Choices and Consequences

I don't own 'Harry Potter'

"Why?"

That was the question, wasn't it? It wasn't just one thing either, it was the entire bloody situation. Why was he here instead of with the other Death Eaters? Why had Harry actually gone to meet him? Why were things between them so strange?

Why did he save Sirius?

Seeing his beloved godfather get hit with a spell and fall towards that ominous fluttering curtain in the Veil had been like a punch to the gut, a hand made of ice gripping his heart and squeezing until he couldn't think, let alone breathe. Sirius was one of the few adults that actually cared about him and spoke to him as an adult. He couldn't die like that.

But he hadn't.

Harry was the only one that had seen it, but from behind Sirius had come a powerful red flash, another Stunner, but one strong enough to propel his godfather's unconscious body away from the Veil. Sirius had landed several feet away from the dais, out of the line of sight of his insane cousin.

While the sight of his father figure alive had been immensely relieving, that hadn't been his focus. He hadn't watched Remus nearly cry in relief, he hadn't listened to Bellatrix's furious shrieking, nor had he paid attention to the random spellfire across the cavernous room.

He'd watched Rabastan Lestrange.

Harry had always thought the man to be an insane Death Eater that enjoyed torturing others, but in that moment Harry had seen him deliberately save Sirius. The man had sent a look of pure loathing at his sister-in-law before nodding at Harry and hiding in an alcove to save himself from Bellatrix's ire.

Why?

Getting back to Privet Drive and finding a letter from a Death Eater had been beyond bizarre, though considering how often his life went tits up he shouldn't have been surprised. Despite every ounce of logic telling him not to, he'd still snuck out using his invisibility cloak and flown a few towns over on his broomstick to meet Rabastan.

Which led to now.

"Why?" The man scoffed. "You don't honestly think all the Death Eaters actually follow that monster because they believe him, do you?"

Rabastan laughed, though the sound wasn't nice at all. The loud and bitter cackling sent a chill down Harry's spine, the tone of his voice that of a man who seemed to be done with life. Done with everything.

"Thanks to my imbecilic brother I was branded like a slave at the age of seventeen. Thanks to that monster I lost my lover at nineteen. Thanks to that bitch Bellatix I got sent to fucking Azkaban for her own bloody insanity!"

The man turned to him, blue eyes alight with fury and a touch of insanity. "I bet all those 'good guys' never told you that, did they? That Bella, Rod and Barty were the only ones who actually tortured the Longbottoms? Did you know, the only reason I was there was because I was trying to figure things out for my lover to kill the monster?

"The only fucking thing I've managed to do is make sure his fucking brother doesn't die."

Harry blinked. Brother? Wait, does he mean …?

"Do you mean Regulus Black?"

Rabastan looked at him, empty of anger. "Yes, we were together before he turned against the Dark Lord and went and did something idiotically Gryffindor and killed himself while trying to strike a blow against the madman."

Harry opened his mouth before he paused, taking in the man in front of him. Rabastan was in his mid-thirties with short brown hair that lay flat against his head with pale blue eyes. His face was currently a little emaciated, and his overall appearance was that of someone too underweight to be healthy. He wasn't attractive in the traditional sense but Harry found the man to be weirdly intriguing. His demeanour, perhaps? His words?

It was incredibly stupid to be standing here with a Death Eater talking about what had to be treason for one of Voldemort's followers. He shouldn't believe the older man's words at all, but for some reason his instincts were shouting at him not to let this chance get away.

He'd stood and watched while his godfather nearly died. Could he really stand back and let others get hurt while saving his arse again? No offence to Dumbledore, but the man had been trying to fix the Voldemort problem for years the Gryffindor way. Maybe a Slytherin would have a better go of it?

"Do you want to finish Regulus' work together?"

Rabastan turned to him with narrowed eyes, studying him closely before walking over to Harry and peering down at him with a smirk that didn't nothing good for Harry's composure.

"You do realise Regulus has been dead since before you were born? I'm not exactly pining over him."

The man reached for Harry's hand and gently pulled it up before bending over and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. He lingered for longer than was probably usual then pulled back and grinned at the teenager. Said teenager wondered what it said about him that he found the somewhat mad grin to be very attractive.

"I look forward to working with you, Mister Potter."

What have I done?

A/N: Hey guys!

This was actually a request by two different people on AO3, misschief_managed and emmalynstone.

I actually found this a little difficult, because Rabastan is literally a blank slate. I had no idea where to start, so sorry if this came out a little weak.

I should have a couple more chapters up by the end of the week, so keep an eye out.

Until next time!