Rabastan spent the rest of the evening watching the Dark Lord while trying to avoid meeting his eyes so that he would not need to speak to him. He was in shock at what the Dark Lord had offered him, but oh, such happy shock. When he went to bed, he lay upon the sheets, staring up at the dark ceiling and considering what he wanted, now that he was going to be accepted as a Death Eater.

There were stories – too many to count, and perhaps only a handful that were true – about men who had pledged their lives to the Dark Lord and his cause and been richly rewarded for it, given everything their hearts desired. Every wish was granted for them, no matter how small or petty – everything from fine horses the colour of night to any woman that the man desired to grace his bed.

Horses were of no use to Rabastan – he had known how to ride once, but he was not strong enough to do it now; not even close to it. And women… he had little interest in women.

Most women.

There was one, of course…

Rabastan turned over in bed, nesting into the feather quilts and closing his eyes, a small smile upon his lips.

He wanted her.

He wanted to please her.

That would be enough for him.

)O(

Rabastan was glad, when he made his way up to the little rock wall on the moors just after breakfast the next day in hopes of meeting Andromeda there, to find that not only was she sitting on it, engrossed in a book and kicking her legs lightly against the stone, but that Bellatrix was nowhere to be seen. Good. Bellatrix would have been a nuisance and gotten in the way of what Rabastan wanted to say. No doubt she would have spoiled it with her endless barrage of cruel comments. It was far better that this conversation should take place between just Rabastan and Andromeda.

"Andromeda?" he said quietly.

She jumped and the book slipped from her hands at the sound of his voice, landing on the ground with a dull thud. She looked up at him and her eyes narrowed a bit as she shifted uncomfortably on the lumpy stones of the wall.

"Rabastan," she said, rather curtly, and her tone made what she was thinking perfectly clear – why are you here talking to me? You're angry with me, aren't you? Don't you hate me right now?

I am angry, but I don't hate you.

He couldn't ever have hated Andromeda – couldn't even be angry enough that he would stop seeing her or stop wanting to make her happy – even when she was so very, very deserving of it.

"I'm sorry," said Rabastan. It took a great deal of strength of will for him to say it, not least because he was quite positive that Andromeda was in the wrong and he had been right to be angry at her, because how dare she call me weak, how dare she, but he didn't want to fight with her. Not after last night.

"Pardon me?" she asked.

"I'm sorry for how I behaved yesterday," he told her. The words left a foul taste in his mouth, but he said them anyway, forcing himself not to let his face twist with disgust or his tone mock her as he so wanted to. "I was wrong–" a lie, but no matter; she didn't need to know how he loathed lying to her like this, "and I overreacted."

"I wasn't gossiping about you, you know," Andromeda told him quietly. "Not really. Please believe me, Rab, I really wasn't."

He wanted to sneer and tell her that God Himself couldn't have convinced him that she hadn't been gossiping about him, but he kept his face straight and his voice quiet, nodding slightly.

"I know you weren't," he said solemnly. "Which is why I'm sorry." I'm not. "But… but that's not what I wanted to talk about in any case… there's something– I wanted to talk to you about…" He trailed off, then lifted himself onto the stone wall beside her. Andromeda steadied him with a hand upon his leg, just a small touch, not enough to make him feel like he couldn't have managed it himself, but enough to help him.

"Wanted to talk to me about what?" Andromeda asked.

Rabastan hesitated, then said, very slowly, "Andi… I- I don't know if Rodolphus told Bellatrix and she told you…"

"I haven't spoken with Bellatrix yet today," Andromeda interrupted swiftly. "I didn't like the way she was talking about you."

He flushed slightly, a small smile on his lips at the thought of Andromeda choosing him over her own sister. "Oh… thank you…"

"Don't thank me, I'm only doing what's right."

Rabastan nodded slowly, then said, "Well… last night, we- we had a guest…"

Andromeda cocked one eyebrow, looking at Rabastan with an expression that very clearly said that she had no idea where he was going with this story or why it was important. "I… see?"

"The Dark Lord," he blurted out, and comprehension dawned on Andromeda's face.

The Dark Lord had featured in their conversations – his and Andromeda's and Bellatrix's and those of the other students of their age in Slytherin as well – but he was a figure surrounded by more mythology than fact. Some students told stories about him that Rabastan were quite sure were not true and others quoted lines from articles in the Daily Prophet about him and his band of Death Eaters that sounded very much like the Prophet was making them up to fear monger – it was something that they were good at, after all. There was, however, a common consensus among Slytherins: the Dark Lord was going to be very important indeed, and it would be better to be on his side than against him. It was with this statement that nearly every conversation pertaining to him that happened in the Slytherin common room ended – by this time, Rabastan would nearly always be shaking from hearing so much about him – and when that conclusion was inevitably reached, Andromeda always nodded along with the other participants in the conversation before the topic moved to something more pleasant.

But Andromeda did not look right now as though she was hoping that this meant that their families were going to be protected. In fact, Rabastan had no idea what the look on her face was indicating. It was utterly unreadable.

"And?" she asked.

He could not contain the news any longer. He had had every intention of speaking slowly and casually, as though it was not very important to him and letting Andromeda guess herself what the Dark Lord had proposed to him, but excitement overtook him.

"He has offered to make me a Death Eater!"

Rabastan had fully expected her face to break into a wide smile and for her to fling her arms around him and congratulate him, but she did not. She simply stared, and something in the pit of his stomach tightened.

"A… Death Eater?" Andromeda asked at last.

"Yes… a Death Eater…"

"One of his followers?"

"Yes."

"And…" If anything, that was trepidation in Andromeda's voice – nothing like what he had been expecting. "Did you… accept?"

"Of- of course I accepted," he said, frowning slightly. "Why would I not?"

"Why would you?"

"Why would I?" he echoed. It was difficult to believe how incredibly uninterested Andromeda seemed in this whole matter. Had it been Andromeda who had been offered a position as a Death Eater and accepted it, Rabastan would have been thrilled for her. He would have swept her up in her arms and…

Well, he would have if he had the strength.

But she seemed almost irritated at him for accepting. No, not almost irritated – certainly irritated and perhaps even a little angry, and he couldn't have begun to imagine why. She had always said it was better to side with the Dark Lord, hadn't she?

"Andromeda," he said, reaching out, hesitating for a moment, then putting his hand on her cheek and turning her head so that she was facing him, "I… I want to share this with you."

"Pardon me?"

"Everything that I can gain from being a Death Eater… everything that will be granted to me… I want to share it with you."

Andromeda stared, then shook her head slightly. "I don't understand what you mean, Rabastan."

"What I mean- think…" He grasped her hands in his, clinging to them and looking at her with great eagerness. "You know how well people say the Dark Lord rewards his followers. Whatever rewards I'm given, I want to share them with you."

"How?" she asked tentatively, not meeting his eyes but instead looking down at their intertwined hands.

Rabastan breathed deeply. His body trembled slightly, only from nerves, then he managed to push out the words, "Andromeda… I want you to marry me."