They stayed out on the moors for hours, enjoying the sweet summer heat and the silence that was uninterrupted except for the sounds of birds and the wind in the brush. None of them felt the need to speak – it was so much better to be quiet.
The sun rose higher in the sky, grew hotter, and Rabastan's body felt sluggish and warm, and he was slightly dizzy, even as he sat upon the wall at Andromeda's side.
"We should go inside," Andromeda said at last, and Rabastan was aware that she was looking at him. He coloured slightly.
"I'm fine," he told her.
"You look flushed."
"I'm not going to die, Andromeda," he told her, and he must have sounded sharper than he intended, for Bellatrix let out a soft snicker.
"Of course you aren't," she said, and ignored Andromeda when she glared at her. "I mean, it's not as though you're sickly at all, now is it? You're just as strong and healthy as any boy could ever be – there's no reason to think that you might not do well to stay out in the sun all day long…"
"Don't talk to me as though I'm an invalid!" Rabastan snarled.
"But you–"
"Be quiet, Bella!" Andromeda said sharply. Even Rabastan was surprised by how harshly she spoke to her sister, and Bellatrix looked downright outraged.
"Don't you tell me to be quiet!"
Andromeda glared at her sister, and Rabastan didn't dare make a sound. He looked between them, then cleared his throat quietly. "Andromeda?"
She didn't take her eyes off her sister, but she slid down from the wall and held her hand out for Rabastan to take. "Come on, Rab. Let's both go home. If Bellatrix wants to stay out here to prove that she's not an invalid…"
Bellatrix snorted, tossing her head like a horse would toss its mane. "Oh, that's rich of you, isn't it, Andromeda?"
"What?" asked Rabastan, looking back at Bellatrix warily. Andromeda blanched.
"Bellatrix," she said through gritted teeth, "I swear to God…"
"Didn't you know, Rabastan?" Bellatrix tilted her head innocently, fluttering her eyelashes, and Rabastan's stomach churned. He did not like the look on her face, and he liked even less that it seemed very much like she was implying something about Andromeda.
Andromeda, his dearest friend, one person who never said that he was weak…
"She was talking about you last night," Bellatrix said airily. "I'm sure that she can tell you…"
"Don't!" said Andromeda, her face flushing.
But it didn't matter what Bellatrix said anymore. Rabastan had a very good idea what sort of conversation might have occurred, and he began to tremble, so much like a leaf caught in a strong wind, looking at Andromeda with an expression of absolute fury.
"Did you call me an invalid?" he asked her in a furious hiss. "Did you?"
"Rab, you know me better than that…"
"Obviously not!" His vision was turning cloudy and dark around the edges, and he breathed deeply, trying not to lose consciousness, for what could possibly be any worse than passing out as he was trying to convince them that he was not weak. "I- I thought that you would never say anything like that about me!"
"But you are practically an invalid," Bellatrix put in reasonably. "I mean, let's be honest here, the only reason that you're walking about here at all is that you've taken half a dozen potions to keep you on your feet…"
"That isn't true!"
"Yes, it is. Rodolphus tells me about you…"
Rabastan had to bite down on his tongue to keep from cursing her. And his brother – how dare his brother gossip about him! He would make Rodolphus pay for this, he would…
"And he says that you have to take seven different potions just to get out of bed in the morning," Bellatrix continued, with an insufferably smug air about her as she said it. "Is that not true, Rabastan? Can you actually get out of bed without any help at all?"
Rabastan said nothing, but his crimson cheeks gave away the answer, and everything that he could see was turning into dark, blurry stars. He clung to the edge of the wall to give him balance.
"There's nothing wrong with that, Bellatrix!" Andromeda snapped, and Rabastan jerked away when he felt her hand brush his shoulder. Had he been able to think properly, he would have known that she was only trying to help him – perhaps because she could tell that he was off-balance and perhaps because his face was going grey and ashy – but to him, it felt like nothing more than her trying to patronize him. As though he needed her help! He slapped her hand away roughly.
"I am not weak!" he snarled, needing to pause between each word to gasp and draw air into his lungs. Oh, but he felt so dizzy, so sick. "I am not an invalid! And I do not need your help!" he added in the closest that he could get to a shout.
"Rabastan…" When he blinked, Andromeda came into focus just enough for him to be able to detect the look of almost matronly concern upon her face. "Of course you're not an invalid, but you look as though you're about to faint–"
He pushed her back and turned away, stumbling down the side of the hill. The brush caught his feet and he went sprawling, scraping skin from the palms of his hands.
"Rabastan!" Andromeda called, but before she had come close to him, Rabastan heaved himself to his feet again, not even stopping to regain his balance and let his vision clear. He just wanted to get as far away from her as he possibly could, and if that meant that he was going to faint and hit his head on a rock and lie bleeding out on the moors until someone found his rotting corpse weeks later – well, so be it.
He heard Andromeda running behind him and calling out for him to stop, come back and let her help him, but Rabastan only ran faster because of it. Andromeda could have caught up with him, of course she could have, but she did not, and her calls became further and further between and more and more half-hearted, and when Rabastan finally dared to stop and look back, she was nowhere in sight.
He plodded the rest of the way back to the manor, dragging himself into the gardens, and collapsed upon a bench, his thin chest wavering as his heart beat an erratic and shuddering rhythm against his rib cage. He closed his eyes and listened to it. Perhaps, Rabastan thought, that had been too much for him and his heart would finally give out, and then he would never need to be called an invalid again.
If he tried very hard, Rabastan could just remember a time before he had been weak, when he had been the sort of son that the Lestranges could be proud to call their own. Perhaps he had been a little delicate, but all well-bred young men were, they said. There was nothing wrong with a boy who preferred to stay inside and read or practice an instrument instead of running about like a wild thing.
When Rodolphus had reached the age of thirteen, Rabastan had been able to witness his brother's transformation from a gangly, ungainly boy into the sort of young man that people liked to describe as "charming" and "strapping", and Rabastan had eagerly awaited such changes in himself.
But when he had turned thirteen, Rabastan had been ill. He lay abed upon his birthday, and for weeks after that, sickened by some disease that no one ever named, and that Rabastan only knew made him dizzy when he stood and made his heart flutter when he moved. He had assumed that it would go away, but it never quite had.
He says that you have to take seven different potions just to get out of bed in the morning.
Yes, I do, you insufferable bitch! Rabastan thought, his throat tightening slightly. Yes, I have to take potions!
Every healer that his parents took him to had prescribed some new potion or medicine designed to make his heart stronger, and he took them all faithfully as per their instructions, but he privately did not see the use. They had barely made it possible for him to go outside – sitting and walking little distances was all right, but climbing was a strain and running as he had been doing was nearly enough to kill him – but what good was that if he was still sickly, and people like Bellatrix still knew it?
"Rabastan?"
He managed to open one eye and look up at his brother, who stood over him.
"What?"
"Mother and Father sent me to bring you in," Rodolphus told him. "And they said to make yourself presentable. We have company."