Rodolphus sat on his cot, a book open on his lap, his chipped wand raised. Looking up, he mumbled a spell and furrowed his brow. He stared hard at the small, empty birdcage at the far side of the room. With a flick of his wand, he severed it neatly in two. The metal fell to the wood floor with a crash, dust flying. Rodolphus smiled with yellow teeth.
His brother, Rabastan, awoke. He was still in bed with the fever he had developed after the escape. He muttered something to his brother, turning under the pale, sweaty sheets.
"Do that somewhere else…"
"My leg hurts. I don't want to."
"Well I…" he trailed off, bringing the quilt over his nose. Rodolphus gave another glance to the birdcage and licked his finger to turn a page in his book. The counter curse would be in the next paragraph…
"Rodolphus." A voice called from the doorway. Rodolphus looked up from memorizing to see Peter Pettigrew just outside the room. He hadn't shaved and lips were chapped,
"What?"
"Bring him." He nodded to the man on the far side of the room. "You need to come into the parlor."
"I didn't feel my mark burn…"
"It's not the Dark Lord. It's your brother."
"My brother is…" He motioned to the cot where Rabastan shivered,
"No he…Please, just go down there." Pettigrew pursed his lips and turned to go when Rodolphus stood to wake his brother.
Bellatrix was already seated on a sofa when the two wizards descended into the parlor. Rodolphus, helping his brother down the stairs, viewed the scene below. A stout woman, with white hair, and a powdered face wrung her hands at the base of the stairs, next to Severus Snape who loomed over a gentleman, who looked remarkably familiar. The man was seated in a chair, a pensieve in his lap. He looked dazed, his mouth open, his eyes lazily looking from person to person. The wizard in the chair had stringy, brown hair, a curved nose that made him look like a weasel, thin lips, and a sharp chin. Snape had the tip of his wand pressed to the man's temple and was whispering something. The man shook for a moment and then blinked hard, looking even dizzier than before, his eyes drooping. When the woman with white hair saw Rodolphus and Rabastan, her glossy eyes brightened.
"What's this?" Rodolphus asked quickly, helping his brother to balance as they finished their descent. He found himself unable to take his eyes off of the man in the chair.
"Your brother." Severus answered, concentrating on the spells he was casting, not caring to look up at Rodolphus.
"What…"
"The first night we were here," Bellatrix said from the couch, leaning back, "a few men had forgotten their identities entirely. Well one of them was Rabastan…"
"And I had to choose which one I thought…" Rodolphus marveled, still supporting the ill wizard at his side.
"And you chose wrong." Bellatrix explained tartly, licking her chapped lips.
"Yes," Snape affirmed, "regrettably. And it wasn't until he coughed up some strange memory about his childhood that Ms. Dolohov realized that the man she had been caring for was not her brother." Ms. Dolohov was staring at her feverish brother, but she did not near him,
"So this is Antonin…" Rodolphus remarked, glancing at the shuddering wizard who gripped his arm tight,
"Yes."
"What?" Antonin Dolohov questioned groggily, staring up at Rodolphus,
"I didn't…" began the woman in a timid voice, "I mean I thought Azkaban had just changed him so much…"
"What are you doing to him?" Interrupted Rodolphus, walking with Antonin to where Rabastan Lestrange sat with his head lolling,
"Erasing the memories of Dolohov's life that were fed to him. I'll have to do the same to Antonin. They'll begin over again, going through their penesives…"
"Should I sit him down?" Rodolphus asked, his mind spinning,
"Yes," instructed Snape, drawing his wand away from Rabastan's forehead, "across from Bellatrix. The armchair." Ms. Dolohov followed, dragging her feet, glancing at the staircase when she turned. Now that Rodolphus looked, Antonin was much different looking than his brother. Antonin was taller, with more sagging muscles. His face was different, too. Antonin's eyes were beady and wet while Rabastan's were rounder, darker, like his. Both of the men did have very similar texture to their hair.
"What? What…" Antonin moaned, clutching Rodolphus' arm even tighter, "No…What…I'm not…"
"Sit down." Rodolphus said when Antonin swatted his arm weakly. He forced the other wizard into the chair,
"Not so rough with him!" Squeaked his elderly sister. Rodolphus passed her a look and she added, "Please."
When Antonin sat down, Snape immediately went to work. Ms. Dolohov stood before her brother, watching his twisted face slacken under the influence of the numbing spells. Bellatrix didn't like being crowded. She stood from her seat and moved around the smaller witch.
Bellatrix strode towards the thin chair that her brother-in-law was sagging in. Rabastan was, of course, disoriented. His tongue did a lazy lap around the inside of his mouth and his dark eyes slowly soaked her in. In his lethargy, his twig fingers on his left hand drummed rapidly against the edge of the pensive. She remembered that about him; the tremors.
"I'll have him start." She said to Snape. Without waiting for permission, the witch took the back of her brother-in-law's hair and slowly pushed his head towards the bowl in his lap. He tensed a little, straining, resisting, but eventually, his scrawny form doubled in the chair and his face disappeared beneath the water.
"You could at least make him comfortable…" Rodolphus reprimanded, limping to his wife and brother after exchanging a few words with Dolohov's sister.
"He won't remember. He won't care." A little laugh escaped her. She didn't look at her husband,
"I can't believe I didn't realize…"
"I can." Bella said simply, going to sit on the stairs. Rodolphus frowned, gazing at the back of Rabastan's head, "You barely knew who you were for a few weeks. How can you expect yourself to have recognized everyone else…"
Ms. Dolohov yelped from across the room. Rodolphus looked up swiftly. Bellatrix did, too. Her wand was in her hand immediately. Snape didn't break concentration from the spell,
"What?" Bellatrix rasped as finally Snape looked up. Ms. Dolohov jumped up, faster than anyone else thought she could have, to kneel on the sofa, her mouth covered with her hands, staring at the stairs. "What?" Bellatrix whipped around. Nagini was slipping slowly down the steps. Bellatrix pocketed her wand.
"That's the Dark Lord's snake." Severus explained, returning to his work, "It's all right." Bellatrix was releasing chattering chuckles through their crooked teeth at the older witch's panic,
"I know it's His." She uttered, not moving from her place on the couch. Bellatrix watched the shining serpent glide past her, not even looking at her, while Rodolphus noted,
"Ms. Dolohov, she won't hurt you."
"But it's his. He is in the house then…"
"Of course." Said Bellatrix with a fluttering smile, looking directly at Ms. Dolohov while Nagini circled the chair Rabastan sat in, flicking her black tongue. The older witch stared at the snake while her face lost its redness. They all watched the serpent slink around Rodolphus' legs, climb the stairs again, and then disappear behind the banister on the second floor.
Nagini moved quickly down the corridor, staying close to the wall, the loose floorboards silent under her. She rounded a corner, finding the main stairs to the third and fourth floor before her. The snake lifted her head and began her ascent. These steps were very unlike those leading up from the parlor to the first floor. These were spiraling and steeper, and halfway up the staircase the carpet upon them faded to grey, then to black. Nagini felt the ash on her belly and her tongue tasted ancient smoke when she lapped up the air.
The third floor stretched out before her. It was the brightest place in the entire Manor during the days. The chilly March sunlight gushed through the gaping hole that sat on the West side of the house. Everything was overturned here. The floor had been left untouched for years and the tape strung around the legs of upside down tables and shattered china cabinets had been painted with dust over the years. Nagini stayed to the side of the space, trying to avoid looking into the white light. There was a path through the rubble where two distinct tracks could be seen in the old ash, the feet of two men and the long running tracks of the snake.
The serpent hurried through the third floor, repulsed by the stench of all the rotting muggle things. She was relieved to smell the fresh magic wafting from the fourth floor when she scaled the final staircase. Nagini slunk down the long hall, passing locked door after locked door, her head twitching to the side when she smelled a rat in one of the boarded up chambers, and then continuing to the second to last room in the corridor.
"What is it?" Her master asked her in Parseltongue when she entered. The room was bright with the violently trembling light of all the candles lit there.
Lord Voldemort was staring up at the ceiling, his white neck stretching, his head resting back in his chair. He had turned the seat away from his desk at an angle, to face the shuttered bay window.
"An interesting situation downstairs." Nagini told him, quickly moving to slither over his bare feet, "Rodolphus Lestrange mistook Dolohov to be his brother the night that they returned. Dolohov's sister had been caring for Rabastan Lestrange until now. She's just brought him. Severus is repairing their memories…"
"Is it all sorted out?"
"Yes."
"Will they be strong enough to relearn their dueling skills tomorrow?"
"I don't know…" Nagini climbed up onto the Dark Lord's stretching, pristine desk, gently crushing a few of his papers with her soft belly. She reprimanded him, "You are not working."
"I am not well, Nagini. I do not want to attempt to work and find myself slower witted than I have to be. This must be done precisely…"
"What is wrong, exactly?"
"My head. My stomach…It's this new body."
"What? It's perfect. Nothing is wrong with it." Nagini insisted, slinking around the two candles he was using as paperweights. The orange light brought a shuddering gleam to her eyes, turning them scarlet,
"Something is. I think Wormtail did something wrong."
'He followed it exactly."
"I don't know…." Voldemort shifted, finally looking at the snake on the desk, "I cannot think clearly." His eyes were dim with tired streaks beneath them.
"Clearly." The snake said nastily.
"This is not apathy, this is illness, Nagini, do not get short with me."
"Ill or not, you need to work. Would Albus Dumbledore wait for illness to pass?" Suddenly, with a wave of her Master's hand, the snake flipped from the desk and tumbled to the carpet along with two candles. She lashed around and hissed. Part of the carpet was starting to burn, "I am trying to help!" He scoffed, silencing the flames with a twitch of his thumb and she reared back, "Control yourself. Control your new body." Nagini spat up at him. Their eyes flashed,
"I am trying." The Dark Lord turned and sat down. Nagini took in a breath through her nostrils and moved to him again, ducking under the darkness of the desk. She carefully climbed up his legs and wrapped around the back of the chair. Nagini rested her chin on her master's shoulder, her head rising and falling when he took in a long breath,
"Don't think about her…" She whispered to him, pushing against his neck. "You need nothing from her."
Voldemort shifted in his chair, pressing two fingers to his mouth, his brow wrinkling,
"The details…"
"About her?"
"Yes, the details about her. Her eyes. They are different than I recall. What if she is under a curse, or what if this is not Bellatrix Lestrange at all but she…"
"You are speaking nonsense. You cannot be paranoid about her loyalties. She is arguably the most faithful. You know that. If you cannot trust her, you cannot trust a soul…"
"This is ridiculous."
"Then perhaps distraction. Find one." Nagini urged, lifting her head and peering around the room.
"Yes." Voldemort twisted, jostling his pet and immediately reached for a thick piece of paper on his desk. It was bent at two of the corners and a large crease ran up the center of it. "How will Lucius get all of them to the chamber…"
"When I spied there I found nothing with an entrance from the outside…" Nagini said, sliding a ways down her Master's arm to eye over the floor plan he clutched.
"There is no where to hide well for an entire day..." The hand-drawn map of the Department of Mysteries was marked upby Lucius Malfoy's swooping emerald pen strokes.
"You need all of them?"
"Yes, I must have every single one of them that I selected go…"
"Why not go yourself? I will tell you again," Nagini said, "Cornelius Fudge will not…"
"I will not risk it. Potter will not come alone. If someone more credible were to see me alive…"
"But you only have a single chance at obtaining the prophecy, why not go yourself…"
"I do not want to duel Potter without hearing the prophesy…What happened in June was due to my over eagerness. There are far too many forces between us that I have yet to decipher to risk facing him myself again. Now is not the time…"
"He is a child…"
"He is unskilled, yes, Nagini. And everyone knows that it is not by his efforts or his own power that he has evaded his death so many times. He is a perfectly ordinary wizard who has been blessed with protection he does not deserve. I will kill him cleanly and efficiently when I do kill him. However, now is not the time, as I've told you again and again. I cannot afford another surprise and I certainly can not afford to evoke another Priori Incantantum when the prophecy might warn me about how to avoid such a pointless thing." He let his eyes rove over the map, "But where do they wait for him..." his thin lip curled and he leaned back, setting the map down,
"I think you should be worrying about how to lure the boy there and just let Lucius sort out how to get the others into the Hall of Prophecy…"
"Just let him." Voldemort lightly shook Nagini from his arm with a scoff. She coiled up at the feet of the desk, gazing up at him. "Nagini I chose him to carry out the plan, not design it…"
"He works there…"
"And he works for me. I don't care if he knows the building. I cannot trust him with this…I could never let any of them create…" He paused, eyes stopping on the page, "Lucius will be too conservative about it. Perhaps I should have chosen someone more aggressive and someone more aggressive alone to lead them so there would be no unneeded stalling... Do you think she could lead them herself? She's improved…"
"Bellatrix is unstable."
"She's improving."
"It would be a risk. You cannot afford it."
"Before it would not have been a question. She would lead them and it would go well…"
"It is not 'before' any longer, it is now…" Nagini whispered intensely and watched as the Dark Lord's scarlet eyes trailed away,
"And things are quite different…"
"Rodolphus!" A lanky boy with a sharp face hurried onto the bridge. His robes fluttered behind him and his tie blew up and over his shoulder, "Hey! Rodophus!" The wooden beams grunted beneath his swift steps. His brother, up ahead, turned and the wind that swept up from the crevice below blew into his thick dark hair.
"What?" Rodolphus asked in a deep voice, which was, like the other boy's, laced with the ghost of a French accent. He leaned on the railing until his brother caught him,
"Did you get one?" Rabastan produced a wrinkled, white envelope from inside his pocket,
"Of course I got one."
"Will you do it then? Should I? Should we?"
"Bellatrix supposes I should…" Rodolphus started to walk across the suspended, mossy bridge again. His leaner brother followed quickly,
"So you will?"
"That doesn't mean I will…"
"Usually does." Rabastan frowned a little,
"For Merlin's sake. Just because she wants me to doesn't mean I'll do it. She doesn't have me on a leash. And why are you bothering me about this, it's just a club. If I join I join, if I don't I don't."
"Well, I won't join if you don't."
"Oh…" Rodolphus drawled sarcastically, drawing the collar of his cloak tighter around his neck to expel the October chill, "So I'm girlish if Bellatrix is what sways my decisions and you're not girlish at all for not wanting to do something on your own." Rabastan's brow furrowed,
"Well since I didn't make the quidditch team I thought this was something we could do together."
"Without Bellatrix." Rodolphus noted,
"Maybe."
"Did you even talk to Uncle about this Tom Riddle guy. The sponsor?"
"No and I don't think we should. He'd never let us."
"What the hell!" Rabastan barked, clutching his arm, losing his balance as his brother, with the screaming Bellatrix in tow, shouldered past him and up the stairs. He watched the trail of her dark dress disappear as she was yanked up the stairs. Rabastan heard a door on the first floor splinter and clatter to the ground. His stomach twisted and he aimed his wand at the stairs and the darkness below that was suddenly broken by the light of an auror's wand. With a snap of his wrist, Rabastan set fire to the steps. The wood blazed yellow and sparks flew up in his face. He heard the shouts of the wizards below, but didn't care to listen.
Rabastan ducked back into the bedroom, pushing Barty towards the back corner of the room where the bleeding, shuddering Longbottoms were babbling. The child was on the floor wailing. Rabastan stepped over the infant and dragged Barty, who had tears flying from his eyes, behind the crib. He threw a spell at the window, but it merely glowed blue and remained as it was.
"Damn it! Damn it!" Rabastan panted while Barty wailed,
"Break it! Open it…"
"They have the house sealed off! I can't fucking break it!" Rabastan pushed Barty a little ways away from him, "Hold your wand up. Let's go. We can beat them. Hold up your wand you little shit! " He flicked his wrist and the door slammed shut, locking itself. Barty's breath was rapid as he stood shaking, leaning up against the wall, murmuring things, "Hold up the woman."
"What?"
"Hold her up in front of you. She's still alive. They won't kill you if you've got her."
"No…" Rabastan ignored the boy and lifted the slobbering Frank Longbottom. He held the quaking man near to him with his left arm. He pointed his wand at the door. Rabastan glanced at Barty while they boy lifted up Longbottom's wife horridly and then concentrated on the sounds from below. They had finished with the fire. They were outside the door. Rabastan drew in a breath when he heard one of them shout,
"Bombarda!" The door blasted away, a piece of it shooting across the room and hitting Frank Longbottom's side.
"Avada Kedavra!" Rabastan heard the small boy beside him shout….
Flowers, violet ones, just like Mrs. Black had wanted. They were everywhere, up the pillars, covering the tables, floating in arrangements in the air. The money left by Cygnus Black's death was already going to waste. He watched the backs of the bride and groom as they strode down the aisle, away from him, hand in hand. Bellatrix was dressed in a lavish dress of the pearliest shade of white with long sleeves that her mother had sewn on. As she walked down the aisle drawn close to her new husband, she seemed to have a bit of trouble lifting the folds upon folds upon folds of lace. Rabastan couldn't help but chuckle at how pristine she looked.
Narcissa was wailing when he took her arm to follow the couple. Her makeup had been nothing short of devastated over the course of the ceremony. Still, Rabastan thought she looked darling, even when she cried and her proud face scrunched up. As they walked he smiled at her and offered his handkerchief. She took it and dabbed her eyes. Rabastan turned over his shoulder to glance at Lucius, who had an appropriate smile sketched on his face as usual. Lucius walked behind Rabastan with Adele Duchossois, Rabastan's second cousin who understood English but could only speak French.
"…happy!" sputtered Narcissa, smiling, her lips wet with tears, "After all this mess…" It was the first time in weeks anyone in her family had worn color. The moment they crossed from the stretching patio into the gardens Narcissa pressed Rabastan's handkerchief into his hand and swept to Lucius, who embraced her accordingly. Adele stood aside, holding one arm across her chest and shifting her weight.
"Excusez-la." Rabastan apologized to Adele, who merely raised her eyebrows quickly and offered a little smile, "Elle est excitée"
"C'est evident" Adele answered tartly,
"Where's Bella?" Narcissa said with bright eyes, pulling away from her future husband. Lucius answered,
"Perhaps you should wait a moment…"
"Oh, I can't. I simply can't…" Rabastan spotted the hem of Bellatrix's white dress curling around one of the well-groomed hedges, but said nothing for his brother's sake. Adele, however, saw too and pointed with a slender finger,
"Là" the dark haired witch revealed and Narcissa whirled, her deep purple skirts swishing. Rabastan pursed his lips and dared to look after the blonde. She interrupted a kiss, of course, that Rodolphus was administering to his new wife's bitter lips. Bellatrix turned quickly to let her sister hold her. Rodolphus found Rabastan's eyes. Rabastan nodded and the brothers exchanged stale smiles from across the grass. Adele had already left Lucius' side to go blush and stand very close to her dear cousin Laurent. Lucius was glad to have Rabastan return to him. The blonde haired wizard moved to loosen his tie, but restrained himself.
"This is the first moment I am perfectly content with the fact that our betrothal was annulled. In this instant I am actually at peace with the idea that it is Rodolphus and not me." Lucius murmured abruptly, "Not with all this mess in the family and how dreadfully she will behave. Years ago I may have been up for the task of it…"
"You're talking as if you're old and stuffy and sixty." Rabastan scoffed, pressing his right foot into the moist ground. The early April sky above them was chalk white and heavy. Druella Black would go into fits if it rained…"And it sounds like you think my brother is cursed."
"I know he's cursed." Lucius laughed lightly, taming a loose strand of his long hair that had fallen into his eyes, " With her there's no telling anymore. She's turned into a cold sort of creature."
"Still pretty."
"But not just pretty. She used to be. But she is stronger than she's beautiful. Now she's got those darker ideas in her head. She's a better soldier than a wife."
"Which is what she wanted."
"And which is why I find it easier to talk to her than Narcissa, but, in regards to which one I would prefer to relax with, I would chose the one who has nothing but simple, simple things to say. And that is a compliment to Narcissa." Lucius glanced over at the women dotingly, "I just would not want the work for the Dark Lord to follow me to bed every night. It's just my taste. Rodolphus is the stronger man if he can endure it. I'm happy for him, though. Don't you dare take all of this the wrong way…" Malfoy raised his eyebrows and showed his gleaming teeth in another smile,
"No, no, I understand." Rabastan assured the wizard, while taking his wand and a cigar from within his cloak pockets,
"I knew you would be the one to talk to." Lucius said, "Oh, and here's the mother…" As Druella swept under the vine-covered archway from the patio, Rabastan swiftly stowed the cigar. She finally showed her age after all the years of being known for her younger-than-she-truly-was face. Her chestnut hair had started to bleed grey from the roots since January when she had been left to plan her daughter's wedding alone. The mother of the bride passed the two wizards with a warm smile. Rabastan supposed the ruffling gown she wore was so decorated with gems so that people would be so distracted by the glittering fabric that they would forget to look deep into her red, ringed, dying eyes.
"Welcome to our family." She said to Rabastan in her always-hushed voice,
"Thank you." He said, glad she did not meet his gaze. She went to her daughters. Rodolphus exchanged a few words with her, a broad smile finding him. Then, he touched his bride's sleeve as a promise he would not leave her alone for long and started over towards his brother. Narcissa came before him, blushing at what her mother and sister were talking about.
"No more tears?" Lucius said, touching Narcissa's hair,
"For now. I know I'll fall to pieces later after my speech."
"Well I'll have someone fetch you tissues before that." Her fiancé assured her before turning to the groom. Rodolphus was dressed in fine dress robes that were black and sharply cut at the lapels. Lucius offered earnestly, "Congratulations."
"Thank you." Rodolphus returned and smiled at his friend.
"I'll leave you to your brother…" Lucius said, taking Narcissa's tight waist and leading her away from the two men.
"So." Rabastan said, showing his teeth,
"It's over." Rodolphus exhaled, running a hand through his hair,
"Not quite." Rabastan folded his arms to hide his shaking fingers. It happened every once in a while. Rodolphus didn't mind, though, of course.
"The legal mess, the traditions…" he paused, "Whether she or anyone else likes it or not."
"How is she?"
"I haven't talked to her since yesterday and just now. I mean, she's how she is."
"She looks happy."
"It doesn't matter how she looks. She's had to look happy in front of her family for years."
"That's true." Rabastan then noted, "But then how do you tell?"
'Even I haven't figured that out yet." Rodolphus confessed, fidgeting with his cufflink mindlessly. And the bride, just then, came striding over to them with her mother. Bellatrix's face was made up more than usual and her thin lips were set in a line.
"We had better prepare for the reception." Said Druella, "You have your speech written, Rabastan, of course. You will be first, then Narcissa, all right? All right." She tried another bittersweet smile. Rabastan nodded politely,
"Of course."
"Try not to make a fool out of yourself." Bellatrix murmured to him, her voice quieter than usual, a smirk tugging at those tight, slender lips. Rodolphus chuckled for her, not noticing that her eyes wandered across the garden and rested among the gardenias for a moment. Rabastan looked behind him, pretending to turn and clear his throat. His gaze found two men talking near the bushes of thick white flowers. It was the young Regulus Black, his face as cold as always. The other was the Dark Lord, who stood taller than anyone else in the garden, the wind blowing his dark hair so it hid most of his face. He rested his thin fingers on a flower and was subtly and swiftly plucked one trembling petal from the stem.
The room was dark when Rabastan drew his head up from the pensive for the last time. A witch and a wizard sat on the stairs in front of him. His sister-in-law and his brother's conversation slowed to a stop when they turned to look at him.
"Rabastan?" tried Rodolphus for the fourth time that day. Finally, Rabastan responded,
"Yes. Yes! Rodolphus! I remember!" and Rabastan gave a short series of his high, rasping laughs, grinning wide with his thin teeth. "And Bellatrix…" He tried to stand, and the penseive on his lap sloshed and tilted. Rodolphus was quick to take out his wand,
"Wingardium Leviosa." The bowl of memories, gleaming, floated in the air and soared slowly across the room to rest on the dining table while Rabastan got to his feet.
"I…What a…I don't even…" Rabastan tried, half of his vision fading into darkness, his head spinning. It was Rodolphus who caught him when his balance wavered. Bellatrix produced a laugh that Rabastan could only remember echoing off of the rotten walls of Azkaban. Rabastan suddenly felt sicker.
"Lookie…" she cackled, coming close to him, "He looks drunk like his uncle used to with that new step of his…"
"He's just dizzy from all of it. Let's sit him down again." Rabastan felt the taught arms of his brother help him lean backwards into the chair again where he sat and held his forehead, feeling wrinkles there that he had never explored before,
"Where are we?" Rabastan looked about, squinting at the details of the room in the dim light from the few candles that hung high in the air. The portraits on the walls had been burned from the center of their canvases to the edges of their frames, the stair case looked slightly tilted, and cobwebs cowered in the corners….
"Riddle Manor." Bellatrix said quietly to him, "The Dark Lord is keeping all of us here to recover."
"The Dark Lord." He remembered vaguely the slanting, shaking night of their return and the man he had never seen before on the stairs. And then the sleepless nights at the Manor and a bottle of firewhiskey and the stretching corridors and the woman and her pale home and the speckled cat and then it all swirled into grey and muffled sounds…
"Rabastan?" Rodolphus questioned, leaning down,
"Yes." He blinked hard and began scratching at his neck, "I feel different."
"Better?"
"Myself?" The younger wizard took a breath,
"So, better?" Rodolphus passed a skeletal hand over his brother's forehead.
"So different." Rabastan hummed. Bellatrix gave another of her laughs and he scratched harder at his burning neck.