Word Count: 435

Regulus wonders how Rabastan always manages to find his little hiding places. By now, it's hardly a surprise when his smoke breaks are interrupted by the older boy's intrusion. Today, when the classroom door opens, he doesn't even look up.

"That's honestly a bit rude," he says, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"And that's a disgusting habit." Rabastan nods at the cigarette in Regulus' hand, his lips twisting into a scowl to emphasize his disdain. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"As if my mother knows what affection is," Regulus says dryly. He may be his mother's favorite, but that doesn't mean the feeling is mutual. "What do you want?"

Rabastan sits across from him, resting his elbows on the tabletop. "Your neutrality is a bit concerning."

"My what?"

"It's obvious that your brother has chosen a side in this war. Where do you stand?" Rabastan asks.

The question catches him off guard. Regulus does not have the same luxury his cousin has. Narcissa can remain neutral because those closest to her are not. But Regulus? Regulus has to make his own choices, and he hates it. He wants to remain neutral.

That isn't an option. It's become even more urgent now that Sirius has been disowned. All eyes seem to be on him.

"Why do you care so much?" Regulus asks.

Rabastan snorts. "Merlin, you really are a bloody idiot."

Regulus scoffs. The last thing he needs is a Lestrange casting judgment on his intelligence. He avoids responding by taking another drag.

"I fancy you, stupid," Rabastan says.

Regulus chokes on his smoke, his throat suddenly dry and burning, eyes watering. He pulls out his wand and manages to croak Aguamenti, sipping from the thin stream that erupts from his wand tip. "You what?"

"How was it not obvious?"

Maybe it is. It would explain why Rabastan always seems to be around him.

"I want to protect you," Rabastan says silently. "Join the Dark Lord with me."

Why is it so tempting? Regulus doesn't truly believe in the Death Eaters' cause. Truth be told, he doesn't care either way.

But there's something far too appealing about being by Rabastan's side. Maybe there's a part of him that has always wondered what it would be like to be with him, but he's always pushed them away. A Black has no right to think about such things.

Now, the words fall so easily from his lips, and he speaks them without doubt. "I will follow you," he says.

He doesn't believe in the cause, but it doesn't matter. At least Rabastan will be there.