Rabastan knocked on his brother's door early the next morning. He had found it impossible to sleep, and stayed up all night wondering what the women had been talking about. He hadn't dared to leave his bedroom to go talk to Rodolphus, but it had been long enough – surely now that Rodolphus had had the whole night to think or worry or whatever it was that he had been doing, he would be willing to speak to his brother.

But there was no answer to Rabastan's knock. Not even the sound of movement, and though Rabastan pressed his ear against the door, he could not hear so much as his brother breathing.

"Rod?" he whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Why, Rabastan, what are you doing up so early?"

Rabastan jumped at the sound of his mother's voice and whirled around quickly, inclining his head. "Nothing, Mother. Only seeing if Rodolphus was awake yet."

Maria let out a shrill little laugh. "Why, Rabastan, it's scarcely dawn, and we were out all night… you should still be asleep, darling."

"You're up."

She laughed again, waving her hand lightly through the air. "I only got up to go get a Bloody Mary… I must learn not to drink champagne, it gives me a horrible headache, but what can I do… it would be horribly impolite to refuse drinks at a party…"

"Are you feeling ill, Mother?" Rabastan asked carefully. He knew from experience that when Maria was hung over – or "ill" as she insisted she was, because, she insisted, she never drank nearly enough to get drunk - she became an absolute terror, and near enough impossible to live with.

"Oh, no, not too terribly ill… just a little dizzy," she said lightly. "Why don't you come down to the kitchens with me, I'll have the house-elves make you breakfast."

"Thank you, mother, but I'm not very hungry…"

"Nonsense, darling. You need to eat better, you're ever so terribly skinny…" She looked down at him with a critical eye, and Rabastan felt his cheeks burn. He felt like a child again, just as he had when Druella had been examining him, but now he didn't even have his brother's company or his hand to hold.

"Yes, Mother," he murmured, following her as she swept downstairs and into the basement kitchens, snapping her fingers at the house-elves.

"A Bloody Mary," she said. "For me. And some breakfast for Rabastan – eggs, bacon…"

"Mother, I don't eat bacon," Rabastan said, but she ignored him.

"And… perhaps some pumpkin juice. Proper food, you know."

Rabastan refrained from saying that Maria should not be lecturing him on proper food when she rarely ate anything but fine fowl dishes and fruit. If Rodolphus had been there, he would have given his hand a little squeeze and rolled his eyes slightly and whispered it in his ear, but Rodolphus was not there, so Rabastan just looked down at the table and vowed to tell his brother about this later.

"Hurry up!" Maria snapped. "We haven't got all day, you know!" She snapped her fingers again, and the house-elf hurried to mix her drink and set it in front of her, bowing slightly.

"Apologies, Mistress Lestrange," it murmured, quickly setting a pan on the stove to begin Rabastan's breakfast.

Maria let out a long-suffering sigh. "Foolish creatures… but I suppose it is not really their fault that they are so vile… they must be born that way." She took a sip of her drink and sighed again, sounding satisfied this time. "It must be such a horrible burden to be so weak and worthless… house-elves should be glad that there are Wizards to give them purpose." She spoke loudly, so the house-elf could hear.

"Of course they should, Mother," Rabastan agreed absently, trying not to gag at the scent of frying bacon in the air. Maria, of course, did not even begin to notice her son's discomfort, nor, presumably, did she care.

The two sat in silence for some moments, Maria sipping delicately at her drink and Rabastan fighting to keep his churning stomach down, and then he finally said, "Mother, why did Druella Black think that Rodolphus and I were acting improperly?"

Maria choked on her drink. "P- Pardon?" she managed, coughing. "What did you say?"

"I asked why Druella Black thought that Rodolphus and I were acting improperly," Rabastan repeated. "Was it because we were playing a game? It was Andromeda's idea…"

"A game? No, no, it wasn't anything like that… When did you hear Druella talking about you?"

"At the party last night."

A flush was rising in Maria's cheeks. "Oh… no, darling, it isn't anything that you should worry yourself over. Druella is only trying to distract us from her own daughters' impropriety."

"Bellatrix–"

"We'll not say any more about it, darling," Maria told him. "It's nothing for you to worry about. Now, do have some breakfast."

"But Mother, I don't–"

He broke off, feeling ill as the house-elf set a plate in front of him. Bacon and eggs were piled high on it, slick and steaming and enough to make him want to vomit.

"Go on and eat, dear," Maria said airily, sipping her Bloody Mary. "And promise me you won't worry yourself about what Druella Black says anymore."

"Yes, Mother," Rabastan murmured. He forced himself to dig his fork into the mound of eggs and take a bite, trying not to gag at the flavour of pig fat. He wished desperately that his mother would leave so that he could throw out the food, but she sat there quite calmly, sipping her drink and gazing into space.

Rabastan forced down the whole plate of food, then stood up quickly. Maria didn't even notice as he bolted from the kitchen, dashed up the stairs and collapsed over the toilet, heaving the contents of his stomach up into it.

"Rab?"

Rodolphus was standing in the doorway, and Rabastan felt tears of shame prickle his eyes.

"You're sick…"

"No." Rabastan wiped his mouth on his sleeve, shaking his head a little. "I'm fine."

"Come off it." His brother joined him on the tiled floor, kneeling beside him and rubbing his back gently.

"I just… Mother made me eat and I didn't want to… I'm fine…"

"Oh." Rodolphus's face went even more serious than it had been before. "Rabastan… you're not…"

"It's not like I'm throwing up everything I eat," Rabastan said quickly. "It was just the bacon. It made me sick. That's all." The words had barely left his mouth when his stomach heaved again and he bent over the toilet, vomiting up acid that burned his tongue and throat.

Rodolphus sighed, waiting until his brother had finished before he wet a washcloth and wiped his face gently. "I don't like seeing you sick," he murmured.

"I'm not sick."

"Well, I like seeing you vomit when you're not sick even less."

Rabastan sighed, resting his head on Rodolphus's shoulder. "I want to go back to bed."

"So go to bed."

"Come with me."

Rodolphus gave his brother a sharp look, but he helped him up, half-carrying him to his bedroom. Rabastan was frail and thin, and he was grateful for his brother's help. Rodolphus perched on the edge of the bed, squeezing Rabastan's hand gently.

For a while they sat still, then Rodolphus said, very quietly, "Rab… Mother and Father want me to get married."

"What?" Rabastan sat bolt upright, his eyes going wide. "Why? Since when?"

"For a while now. Rab… I'm nineteen, I need to start looking for a wife. And you do too."

"No, I don't!" Rabastan cried. "Mother said last night– I'm not even done Hogwarts!"

"You don't have to get married yet." Rodolphus gripped his brother's arm, trying to calm him. "You just need to start thinking about it. What about Andromeda Black? Mother and Father would be thrilled…"

"I don't want to get married! Don't tell me that you do!"

"I don't, but I need to. Rab… it's not about what we want to do. We have to. It's only proper."

"Who do you think you're going to marry?" Rabastan asked in a very small voice.

Rodolphus sighed. "I don't know. Mother and Father think Bellatrix Black…"

Hot tears spilled down Rabastan's cheeks in spite of his best efforts. "I don't want you to get married. I want you to stay with me." He grabbed his brother's hand. "Rod, no one's going to want to marry me, and you're going to go off with Bellatrix and I'm going to be left here all alone…" His voice was rising in pitch and he sounded hysterical, even to himself, but he couldn't calm down.

"Rab." Rodolphus's voice was firm and commanding as always. "You're not going to have any trouble at all finding a wife. I promise."

"What makes you think that?" Rabastan demanded.

Rodolphus's lips twitched, and he leaned in a little, stroking Rabastan's hair back. "Don't you know you're beautiful, Rab?"

His breath caught and a flush rose in his cheeks. "What?"

"Well, anyone can see it." Rabastan fancied he saw a slight colouring in his brother's face as well, but he could have been wrong. "Believe me, there are plenty of girls who would be thrilled to marry you."

Rabastan looked down at the ground, a small smile on his lips. "Really?"

"Of course." Rodolphus's voice was softer and lower than Rabastan had ever heard it. "If you could see… you'd understand…"

"Understand what?"

Rodolphus sighed and stood up. "You need sleep," he told him, starting for the door.

Rabastan sank back into his pillows, but persisted. "Understand what?"

Rodolphus was almost at the door when he turned back.

"Why they'd want you," he said, then left, shutting the door behind him.

At least, Rabastan thought that was what his brother had said – "why they'd want you". He had spoken quietly, and it had almost sounded more like "Why I'd want you." But that couldn't be it, of course. Rabastan's ears must have been playing tricks on him.

He turned onto his side and shut his eyes and tried to push away thoughts of marriage.

And thoughts of his brother.