Rabastan didn't talk to his brother after he came home. Indeed, he looked at and spoke to no one, going directly to his bedroom to quietly brood over Andromeda, and over what the Dark Lord had said.

Infatuation, he had called Rabastan's feelings for Andromeda. Infatuation, as though they were not the most real and honest feelings in the world – as though they were merely the product of some enraged love spell or moment of foolishness…

Had he been right to think of them as such?

The thought made Rabastan feel uncomfortable, a little bit awkward and quite unsure of himself, for he used to think that what he felt for Andromeda was so far and away beyond what any other person could feel for someone else, but he had been so sure, when the Dark Lord's eyes were on him, that Andromeda was of no interest to him at all…

Had the Dark Lord bewitched him to think so?

No, no, that was foolish. The Dark Lord would not need to put a spell on a man to make him lose interest in his beloved - what possible use would he have for doing that? No, it had just been that Rabastan's thoughts had been so clear and true while the Dark Lord's eyes had been on him that they had been unmarred by what he felt for Andromeda.

Which had surely been no more than obsession and lust.

Lust?

Had it been lust? Rabastan had been quick and willing to dismiss it as such, but as he thought, he could remember no instances in which he had been desperate for Andromeda in any sort of physical way… he had desired her company, her arms around him, perhaps, but he could never remember an instance in which he had wanted to make love to her…

Of course it was lust. What else could it be? Not love…

"Rabastan," his mother called up the stairs, and Rabastan recognized from her sugared tones that she surely had company with her downstairs. Most likely, it was Druella Black – Druella had the effect on Maria of making her feel as if she was inadequately ladylike, and she attempted to compensate by being infuriatingly sweet.

"Coming, Mother," Rabastan called, breathing deeply and trying to force all thoughts of Andromeda from his mind.

And he managed it as well, until he strode down the stairs and came face to face, not only with Druella, but with Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa, all lined up in a row like china dolls upon the couch with matching painted-on smiles and matching glassy eyes. Andromeda glanced at Rabastan and her lips twitched a bit, and she raised one hand in a small wave, just a simple gesture of greeting, but Rabastan ignored it and averted his eyes from her so that he could pretend not to see.

She revolted him so.

He was thinking of her now in her other boy's arms, and he had no doubt that that was what she was thinking as well, when she looked at him – not that she cared for him, not that she loved him, as he would once have presumed that she thought whenever she laid eyes on him, but that she was doing all she could to replace him in her mind with another.

"Rabastan, do go into the dining room and wait for us, won't you?" Maria asked, still in her sickeningly sweet voice. Just hearing it, and seeing the simpering, stupid expression on his mother's face made Rabastan want to retch.

"Yes, Mother," he said, more than eager to get away from her, and, more over, from Andromeda, whose eyes were burning into the back of his neck. He hurried out of the room, into the hall, and was granted a moment of peace.

The moment lasted only that – a moment – before the door to the parlour swung back open and Andromeda strode out. She had an expression of hurt on her face, coupled with anger that was all too reminiscent of an expression that Bellatrix might wear.

"What have I done to upset you?" she demanded, and Rabastan flinched back. He disliked being snapped at – after all, who did not? – but it was so many thousands of times worse when the person snapping at him had once been the person who he considered his closest confidante.

Now that role had surely been taken away by the Dark Lord… the Dark Lord knew more of the dark depths of Rabastan's soul than Andromeda ever could have hoped to. She knew nothing. She understood nothing.

"You've done nothing."

"Clearly not!" Andromeda snapped. She planted her hands on her hips and bore down on Rabastan – so much bigger and stronger than he was, that her presence was, in fact, a touch threatening. He tried to back away, but ran into the wall, and she was still moving closer. He was trapped.

"I don't know why you think that you have the right to be angry at me," Andromeda hissed. "You're the one who decided to run off and join a group that you and I both know will do you nothing but harm! The Death Eaters…!" She said the words with the strongest of contempt. "What is it that you're suddenly so interested in about them? Just because the Dark Lord said that you would make a suitable one… he must say that to dozens of men!"

"I'm sure he does," Rabastan said, trying to keep the tremors of anger out of his voice. "I'm sure he says it to plenty of men. But if the choice is between him and you…"

"This is what I mean! What have I done to make you so angry – I swear, Rabastan, I don't know why you hate me so suddenly! Is it just because I wouldn't dance and skip and be merry with you over… him?"

"No, it isn't that," Rabastan snapped impatiently. "It isn't that at all, and you know quite well what it is, so I'll thank you to stop acting as if you don't. You must think I'm stupid, don't you, Andromeda?" he added, his whole body shaking now. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands and glared at her viciously. "Do you think I'm stupid because I'm weak? Do you think the sickness has affected my brain so much that I can't tell when I'm being lied to?"

"I've never lied to you, Rabastan!"

"You have!" His voice rose several notes and he was aware that he must have sounded hysterical, though he tried not to. "You lie to me, and you think that I should bow down to you–"

"I don't think that for a second, it's your precious Dark Lord who wants to be bowed down to!"

"And you think I'm never going to find out because you think I just stay in this house all day and mourn how poor and weak I am, except when I go out with you and your sister because I can't even walk over the moors by myself!"

"What are you on about, Rabastan?" Andromeda demanded. She reached out and shook him, and his neck snapped back and forth feebly as he attempted not to lose his balance. "What are you talking about?"

"That boy!" he shouted, and then everything was silent.

Andromeda stepped back from him slowly, her hands falling to her sides and her eyes going wide. She regarded him warily, as if she was looking at a predator, a wolf or some other variety of wild animal that would pounce on her and tear her to pieces should she make anything resembling a wrong move. Rabastan's chest heaved and he looked at her, with – at last – triumph.

"That boy," he repeated, more quietly this time, for the corridor in which they were standing had become so silent that he could hear every pounding beat of his own heart and every shallow, ragged breath that Andromeda was gulping in. "That boy you were with."

"I haven't been with any boys," she said, but the lie was obvious in her eyes and Rabastan let out a short, harsh bark of laughter.

"Oh, I'm sure you haven't. I'm sure that the one I saw you with wasn't really a boy at all – just a figment of my deluded imagination, was he?"

"No, Rab, don't be like that–"

"Honest?" he challenged. "Don't be honest? No, don't be stupid, Andi – I know what I saw, and I know what you said to him about me!"

"Rab, I didn't–"

"You can see why I don't fancy him," he mocked, imitating what she had said in a high-pitched voice. "I'm not going to pine after him… what, you didn't say any of that, then? You didn't say all that to a certain boy?"

Andromeda's mouth opened and then closed, and she stared at Rabastan. "Rab…"

"So don't start," he hissed, spitting out every word as if it tasted foul. "Don't you ever start telling me that you haven't been with boys, or that I'm the one that matters to you, because I know differently. I know better."

Then he turned around and strode away from her, into the dining room, leaving her behind him with an expression of shock and confusion upon her face, and only when he was alone, with only the house-elves who were finishing setting out the last few dishes on the table, did Rabastan allow himself to double over, cover his eyes with his hands, and let out a dry, hopeless, heart-wrenching sob.