A/N: Written for The 2012 Hogwarts Games, found at the HPFC forum. The event was Triathlon, and I was given one word prompt (evolution), one quote ("I will grow old or die trying") and the genre "mystery."
Dedicated to Morghen.
Many thanks to my beta-reader mew-tsubaki!
Just sit and wait, o lover of endings
Rodolphus Lestrange faced death three times. Twice, he narrowly slipped away. Once, he didn't. Obviously.
',.,'
Death was, however, not what scared him most; the first time, he could feel something beyond dragging at him, but that didn't scare him. What scared him was the look on Regulus' face.
He hadn't thought—he hadn't known—that what they had actually meant so much to the other man. Had he known, had he even suspected in the slightest that Regulus actually didn't just view him as someone he could shag in broom closets to get rid of all his tension and frustration…had he known that, he might not have so carelessly thrown his life around.
And apparently, he wasn't the only one who saw the horrified look on Regulus' face.
"But, boys, what is this I see?" The Dark Lord's stern lips softened and had it not been for the way his fingers kept rotating the wand between them, Rodolphus would have thought he was to keep his life for a little longer. But, alas, this was the Dark Lord, and Rodolphus had made a mistake that couldn't go without punishment.
None of them answered him, and Rodolphus could almost see how Regulus' eyes became more pained with every second that passed. Even though, he thought absently, it would be more logical if Regulus enjoyed those last moments of Rodolphus alive—and then let the hurt engulf him.
"I think I've found something here," the Dark Lord said tenderly. "Regulus, what would you say if I… Let me see…" He trailed off and then made a quick movement with his wand—and Rodolphus burned. His lungs became contorted, he screamed, and it hurt, Merlin, it hurt. He couldn't see; he couldn't feel anything but pain.
It continued and continued. He had no idea where he was, or how much time passed, and then it stopped. As abruptly as it had begun. When the white lights in front of his eyes disappeared, he realized he had fallen to the ground—and that he laid, his body still shuddering slightly, in Regulus' arms.
Regulus' eyes looked more pained now, and Rodolphus once again thought of how much he had misunderstood when it came to the younger man. "Has it stopped?" Regulus whispered, and Rodolphus heard the Dark Lord laugh in the background, but he could only focus on Regulus' fingers that danced across his cheek, his collarbone, his chest, as though he wanted to insure Rodolphus was intact.
"My plan was, indeed, to kill you." Now the Dark Lord's voice broke through, but Rodolphus still couldn't quite be frightened over the fact that there was a most overwhelming threat that he could die at any moment now. "Execution seemed like the most appropriate punishment for such a grave mistake, but I might have changed my mind. I think there is more to you than it seems, Lestrange."
Rodolphus didn't quite understand what the Dark Lord meant by that, but the next second he was hauled up on his feet and dragged out of the room. And death stayed in there. As soon as he was out, he knew he had escaped. That he was to continue living.
Regulus, though, didn't seem to be as relieved that he was. "I hate you," he mumbled, and he dropped the hold he had had of Rodolphus' wrist as soon as they were out of the room.
Rodolphus slumped against the wall, his feet not quite bearing him, but he couldn't really care as his body still felt numb to the core, only physical feeling registering. (Because if he was to talk about what he was feeling, it would take a whole lot of vocabulary that he didn't have and didn't want to be associated with, if he were to uphold his reputation as a Death Eater, at least.)
"Why? And wait—don't leave me here, Reg."
Regulus turned around sharply, his features becoming a hard mask. "Because, that made me realize how weak I am. This—it can't continue."
Rodolphus laughed. "So wait just a second—you're breaking up with me?" He swallowed and did his best to make his hands stop shaking. "Now?"
"Did we ever have something, Rod?" Regulus asked calmly. "Something that's possible to break up?"
"Yes. You just—in there—didn't you notice?" The words stumbled out of Rodolphus' mouth even though he did his best to stop them, or at least slow them down so as not to make him sound so desperate.
Regulus closed his eyes for a second, and then he crashed into Rodolphus and kissed him hungrily. His hands were like angry wolves, not letting Rodolphus' head leave the wall, and he pressed himself so tightly against Rodolphus that it was as though they were one. And never before had Regulus been so violent—he nibbled at Rodolphus' lips so that blood almost was shed, and Rodolphus knew he would have bruises on his arms where Regulus now held him.
"Don't," Regulus said when his lips parted from Rodolphus' by no more than an inch, "ever be that close to dying again."
Rodolphus grinned. "I will grow old or die trying," he said, reclaiming Regulus' lips. He quite enjoyed this angry side of Regulus.
Regulus rolled his eyes. "Because that helps a lot," he murmured, his soft lips pressing against Rodolphus' raspy cheeks.
',.,'
But then, Reg disappeared out of Rodolphus' life as though he never had been there. Rodolphus' search became more and more frantic, while the Dark Lord's claim to become the most powerful man more and more neared success, and Rodolphus' parents became more and more eager to marry off their son.
But Rodolphus couldn't. He had to find Reg. He just had to. He didn't know why Reg one day had disappeared. Because, in sheer honesty: Regulus was still there. But not Reg. In the meetings, there was merely a faint shadow of the man Rodolphus once had…yes, if he was being honest, loved, and occasionally Regulus would look at him and Rod would think Yes, now he's back, the glint will come, but it never did. Regulus stared emptily at him and Rodolphus kept wondering where Reg had gone, to where he had disappeared.
And, while a part of Rodolphus agitatedly searched for his Reg, another part of him searched for a way to grow old or die trying. Rodolphus knew that, if he didn't do something, he would be a dead man in mere months, because the Dark Lord wouldn't forget. And sure, that would mean he'd die trying—but as a matter of fact, he didn't think it would be enough. And, if he found a way, maybe that could lure out the Reg from the shell called Regulus, again.
He caught himself staring at Regulus' rosy lips during one meeting, musing over whether it was Regulus who had become paler and thus had made his lips contrast more against his skin—or if there was someone else kissing those lips and making them swollen and red.
But then his brother put an elbow in his ribs, and he shook his head to get rid of the hateful, blaring oh-Merlin-if-it's-someone-else-I'll-kill-him-or-her thoughts, and tried to focus on the meeting again.
Rabastan gave him a short look, brow furrowed, and Rodolphus swallowed. He hadn't thought his brother knew about him and Regulus, but as he came to consider it, maybe Rab had noticed something. Because, quite frankly, the two brothers were closer than the average brothers, and Rodolphus hadn't had any trouble grasping that Rabastan had had a thing for Bellatrix Black since a while ago.
It suddenly dawned on him: he would ask his brother for help.
',.,'
Rabastan sounded as though he was choking on his own throat, and Rodolphus mentally cursed himself for just blurting it all out as he had.
"So you're saying," Rab began while staring incredulously at Rodolphus, "you and Regulus Black have been screwing each other for a year and a half?"
"Yes, I believe that's what I just said—" Rodolphus answered, taking deep breaths not to strangle Rabastan to stop that hysterical laughter.
"I can't believe it."
"Yeah, but it's true. Now, would you please give me some advice here? And I would appreciate it if you didn't go in there looking so smug now—Mother and Father would realize… I don't want them to know, Rab."
"Sure, I won't tell." Rabastan grinned, patting Rodolphus' back. "Advice, though… Advice in how to make Black fall back in love with you?" He wiggled his eyebrows, clearly still humored by the entire idea of Rodolphus and Regulus together.
"No." Rodolphus let out another exaggerated sigh. "How not to be killed by the Dark Lord."
"Oh, that," Rabastan said, his face quickly turning more solemn. "I'll have to think that over."
"Please do—" Rodolphus began, when the sound of the door they stood in front of being opened interrupted them.
"Boys, whatare you doing out there?" Their mother's voice met them along with the scent of her perfume, and Rodolphus tried to smile at her as she hugged him.
"Sorry, Mother, we were just speaking."
"But you can speak inside. We've been waiting for you, the others are already here—what were you thinking?"
"The others?" Rodolphus asked as the short woman moved over to hug her other son, and Rabastan shrugged, still in her arms.
"Come now," she said, and she urged them in, either ignoring Rodolphus' question or not having heard. Rodolphus guessed on the former, knowing his mother.
They entered the large dining room, where Rabastan and Rodolphus had spent hours and hours sliding over the well-polished floor, playing hide-and-seek with the best hiding places ever (under the big cabinet in the corner), and enduring endless meals where they had to be quiet and behave.
"You're late," their father greeted them, and Rodolphus rolled his eyes. As per usual.
"By three minutes, Father," Rabastan said coldly, and their father crossed his arms in response.
"How long isn't the matter here, it's that you don't show respect that—" their father began, but then their mother chirped, "So, they are here now, dear, aren't they? Come on, boys, and greet our guests." Their father sank back in his chair while their mother's formerly composed appearance lost some of its charm, replaced with slight fluster.
A chuckle from the left made Rodolphus finally take a look at who the "others" were, and he was more than surprised to see the Blacks gathered in the dining room. Not all of them, because the one Black he would have preferred seeing wasn't there; no, this was Cygnus' family and not Orion's. At least, Rodolphus thought glumly, Rabastan would be glad to see Bellatrix.
But, instead, he found the young woman in question cast him a glance, followed by a smirk. As they took their seats by the table, Bellatrix, who sat next to Rodolphus, had her foot bumping into Rodolphus, and the feeling that there was something he had missed grew stronger and stronger in Rodolphus' stomach.
',.,'
"Mother, please, tell him that… Tell him this can't… That I can't…" Rodolphus finally turned to his mother. His father hadn't even acknowledged his pleas, and he just as desperately and embarrassingly now whined to his Mother—he couldn't do it.
It still felt as though his blood was frozen, when the thought of it returned: marriage with Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Rodolphus, darling," his mother said, but her voice wavered slightly from where she stood next to her husband who sat by his writing desk. "This is… It's been discussed thoroughly; it's what's best for you."
Rodolphus' fists clenched and he slumped down in the upholstered chair at the other end of the room, where Rabastan had occupied the second, adjacent chair. His brother hadn't uttered a word since the dinner had finished and the family had been urged into this room by Rodolphus.
"Best for whom, Mother?" Rodolphus asked, not caring about how he more and more lost his calm. "Best for your damned money, that is! Best for your fucking reputation, for your—"
"That's it. No such language in here, young man," his father said loudly, rising to stand. "I won't tolerate it. Get out of my house, now."
Rodolphus rose swiftly, stormed over to the door, and took great care to slam it shut behind him. Unfortunately, his father managed to perform a Cushioning Charm, and the entire effect was spoiled.
He hated them.
',.,'
Suddenly, Reg was gone again. He had been there, for approximately an hour, after Rodolphus had stumbled into his apartment and messily proclaimed how he hated his parents, hated his life, and hated being Rodolphus. Regulus hadn't cared about how Rodolphus' eyes were red-rimmed and how his hands were sweaty and shaky, but he had kissed him softly until Rodolphus had calmed down and they laid on Regulus' mattress in a heap of limbs and sheets.
But just as Rodolphus had begun to appreciate the fact that he felt as though he and Regulus were the same, that they were one and that no one would ever be able to separate them, Reg had disappeared, slipping out of the bed and into his bathroom.
And Rodolphus had followed and had knocked on the door and had had to listen to Regulus telling him it had been a mistake, that Rodolphus had to leave.
Rodolphus didn't know how much more he could take before he'd burst.
',.,'
The second time Rodolphus faced death, he felt as though he already had died. But, as he did slip away—only oh so narrowly—it was as though he woke up.
',.,'
"Don't drink that!" Avery's hand suddenly came into Rodolphus' sight, and the next second there was liquid all over the table.
"What the hell?" Rodolphus asked incredulously, and he tried to avoid the barman's glare.
"That was not beer, I'm one-hundred percent sure." Avery examined the remains in Rodolphus' glass, which he had snatched out of Rodolphus' hand quickly. It was Rodolphus' stag night, which had, so far, been a fiasco. Rabastan hadn't showed up, Rosier had claimed he had a headache and didn't feel like it, and Rodolphus had sat quietly contemplating the fact that he had barely any friends at all, while Avery had been drinking his head off. However, even though Avery was bound to be as drunk as a boat by this time, he apparently was more attentive than Rodolphus' sad self.
Rodolphus grabbed the glass instead and pointed his wand at it to make it reveal its true nature. And, lo and behold, the liquid turned black. "But who'd want to poison me?" he asked, his senses suddenly more awake than they had been in months. The last time he had felt this much liveliness, had been in Re— No, he shouldn't think of that now, not only two nights before his wedding. It wouldn't do any good.
Avery gazed at Rodolphus with narrowed eyebrows, and Rodolphus got the inkling the other man didn't take the matter at hand seriously. Or he was too smashed to comprehend it. "Maybe…," he said slowly, "…someone jealous of your impending marriage to Bellatrix."
Rodolphus let out a short laugh before he recalled that he was supposed to look forward to his marriage. "Eh… So that person believes killing me would make Bella fall in love with them?"
Avery bobbed his head passionately, missing the tone of sarcasm in Rodolphus' voice completely.
"You, Rodolphus," Avery slurred, leaning over and poking Rodolphus' chest, "have an enemy."
Rodolphus nodded to keep Avery content, while his own mind was buzzing. Someone was out to kill him. It couldn't be the Dark Lord, not this time. It wasn't a question—for one, the Dark Lord wouldn't assassinate someone in this way; he'd do it publicly to make a statement out of it. And two, Rodolphus was quite certain that death threat had been removed as the Dark Lord had heard of Rodolphus' upcoming marriage to Bellatrix, since the Dark Lord seemed to enjoy seeing his Death Eaters joined in matrimony, for some strange reason.
But who else could it be, then? His father had, as soon as Rodolphus had accepted his plans for his son's life, been a whole lot nicer towards Rodolphus, and anyway he didn't think his mother would allow her husband to kill their son. He was…quite certain of it.
"Avery," he said suddenly. "I need to go. Thanks for…eh…making my stag night spectacular."
Avery grinned and patted Rodolphus' back as the two of them stood up. "Thank you, mate," he said, wobbling slightly.
Rodolphus gave the shorter man a smile, which he guessed was closer to a grimace, and hurried from the bar.
There was only one person he'd trust with this, and even though that person had been missing from his life in months, everything felt so different right now that he was certain that would be different as well.
',.,'
"Who's there?" Regulus' voice floated out through the door to his apartment and Rodolphus swallowed hard. He didn't want to stutter or sound upset.
"It's me, Reg," he said shortly.
"Oh. Rodolphus. What do you want?" In no matter of time, Regulus' voice had turned edgy, and Rodolphus sighed to himself. He really needed Reg right now.
"Reg, please just let me in. I… It's…sort of an emergency."
"What's happened?" Regulus asked, but he didn't even begin to rattle the locks.
"Lots of things. I need to speak to you—I need your help."
On the other side of the door, it was eerily silent. Then, a soft noise that resembled a deep breath sounded. "With what?"
"With… Ah, well, someone just tried to kill me." Rodolphus didn't quite know how to put it, that he wanted Regulus to help him figure out who had killed him—while at the same time it felt as though he wanted Regulus to make everything go back to normal (or as normal as one could call the relationship the two of them had had) and make Rodolphus forget everything about what would happen in only two days.
"Come again?" Regulus said.
"Someone just poisoned my drink, and if Avery hadn't noticed I'd be dead now."
Once more it became quiet. "…Avery?"
"Yes. Come on, Reg, just open the door and let me in. I want to speak to you."
Suddenly the door flew open, and Regulus stood there. Rodolphus had to take a step backwards so as not to get the door in his face, but then he stayed there, as Regulus didn't resemble himself whatsoever. The man in front of him was pale as a sheet, had dark rings beneath his eyes, and was so thin that Rodolphus almost wondered if he was at the right door.
"Reg, what's happened to you?"
"What were you and Avery doing?" Regulus spat out, ignoring Rodolphus' question completely.
"It was my stag night," Rodolphus answered quickly. "But what's going on, Reg, you look like—"
Regulus took a step backwards, his hands hovering over the door handle, and it seemed as though he had calmed down slightly as he spoke again. "That's not why you came, was it now? I thought you wanted to discuss your almost-death?"
Rodolphus swallowed, as the venom in Regulus' voice was putting him quite off-guard. Once again, he didn't recognize the man in front of him, but this time for completely different reasons. The animosity that shone from Regulus' face was a completely new feature. "Yes, that was my thought," he answered slowly.
Regulus laughed bitterly. "I believe I have more important things to do, Lestrange."
That hurt.
',.,'
"So, how's it feeling?" Rabastan asked as he straightened out Rodolphus' collar. Rodolphus was standing in front of a mirror, lost in deep thoughts.
"Rab, someone tried to kill me on my stag night."
"What?"
"Yeah," Rodolphus answered.
"Avery didn't mention that," Rabastan said, one of his hands twisting at his side.
"Did he also mention how drunk he was that night?" Rodolphus asked sarcastically. He had decided to voice the, to borrow Regulus' words, almost-death to Rabastan on a whim. Maybe it wasn't the best moment to do so, as the two brothers soon would have to walk out of the little dressing room and into the hall where the wedding would be held. But, as Rabastan had been lounging about since even before their mother had arrived with thousands of opinions on whether Rodolphus should comb his hair to the right or to the left and so on, he had suddenly realized he needed to confide in someone.
Rabastan laughed, a bit frantic. "No, that he didn't. But, anyway—really? Why haven't you said something?"
"I don't know." Rodolphus looked down at his newly ironed trousers. "Rab, I think it was Regulus."
Rabastan's eyes widened. "What—why?" However, he cast a glance down at his wristwatch and gave Rodolphus an apologetic and stern look. "We'll have to talk about this later. Now, let's get you a wife."
',.,'
Bellatrix's hair was, for once, not unruly but kept in a tight bun on her head as she stood next to Rodolphus. They held hands and both of them stared straight ahead at the short wizard who held the ceremony.
Rodolphus didn't hear a word of what the man was saying. He had a slightly strange feeling in his gut, something that could be dismissed as paranoia, but Rodolphus actually did feel a bit exposed as he stood with his back to all the wedding guests. What if someone directed a curse at him…? It could happen, if the person was desperate.
Suddenly Bellatrix squeezed his hand, nails digging into his skin.
Rodolphus blinked and said "I do" as the wizard looked expectantly at him. Apparently it was the right thing to say, because Bellatrix echoed his words, and then she leaned forward to kiss him.
Her eyes sparkled as she whispered "So you and my dear cousin, then?" and Rodolphus hadn't time even to breathe out a response before she let her lips meet his in a kiss that probably looked sweet to everyone assembled but felt to Rodolphus as though it mocked him.
Then, he was a husband.
',.,'
"Evolution is what has brought mankind to where it is today: on top of the world. But, evolution is still on-going, and we, who possess magic, pure blood, have the chance of helping it along—because we are the race that evolution has led up to." The Dark Lord's speech buzzed in the background and Rodolphus had so much trouble stopping himself from tuning out. He did his best not to drift away, but his eyes kept jumping back to Regulus, who sat on the other side of the table, as thin and pale and as unyielding as ever.
Rodolphus couldn't decide whether he wished for his ideas about Regulus being the one to kill him to be true or not. In a way, it would be easier, because then he'd know when to be on guard, but still, it was Reg.
"Pay attention," Bellatrix said under her breath, her eyes not leaving the Dark Lord's figure at the end of the table.
Rodolphus closed his eyes for a brief moment and tried to empty his head. He hadn't thought having a wife would be this annoying—and it had only been two days.
Right now, he just wished for the meeting to be over and for a cold beer; he would suggest to Rabastan that their planned appointment where they would finally discuss the problem at hand would take place in a bar somewhere.
',.,'
"So, from the beginning now. Why do you think Regulus was the one who poisoned your drink?" Rabastan asked, his finger tracing a vein in the wooden table.
"Well," Rodolphus began. It felt a bit strange now, as he thought of it, how to base an accusation so grave on a mere hunch. But on the other hand, he needed to say it to someone, and his brother was the only one he trusted enough. "I went to see him straight afterward, and he acted very strangely—and he's just seemed…so hostile lately."
Rabastan chewed on his lower lip. "Well, it could make sense, couldn't it?"
"How?"
"He might be, I don't know, scared that your relationship would come out."
Rodolphus nodded slowly, taking another sip of his drink and enjoying the burning feeling in his throat.
"Like, he's so desperate to keep it a secret that he's tipped over, gone mad. The Blacks…have always seemed to be close to insanity, haven't they?" Rabastan's eyes glinted slightly, and then he added, "Not to insult your wife, brother."
Rodolphus laughed. "No offense taken. And yes, that sounds logical."
Rabastan smiled.
"But what should I do about it?"
"About Regulus? I don't know. I don't think outing him would do any good, and I don't think…you know, killing him, would solve things."
Rodolphus tried to ignore the ease he felt spreading through his body with Rabastan's final words. He hadn't even known he was worried about this, but apparently he had been.
"You better just keep an eye out."
Rodolphus nodded. "I'll do that."
They smiled at each other, and Rodolphus thought that even though he had lost Regulus, he might be able to fill the Reg-shaped hole in his heart with the friendship he and his brother had. And any spaces there'd be, because of Rabastan not perfectly fitting, could be filled with alcohol, Rodolphus supposed as he took another wig of his drink.
',.,'
"Lestrange, a word," the Dark Lord said—or rather, commanded. Rodolphus pulled his gaze off the chair which was supposed to be inhabited by Regulus, but it had been empty for two weeks straight now. He realized the meeting room was completely empty, except for him and the Dark Lord, and he hurried to stand.
"Yes, milord?" He didn't even have the time to worry over whether the Dark Lord suddenly, almost a year later, had remembered how he once had been out to kill him, because, quite frankly, Regulus' absence had been numbing him since that day he had realized Regulus wasn't just at home sick but gone.
It was strange, though, because he should have felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders by Regulus not being in the vicinity, but instead it made it feel as though something kept gnawing at his insides.
"I assume you've also noticed Black's absence. Do you have a clue as to where he might be?"
"No, unfortunately not," Rodolphus said, and his heart sank. So it wasn't a mission Regulus had been sent on, either.
"Very well. Let me know if you hear something. He and I have…business that needs to be cleared." Something danced in the corner of the Dark Lord's mouth, possibly a smile.
Rodolphus would not tell the Dark Lord if he, ever, found Regulus again.
And for a second he let himself dwell on the idea of finding Reg, and the two of them running away and never returning. Then he nodded to the Dark Lord, shunning all such thoughts away. Regulus had, in fact, been out to kill him.
',.,'
It was not what he'd expected. It was…it was surprising, to the least.
He needed Rabastan. He needed someone to confirm it, that it was real, that the letter in his hand wasn't just a feeble imagining his mind had come up with to be at ease so as not to have to think of Regulus every waking moment.
Since another couple of months passed without a trace of Regulus, Rodolphus slowly became a shadow of himself—he ate far too little, couldn't sleep at all, and interaction with people had become something that felt like a memory from someone else's life.
So he needed Rabastan to tell him that he wasn't dreaming. Because even though the knowledge that he had received the letter and that its contents were real would probably suffocate him, it would at least be a change. And maybe, after a while, he would accept it and even move on.
But right now, that felt as a future too far away, not even worth contemplating. And first of all, he needed Rab.
He knocked rapidly on Rabastan's door, but when no one came to open it, he unlocked the door with a spell Rabastan had given him for "just in case, you know." Rodolphus didn't take long until deciding this was a "case."
He swung the door open to the bedroom…and stopped dead in his tracks.
No one said anything. Rodolphus stared at Rabastan, whose eyes kept widening, until Bellatrix let out an eerie giggle. "Hello, husband," she said, covering her naked body with the plaid that laid at the end of the bed she and Rabastan occupied.
"You two?" Rodolphus asked, not certain he formed the words correctly.
Rabastan sat up, rummaging through the sheets that lay in a pile on the floor to find something to put on. "Rod," he said, sounding distressed. "What are you doing here—I mean, it's been a while—"
"Rabastan, I need to speak with you right now," Rodolphus said, suddenly remembering what he held in his hand. Sure, Rabastan and Bellatrix together was, to say the least, shocking, but with the letter burning against his skin, he really couldn't focus on anything else.
"Ah, sure. What about?" Rabastan said, and he dragged Rodolphus with him out of the bedroom, leaving a still giggling Bellatrix behind him, and into the kitchen. "And first of all—how mad are you?"
"Rab, don't worry about that now. Just…just read this," Rodolphus said, shoving the letter into Rabastan's face, which was scrunched up in some kind of pre-apology expression.
"What?" Rabastan asked but as he began to read, his face smoothed out and then altered into confusion, and finally he looked even more worried than before.
Rodolphus took a deep breath, and it felt as though time had stopped as the two brothers looked at each other.
Then they spoke at the same time. "Is it true—is he dead?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Rod."
"So he is…dead?"
"Er, well, that's not what I was referring to, to be honest." Rabastan's face once more crumpled, and as the man was clad only in a half-buttoned shirt and underwear, he looked absolutely minimal.
"What were you referring to, then?" Rodolphus felt extremely confused now, and since he couldn't quite focus on anything until he had found out whether Regulus was, as he said in the letter, dead, he felt himself becoming more and more irritated.
"Something I should have told you a long time ago."
"Wait. Tell me, before anything else, if this letter is real and if Regulus really is dead," Rodolphus said sharply.
His brother looked at him with something that resembled curiosity behind the shameful countenance. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Rodolphus sat down. "Oh." Regulus was dead. Gone. His head began spinning and he had to grab hold of the table to make it stop.
"Rod? Rod, how are you?" Rabastan's voice floated in from somewhere, but all Rodolphus could focus on was how the words in the letter "Rodolphus, whenever you read this, I am dead. I just wanted to thank you for that time we had. And I'm sorry that it couldn't be more. I did love you. I did" were true, that they had been written by Regulus and that there no longer was a Regulus in this world.
"He's gone," Rodolphus said, and then he looked up at Rabastan with a tiny smile. "At least I know it, then."
Rabastan looked worriedly at him and then said, "There's something else you should know about that. It was never Regulus that tried to kill you," he blurted out quickly.
Rodolphus' brain did some kind of swirl, but it didn't change the way his heart pounded gone, gone, almost so loud he couldn't hear anything else. But still—it wasn't Regulus—there was something to those words. It wasn't Regulus. Reg, his Reg, had never tried to kill him, had never wanted to see him dead.
When his brain finally had registered it, a sad smile spread on his lips and he looked at his brother again. "He never tried to kill me," he repeated.
Rabastan's face seemed a bit contorted and he kept opening and closing his mouth. "Rod, listen to me. It… It was Bella and I."
Rodolphus stared at Rabastan while his mind kept chanting it wasn't Reg, it wasn't Reg, it wasn't Reg. "Wait, what?"
Rabastan looked down and stepped backwards, as though he was afraid Rodolphus would attack him. Maybe that was what he was supposed to do, Rodolphus mused absently, but his body felt stiff and unmoving again. "She… Or, well, we… It was… Well, we were already having an affair—of sorts…" Rabastan paused for a brief moment, his nose scrunching a bit. "…when your marriage was announced. And then, well, I got upset. And she found about you and Reg—and she, I don't know, became jealous. I don't really always know how her mind works." He laughed nervously, and Rodolphus silently agreed, as it felt as though ice-cold water had been poured all over him and he was only now waking up. "And she, we, decided that killing you would…solve things."
"When did it change? Why did you stop trying to…kill me?" Rodolphus asked, shuffling up a bit in his chair—and noticing that Rabastan jolted backwards ever so slightly.
"Because, ah, for me it was because I realized you are the only one I can trust." Rabastan's fingers shook slightly where they rested against the table.
"And for Bella?" As Rodolphus uttered the last question, he realized he didn't care. Rabastan's answer had mattered slightly, but then the chanting returned in his head, louder this time, and he shuffled so that gone, gone, he's gone melted together and blended in with it wasn't Reg, it wasn't him, he never tried to kill me.
"I think she realized that we two could still have something, and then you and Reg drifted apart. And he disappeared."
Rodolphus heard Rabastan's answer and nodded, but his head swam with images of Regulus and he just wanted to lie down and cry.
',.,'
The final time Rodolphus knew death was about to drag him down with him, he was quite eager to go.
',.,'
There where flashes of lights and muffled screams and Rodolphus thought of how he now, for the first time in so many years and finally on the verge of dying, actually felt alive. His heart was pounding madly, and adrenaline was floating through his veins.
He would die, in a matter of hours now.
And he couldn't wait. The years that had passed since Regulus' death had been announced had been slow-moving and creeping under his skin, and nothing really had mattered anymore. It had felt as though he was caught in something sticky that held him in place, and the only time things had escalated had been the time in Azkaban.
He still shuddered recalling the darkness and how his mind had played tricks at him. How he had screamed.
But now…now he actually felt as though he was living, as though he was a human. He watched a body fall to the floor in front of him, hit by an unknown curse-caster, and he quickly hunched out of reflex.
He didn't care who'd win this battle, because while he might have been an avid follower of the Dark Lord after Reg's death, it had only been a weak attempt to the fill the hole after Reg. And now…now all he cared about was leaving this world behind.
He had seen Bellatrix felled by the Prewett sister's hand, but he hadn't felt a thing.
He had watched his brother be massacred by an enchanted stone statue—but he only felt a tiny stab, which quickly faded away.
The battle raged around him, but Rodolphus let his arm fall to his side. Evolution was what the Dark Lord once had talked about, but if there were many people like Rodolphus, people that embraced death and welcomed it, that plan was bound eventually to fail.
And Rodolphus' only plan was to die now. Die, and meet Regulus again. Die, and ask for Reg's forgiveness. Die.