go on too long and too far, and Rabastan did not feel it was very becoming of a Dark Lord or a woman. Rabastan knew what it was like to hold the affections of a woman, he had admittedly lost his love long ago but there was a difference between the affections of a single woman and a married woman who did not know her place.
As he and the other Death Eaters waited Rabastan could hardly look in the direction of the Dark Lord seeing as she was there next to him fawning over him like some sick lost puppy. Did she even see her self? Where was such fawning adoration for his brother? No, she demands that Rodolphus be the fawning and adoring one. It was not befitting. She even wanted him as the brother to do the same, which was beyond being out of the question.
As the harpy fawned over the Dark Lord Rabastan could not look in that direction he kept his face as blank as possible which was how he usually found himself. He was almost always a master of his emotions. He did loose it in Azkaban and when he learned of Arrabella Wilkes, no he could not think of it, emotion was a weakness and he tried to abstain from it. Arrabella had been a weakness and she nearly destroyed him. Though if he had the option to do it all over again he would have acted in the same way.
Once things were set and the now dead Potter was in place everyone moved forward. This was the time, the time for battle the time to enter the fray himself. He was non pulsed by it, to live or die was no matter to Rabastan it seemed almost as if he had little to live for yet here he was still living and willing to fight to remain alive. It was funny how that small bit of human nature seemed to play out even for him.
As the scene played out before him Rabastan hardly observed as people still thought to oppose the Dark Lord. It was futile really considering the death of Potter, but there were those that would stupidly fight till the end for what they believed in much like he fought for life and the Dark Lord whom he hardly believed in anymore. It seemed that he remained solely out of habit and loyalty to his brother who seemed all but to forget him.
Though time seemed to move slowly the events that set things into motion seemed to flash before Rabastan's eyes in mere seconds and the battle was at hand he had two student attempt to take him on. They were young and clearly naive. What were they sixteen? Seventeen? He remembered being that young, his brother saying he was too young to join up with the Dark Lord. Yet Regulus the traitor was inducted in before him at a younger age. It was almost as if he own brother didn't want him around, and that thought sparked a rage in Rabastan that he did not know existed. With that rage he yelled out a senseless sound as his wand produced a spell of great power and force. It wasn't that the sound produced the spell but his sudden rage which tore loose from his body. It sent both students flying away from him. Dead or alive were they he did not know nor did he care. That small battle was done and it was time to move on to bigger and better things.
Things continued forward Rabastan taking out another opponent or two before he her. There she was taking on three children at once. He stood and watched a moment as the mother a Weasley if he was not mistaken took her on instead. Though Rabastan hated Bellatrix the battle seemed laughable at best. What would this woman hold against her? He watched on as the battle commenced. It was as if he was not there because none engaged him in battle. That or those around him came to watch as well as this mother was more than likely going to die. It seemed as if her fate was sealed when Bellatrix hit on that rage captured inside that woman and had her fate sealed.
Rabastan looked on with awe as the spell seemed to creep across the sky right into Bellatrix's chest. The look on the harpie's face was shock more than anything else and she was down. Bellatrix was down, she was dead. Her vileness had come to an end. His brother was free of her wicked spell and things might look up. It was practical cause of celebration!
Ding Dong! The Witch is dead. Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!
Ding Dong! The Wicked Witch is dead.
A/N: Quote from "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" from Wizard of Oz.