Rabastan spent most of the night lying awake in bed, tossing and turning and worrying until he felt ill, and then he went to the toilets again and knelt on the ground until he was sure that he would not vomit, then he went back and lay down again.
It was miserable. He was miserable.
And it was stupid for him to be miserable.
What the hell was wrong with him? He had always known that it was just a matter of time before he and Rodolphus were married off to eligible young women, and, really, it was no surprise that Rodolphus and Bellatrix were being matched up. Why should this have come as such a surprise to Rabastan?
"Because you're an idiot, Rab," he whispered to himself.
He must have fallen into a fitful sleep at some point, because he opened his eyes and found Rodolphus sitting on the foot of his bed, looking at him.
"What is it, Rod?"
"Andromeda Black is here to see you," he told him.
"What? Why?" Rabastan sat up in bed, smoothing his hair down automatically. "What's she here for?"
"I don't know. She came with Bellatrix."
"Oh." Rabastan should have known. Of course Andromeda wouldn't have come on her own - she had to bring her sister along, and now Bellatrix and Rodolphus would go off on a walk somewhere, and probably make love in the gardens...
Rabastan had to stop thinking of that before he made himself ill.
"You look a mess, Rab," Rodolphus said rather tenderly. "Didn't you sleep well?"
"Not especially well, no," Rabastan mumbled. He swung out of bed and reached for his robes, then gave Rodolphus a very pointed look. "Do you mind?"
"Mind what?"
"I'm getting dressed. Christ, Rod…"
"Oh…" Rodolphus flushed a little. "I… oh." He turned away and Rabastan pulled his nightshirt off hastily and yanked on his robes.
"Is Bellatrix going to be coming round every day now, then?" Rabastan asked, and he didn't even bother concealing the jealousy in his voice. "I don't see why… it isn't as though she doesn't know you well enough already. She might as well not see you until the wedding…"
"You're being stupid, Rab," Rodolphus told him. "It's different now that we're getting married."
"Different?" Rabastan spat. "Yes, obviously it's different! Now all of a sudden, she's your favourite person on the planet, and I'm…" He trailed off before he could say something quite as pathetically jealous as all the thoughts running through his mind. "Never mind. You can have fun with her, I don't much care."
"Are you going to behave this way until the wedding?"
"Yes," Rabastan muttered mutinously. "And after. As long as you're preferring Bellatrix to me–"
"I don't prefer Bellatrix to you!" Rodolphus said indignantly. "You're my brother. She's my fiancée. There's hardly competition between you two! I don't love my brother the same way I love my fiancée."
Rabastan fell silent. He would have argued the point, but for his fear of the conclusion his brother might choose to draw if he did.
"Come on," Rodolphus said, sighing. "The girls will be waiting for us. Bellatrix and I are going to be in the parlour. You and Andromeda might want to have a bit of a walk – you could do with some fresh air…"
"Mm." Rabastan didn't look at his brother while he stepped out and headed downstairs. Bellatrix and Andromeda were standing in the foyer, and it seemed to Rabastan – though perhaps he was imagining it – that Bellatrix gave him a predatory little grin while he walked down the stairs. He shuddered a bit – she was a frightening sort of girl at the best of times, and the thought of his brother sharing her bed…
Rodolphus all but elbowed past Rabastan in his hurry to get to her side. He took her hand and kissed it politely, as their parents had taught them to do, and Bellatrix smirked. She put two fingers under Rodolphus's chin and lifted his head, pressing her lips down over his.
Rabastan's stomach lurched. God, it was bad enough to think about them doing this sort of thing, but actually seeing it was enough to make him want to cry.
Andromeda apparently shared the sentiment, because she gave Bellatrix a shove. "Stop that, it's disgusting. Find somewhere to do it where we don't have to watch you."
"Oh, pardon me," Bellatrix said, her lip curling. She draped her arms around Rodolphus's neck and shot her sister a devilish grin. "I'm sure that you and Rabastan won't be getting up to anything of this sort."
No, we most certainly won't! Rabastan thought indignantly, but he kept his mouth shut.
"Come on," said Rodolphus, putting his arm around Bellatrix's waist and pulling her gently towards the parlour. Rabastan clenched his hands into fists and tried not to think too hard about what they would be doing in there.
"God," Andromeda sneered derisively when they were gone. "Those two. You should tell your brother to try to keep it in his trousers for a change…"
"Mm," Rabastan mumbled again.
"Let's go." Andromeda pointed to the door. "The further we can get from them the better – I'd hate to be sitting around here and hear them going at it, wouldn't you?"
"Y- yes," Rabastan said rather uncertainly. Unbidden, images of his brother on top of Bellatrix, defiling himself with her, defiling their home with her, filled his mind and he rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of them.
"Come on, then," said Andromeda. She grabbed his hand and led him towards the door, and Rabastan swallowed, a flush rising in his face. Her hand was soft and warm and distinctly feminine and he didn't quite know how to feel about this sort of contact. After all, Mother and Father had always said not to have any sort of physical contact with women before marriage – but then, Rodolphus and Bellatrix were breaking that rule, weren't they? And besides, it wasn't as though they – Mother and Father – would ever know.
Andromeda was dragging him, pulling him out the doors, down the steps and along a garden path, and Rabastan did not bother to resist her. What was the point? She was stronger than him, and it wasn't as if he cared where she was taking him or what she was going to do to him, not when his brother was in the parlour with Bellatrix.
The day was hardly warm and there was a thick layer of cloud blanketing the sky, but there was no snow on the ground and Rabastan was just able to control his shivering.
Andromeda stopped sharply and looked at him. "Are you cold?"
"A bit…" he muttered, clenching his hands into fists to protect his fingers.
Andromeda sighed and pulled her cloak from around herself, draping it over him. "Here. Take this."
"What?" He put his hand self-consciously on his own shoulder, feeling the thick, warm wool. "Oh… no, you don't have to do that." A flush was rising in his cheeks, as was so often the case when he felt as though he was being patronized.
"I don't fancy explaining things to your brother if you get sick from being out here with me," Andromeda said carelessly. "Come on, now."
She vaulted up onto the stone wall that encircled the gardens of Lestrange Manor as easily as a spider might crawl across a thread, then reached down to help Rabastan clamber up after her. He huffed and gasped and she strained to lift him and by the time he was on top, he felt winded, even with her assistance.
"Merlin, you look peaky," she told him. "Are you always this weak?"
"I'm not weak!" he said indignantly
"Then come on." She slid off the wall on the other side and started walking away.
Rabastan clung to the stones so tightly that his fingers hurt as he slowly lowered himself down. His heart was in his mouth and he felt dizzy, but he got his feet on the ground at last, and followed Andromeda away, feeling more than a little bit ill.
"God, but you're slow," she said, turning back to him.
Rabastan said nothing in response, and scowled at the ground. He resented how casually Andromeda could scramble around, never losing her breath or slowing down except to wait for him. He would never be that strong – it was something that he had reconciled himself to long ago, that he would never be strong like Rodolphus was, but the way that Andromeda looked at him, like he was pathetic for not being able to keep up with her, made him flush with shame.
"Do you want some help?" she asked.
"No!"
There was genuine concern in her voice, at that only made Rabastan feel worse. He caught up with her, clutching his chest as his heart pounded madly against his ribs. The way it was going, he was quite terrified that he was going to have a heart attack, but he'd be damned before he voiced any such concern to Andromeda.
Was pride like this a sin?
Yes, he supposed, but he would have it nonetheless.
"Sit down," she told him, pointing at the ground, all spiny brown grass and dead flowers. Rabastan winced a little at the idea of getting the dirt on his clothing.
"No. I'm all right!"
"Not because you're out of breath," she told him, sounding exasperated. "Because I want to talk to you."
"Oh…"
"So sit." Andromeda sank down onto the grass, stretching her legs in front of her, and she looked up at Rabastan expectantly. "Come on. I'm not going to hurt you. There's just… well, something I want to ask you…"
Rabastan swallowed, then slowly settled onto his knees. The grass prickled his skin through his trousers and he shifted uncomfortably in it. He would have grass and mud all over his clothes, and who knew what sort of insects and spiders had might be lurking…
"God's sake, Rabastan, just sit down!"
"I am sitting!"
"Good!" Andromeda ran one hand through her hair, twisting deep brown curls around her fingers. "Then can I ask you my bloody question?"
"I'm not stopping you."
"Why don't you want to marry me?"
Rabastan's mouth opened, but he closed it again swiftly. He had not been expecting such a point-blank question and it unnerved him a little.
"I- where did you hear that?"
He had only even begun to consider it a serious possibility last night!
"Things get around." Andromeda sounded a touch grim. "Gossip spreads quickly – your mother overhears something and talks to your father, my aunt overhears that and talks to my mother, and I overhear her talking to my father… but even without that… well, you don't exactly hide it."
"I don't know what you mean," Rabastan said stubbornly.
"Yes, you do, you idiot. I know that you don't want to marry me." She sounded quite bitter. "I can tell – when I'm the only marriageable girl your age and you don't ask me to dance even once at a party…"
"I'm sorry if I offended you," Rabastan muttered.
"Oh, you didn't offend. So you don't want to marry me – I don't care." Andromeda plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between her fingers, apparently avoiding Rabastan's eye. "I'm not mad about the idea of getting married either, to be honest, so don't think you're about to hurt my feelings. I just want to know why."
"I… don't know…" said Rabastan. He wished that Rodolphus was here to do the talking – he was so much better at these things than Rabastan was.
"You must know," said Andromeda. "You have to know what you think – I mean, I know you do know what you think and you're just afraid to say it. What, do you want someone else to say it so that you don't have to?" She threw down the flower, turning towards him again. "You can't expect your brother to know what you feel, for God's sake, Rabastan."
He looked at her sharply. "What do you mean by that?"
"I think you know what I mean."
Rabastan could feel the blood draining from his face. He stared at her for a moment, then leapt up, backing away.
She can't know, she can't, she doesn't know how you feel, no one possibly could, not ever…
"I- I don't feel very well…" he told her, then stumbled to his feet, backing and then running away from her.
"Rabastan?" he heard her calling after him, but he didn't look back – he couldn't.
He scrambled up over the garden wall, and collapsed to the ground on the other side, burying his face in his hands and taking deep, shuddering breaths. His chest hurt badly, and he clutched at it, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart.
I think you know what I mean.
Surely… well, surely all she meant was that he depended on Rodolphus too much. Yes, that was it. That was something that plenty of people had said – Mother and Father said it, and even Rabastan thought it to himself sometimes, and though Rodolphus would never voice the opinion, Rabastan was sure that it had crossed his mind. Surely Andromeda simply meant that he was expecting Rodolphus to explain Rabastan's thoughts and emotions to other people when he, Rabastan, could not. And she was right, wasn't she? That was what he had been thinking, even…
So why had it sounded so very much like she was insinuating…
Stars were popping in front of Rabastan's eyes, and he couldn't draw breath. He ran his hands through his hair and over his face, trying to wipe away the sweat beading upon his forehead, but he couldn't do it…