Rabastan shrank automatically away from Rodolphus. His tone indicated far too strongly that he was upset at his brother, and that could, Rabastan thought, only indicate that Andromeda (that gossiping little bitch) had done as she threatened and told Bellatrix that Rabastan had hit her.

If he had known how to turn back time, how to take back an action, he would have done it in an instant.

"What were you thinking, Rab?" Rodolphus demanded, and Rabastan winced.

"Wh- what do you mean?" he asked, trying to sound innocent and, he knew, failing miserably. Rodolphus let out a harsh bark of laughter.

"Don't play stupid with me, Rabastan, don't even try it. Bellatrix told me what happened, and I want to know what the Hell was going through your mind when you decided it was a good idea to hit a girl!"

"She was talking down to me," Rabastan muttered, but he knew as well as his brother did that that wasn't any sort of proper excuse.

"Talking down to you?" Rodolphus snorted, looking away as though he was so disgusted by his younger brother that he couldn't even bear to make eye contact. "What, and that was enough to make you hit her? Are you going to go through life hitting everyone who says a word about how weak you are, Rab? Do you think that's going to work out well for you?"

"What?" Rabastan leaned forward, eyes narrowing to slits. He had felt guilty before, but now there was anger swelling in his stomach. "What, do you think I ought to just – just get used to it, because I am weak and I'll always have to listen to people acting like that makes me useless and stupid?"

"Yes!" Rodolphus snapped. "Yes, I do think that! Because it's true! I know it's not fair, but life isn't fair and you'll just have to get used to the fact that as long as you're – this way – people are going to think you're inferior."

"But I'm not!"

"That isn't the point!" Rodolphus reached out and shook Rabastan hard. "It's not the point at all! It doesn't matter how strong you are, because everyone's always going to see you as weak! It doesn't matter how right or wrong they are, and if you want anyone to ever take you seriously, you'd better learn to be a man about it!"

"Shut up!" Rabastan shouted, shoving his brother away. "What do you think you know about it? Everyone takes you seriously – everyone knows you're not inferior to them!"

"Jealous?" Rodolphus sneered.

Yes!

"No!" Rabastan snapped. "Why would I be jealous of you when I'm the one who the Dark Lord–"

"Oh, give that up," Rodolphus told him. "You think that makes you so special? It doesn't! You might want to wait to start considering yourself so special until he has a proper army that isn't having its meetings in the back of Borgin and Burke's – until then, all it makes you is pathetic for bringing it up every two minutes!"

"Jealous?" Rabastan parroted back at him.

"Hardly!"

"I'm sure," hissed Rabastan, then he pushed past his brother, all but dashing out of the house before Rodolphus could say another word. He sprinted out into the gardens, his head pounding.

"Rab, don't you run away from me!" Rodolphus shouted out the window, but Rabastan ignored him – as if he was going to come back now – and continued out onto the moors.

He didn't head for the wall where he and Andromeda and Bellatrix sat, but wandered off in the opposite direction, clutching his chest to try to ease the pain that had sprung up in it from running.

Everything felt wonderfully serene, especially in comparison to how things had been in the house. He could hear water running from a stream somewhere nearby, a crow cawing somewhere in the distance, but there were no other people here.

Oh… but yes, there were.

Rabastan stopped, straining his ears, and he was sure that he was hearing Andromeda's voice.

"Promise me you'll think of me…"

His blood ran cold in his veins.

The boy. The boy she had been out with last night, during the storm – she was here with him again. That was the only explanation that Rabastan could even begin to think of, and his head began to spin again. He turned slowly on the spot, trying to pick up the sounds of voices again.

"…You're so…"

Yes, that was a male voice, and Rabastan was positive that the one before had been Andromeda's.

Slowly, fearful of coming into their sight – they must have been obscured by some hillock, for he couldn't make anyone out – Rabastan started to edge towards the voices.

He wanted to cry when he saw them.

They were sitting in the grass, and her head was on his shoulder. Rabastan dropped back, falling to his knees so that they wouldn't see his shadow should the sun decide to come out.

"Who's that boy you're always with?" the boy asked, and Andromeda turned her head a little, looking up at him.

"What boy?"

Me, Rabastan wanted to shout. She's always with me! She's going to marry me!

"That one that you and your sister hang about with… every time I see you, you're with them."

"Oh, that's just Rabastan Lestrange," Andromeda said.

Just Rabastan Lestrange – as though being a Lestrange was something that deserved to be preceded by a just!

"Do you fancy him?"

"No," Andromeda laughed, and Rabastan felt his heart sink to somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach.

"I used to," she continued, "but I think he's falling in with the Death Eaters and I don't want anything to do with anyone like that, you know? He was bragging about it yesterday, then he hit me…"

"He hit you?"

"You can see why I don't fancy him," said Andromeda.

Rabastan would have dearly loved to interrupt them, to shout that that wasn't the whole story, that Andromeda wasn't being fair, but he couldn't. He kept his mouth shut, though he could hear the blood pounding in his ears.

"He sounds awful," the boy said.

"He is a bit… he used to be a lot better, I don't know what's gotten into him." For just a moment, Andromeda sounded almost regretful, then she laughed softly, mildly. "It doesn't really matter, though. I'm not going to pine after him or wish that he was different or anything like that."

I am.

Rabastan pressed his hands over his eyes.

I'm going to pine after you. I'll wish things were different.

He struggled to his feet, trying to be quiet, and backed away from them. He didn't want to see them together anymore, didn't want to hear Andromeda talking about how she didn't fancy him and thought – thought that he didn't deserve someone as good as her, as if…

He backed away, then turned and ran, getting only a few yards before he slowed. He didn't want to go back to the manor, where Rodolphus would undoubtedly be waiting to tell him how awful he was for hitting Andromeda, as if he didn't already know.

Maybe he wouldn't ever go home, he thought. Maybe he would stay out on the moors forever, until he got so weak from not having his medicine that he collapsed and lay in the grass to die… and then Andromeda and her new friend could find his body sprawled in the path of one of their romantic walks, with crows pecking at his eyes…

No. No, he wouldn't do that. He didn't want to give up his life over Andromeda – she wasn't worth it, he tried to tell himself, though he knew that wasn't the reason. She was every bit worth it, but he didn't want to die over her because she wouldn't care. If she had cared, he would gladly have thrown himself on a knife for her…

He stopped, standing still and gazing out over the silent moors. There was a chill in the air that Rabastan didn't think should have been there. He shivered, tucking his hands under his arms and looking around. The mists were heavier than they had been earlier, he thought, and there were shadowy shapes in them.

"Andromeda?" he called softly, when he was sure that one of the shadows was her, but there was no response, and moments later, it dissipated.

He stood so for a long time, watching the mists twisting and swirling, until he was so cold that his teeth chattered against each other. The day had gone from pleasant to absolutely frigid, and yet Rabastan still didn't want to go home.

Where else was there?

Andromeda didn't care anymore, Rodolphus was rightly furious at him – who else could he go to who cared in the slightest?

It took a few moments before the idea started to form and a few more before he began to smile at the thought.

Rabastan could go to the Dark Lord.