Andromeda did not look at or speak to Rabastan all through the dinner. She kept her eyes down on her own plate and only answered questions posed to her out of politeness by Maria and Joseph, which suited Rabastan perfectly well. He wanted little more to do with her – she had done nothing but make life miserable for him. It was better to cut all ties with her now.
When they were excused from dinner, Andromeda tried to catch Rabastan's arm as they left the dining room, but he shoved her away without looking and headed upstairs without giving her a second glance.
It was easier than he had expected.
He had thought that it would be torturous to act so coldly to someone who meant so much to him – or, rather, to someone who had once meant so much to him. But when the urge to look back, to go back, to take her hands and beg her forgiveness gripped him so tightly that he found it difficult to move, he thought of the Dark Lord.
The Dark Lord would be proud of you for keeping your eyes off of her.
And the Dark Lord was the important person now. Not Andromeda. It was the Dark Lord who had put Rabastan on a path that would lead him to greatness – not Andromeda, who would want to keep him off that path.
So he pushed Andromeda – and her boyfriend, or whatever she wanted to call him – to the back of his mind and thought of nothing but what his work for the Dark Lord would be.
He was sitting in the parlour with a book open on his lap, not really reading, but staring absently at the book and occasionally flipping pages so that Rodolphus, who was sitting across from him, would think that he was too distracted to speak.
Rodolphus had been worse than Andromeda in some ways. Andromeda had, at least, after a few attempts to see Rabastan, given up and accepted that he was avoiding her. Rodolphus not only refused to accept that Rabastan didn't want to speak to him, but was completely impossible to get away from.
Rabastan jumped when the parlour door was flung open and he saw his mother standing in the doorway with an owl perched on her arm and a letter in her hand. She rushed to Rabastan's side immediately, her cheeks flushed with what could only have been excitemement.
"Rabastan," she said, her voice all but trembling with obvious happiness. "Oh, Rabastan, a letter for you – it's from the Dark Lord…"
Rabastan set his book aside immediately and grabbed the letter. He didn't even thank his mother, but tore it open immediately.
The Dark Lord's hand was lovely; that was the first thing that Rabastan noticed. Delicate, tidy and slanted to the left, every letter perfectly formed with the precision that Rabastan could only assume the Dark Lord applied to every aspect of his life. He stared at it for a moment, admiring the way Rabastan Lestrange looked when spelled out in such lovely letters…
"What's it about?" Rodolphus asked, leaning over and trying to look over Rabastan's shoulder. He held it out of his reach, his cheeks colouring a bit.
"It isn't your business–"
"For God's sake, Rab, it's just a letter!"
Rabastan sniffed and looked down at it, still shielding it from his brother's sight and reading it while trying not to get caught up in admiring the handwriting.
Mr. Rabastan Lestrange,
Presuming that you still hold interest in becoming a Death Eater, you will be required to attend a meeting on the twelfth of the month. There will be discussion of what your initial duties in my service would be, and assuming that my men find nothing objectionable about you, a date will be arranged upon which you shall receive the Dark Mark.
The meeting will begin at seven o'clock in the evening and held at my present place of residence – Borgin and Burke's shop in Knockturn Alley. Under ordinary circumstances, I would provide directions, but you have already proven yourself quite capable of finding me.
"What's that?" Rodolphus asked, sounding both curious and mildly suspicious. "What does he mean that you're quite capable of finding him?"
Rabastan flushed. "It's not polite to read other people's mail, Rodolphus – don't you know that?" he snapped, quickly covering over the paper with his hands.
Rodolphus's lip curled lightly and he shrugged his shoulders. "All right, if you say…"
Rabastan, cheeks still red, looked back down at the letter.
I am most eager to see you once more.
Sincerely,
Then there was an attractively scrawled signature, all sharply pointed loops that barely resembled letters. Rabastan stared at it for some time, trying to interpret exactly what the signed name was, but was interrupted by his mother.
"What does it say, Rabastan?"
He cleared his throat, swiftly folding it. He would reread it later, and revel in the pleasure of having the Dark Lord write things like I am most eager to see you to him. Part of him suspected that that was a line used upon all new Death Eaters to draw them in, but Rabastan would be satisfied to believe that it was only him that the Dark Lord was eager to see…
"He wants me to attend a meeting," Rabastan said. "To meet the other Death Eaters and arrange a date for me to take the Dark Mark."
Maria looked ready to cry tears of happiness. "Oh- my son!" she breathed, then pulled Rabastan into a crushing embrace. "I am so- so proud…"
Rabastan twisted his head slightly and shot his brother a smirk. Rodolphus's eyes narrowed to slits and he took in a hiss of breath, clenching his hands into fists.
"I don't see any reason to think that he's so special," he muttered. "The Dark Lord has dozens of Death Eaters…"
"But he didn't want you for one, did he?" Rabastan said and Rodolphus's face flushed even more darkly, turning dark and blotchy. He stood up, glaring.
"No," he said, clearly trying very hard to sound like he didn't care but failing miserably in Rabastan's opinion. "No, he didn't want me for a Death Eater, which suits me perfectly well. He isn't going to be winning any battles or making anything of himself if he accepts people like you into his army."
"Rodolphus!" Maria said, looking at him sharply. "Don't talk to your brother that way!"
"But it's the truth."
"He's just jealous, Mother," Rabastan said, sneering.
"Of you? Hardly!" Rodolphus spat, then turned and stormed out.
Rabastan was torn between wanting to laugh with derision at his brother, wanting to disappear into his bedroom to read and reread the Dark Lord's letter and wanting to dissolve into tears. But he did nothing, simply smiled up at his mother with a bright expression. She was still beaming at him as if she hadn't even noticed that her precious older son had just stormed out.
"I am so terribly proud," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"Thank you, Mother," Rabastan said, and he spoke humbly, taking care to keep his voice sugared and sweet. It was so rare that she expressed such feelings for him – usually, pride was an emotion reserved for Rodolphus.
"Your father will be thrilled," Maria continued, standing up. "I must send for him immediately…"
"There's no need for that," said Rabastan, shaking his head. "We can tell him over dinner…" When Rodolphus is there to hear again.
Rodolphus can hear Father telling me that he's proud as well – he can finally find out what it's like not to be the centre of all the attention and the recipient of all the praise.
)O(
It was so much easier to be happy with the knowledge that the Dark Lord was waiting for him. When Rabastan's thoughts began to stray to Andromeda – or even to Rodolphus – all that he needed to do was remember the Dark Lord writing I am most eager to see you one more, and all bitter thoughts dissolved. Time did seem to be moving particularly slowly, the days barely inching towards the twelfth, but Rabastan could not be surprised that it seemed to be taking so long when he was counting every passing second. The letter was becoming worn and creased from how many times Rabastan had taken it out and unfolded it to reread what the Dark Lord had written to him.
"I'm glad that the Dark Lord didn't want me, if this is what he does to people who he wants," Rodolphus sneered when he saw Rabastan lying in bed with the letter. "You're obsessed, I hope you realize."
"Jealous…" Rabastan smirked, which shut Rodolphus up.
And that was what Rabastan did – just did his best to keep his brother's mouth shut until the twelfth finally came and he could go off, half-sick with excitement, to Knockturn Alley to finally see the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters.