Rodolphus did not speak to Rabastan for the rest of the day. That was just as well, Rabastan thought, because he wasn't sure that he would be able to talk to his brother without making himself sick with anxiety. His fear that Rodolphus might somehow know about him had turned swiftly to paranoia, and the fact that he was sure that his father had some inkling of it did nothing to calm him. He skulked in the library instead, keeping his nose buried in a book and hoping that Bellatrix and Rodolphus would not decide to come in. That would have put Rabastan right over the edge, he thought. The very thought of Bellatrix and Rodolphus together drove him mad, made him want to reach out and give her a sharp slap across her face...
And how pathetic of him. How pathetic to be so obsessed with his own brother that he would want to hurt his bride. It was not Bellatrix's fault. She hadn't wanted to be married to him, surely. There had been a time when Rabastan had considered Bellatrix a friend – or, if not a friend, exactly, at least someone for whom he had respect – and he had never so thoroughly hated anyone before as he did her.
Was it even fair of him to say that he hated her? Perhaps that wasn't an accurate description of his feelings. He certainly resented her – oh, he resented her. He resented her so much that he wanted to give her a slap…
But did he hate her?
Hating her for something that was not within her control went against all Rabastan's ideals of morality, and though he supposed that some people might not think highly of his morals, he was dedicated to them.
He was pondering his morals, idly running his finger along the gilt edge of one of the pages of his book, when he heard a scuffling and Bellatrix's voice. He immediately started to stand to leave, but was stopped by what she was saying.
"–don't see what the use is in us getting married if you can't keep it up long enough to get me pregnant."
Rabastan froze in place. His throat tightened a little and he felt a flush rise in his cheeks.
He wouldn't interrupt. He wouldn't want to interrupt the discussion of his brother's sex life…
He did want to listen to it, though.
"Keep your voice down, Bella," Rodolphus hissed.
"Pardon me for being just a little bit upset that my boyfriend can't get off unless he closes his eyes when he's around me–"
"You're being dramatic, Bella! I have some other things on my mind–"
"What else do you have on your mind?" Bellatrix's voice rose to a shrill screech and Rabastan shrank down in his seat, listening as hard as he could for every word. Anything that indicated that there was trouble between Bellatrix and Rodolphus was good news to him.
"My brother–"
"Your brother?" Bellatrix shrieked, and Rabastan's breath caught. A flush rose in his cheeks and he bit down hard on his lip.
He would not think about what sort of thoughts Rodolphus might have been having about him. He would not.
"Yes, my brother," Rodolphus snapped. There was a dull thud, as though he had slammed his hand down on a desk or a bookshelf in frustration. "Is that a problem, Bellatrix? Don't you like the idea that I might care about him?"
"No, I don't like that idea – not if it's going to interfere with our relationship," Bellatrix snapped back.
Rabastan stood up. His heart was pounding against his rib cage and he felt little thrills of terror go through him at the thought that they might see him, but he needed to get closer. He needed to see his brother's face when he said that he cared about Rabastan. He needed to see Bellatrix's look of dismay.
He edged forward, between bookshelves, until he caught sight of Rodolphus. His back was to Rabastan, who quickly ducked out of sight behind a shelf of dusty romance novels that his mother had collected over the years but had never read. Peering out between them, he could see Bellatrix's face. Her cheeks were blotchy and red and her eyes brimming with tears.
Good.
It gave him a wonderfully deep sense of satisfaction to see her like that.
"He's sick, you know–" Rodolphus began.
"Oh, as though that's something new!" Bellatrix sneered. "Yes, poor ickle Rabastan is ill and has been for his whole life – do you think you're going to be able to do something new about it? If you could make any difference for him, don't you think you would have been able to by now?"
"I've done plenty for him!" Rodolphus sounded highly offended and Rabastan could see his brother's shoulders tensing. "You have no idea what I've done for him. You have no idea what his life is like – what our lives are like!"
"No! I don't! And, you know, Rod, I won't ever be able to know what your lives are like if you don't bother explaining to me!"
"You wouldn't understand!" Rodolphus raised his voice, and Rabastan thought, from the sliver of her face that he could see, that Bellatrix looked afraid. He enjoyed it. "You don't understand any of this! You don't understand him or me and you only make a fool of yourself when you try to! But you know – you know, Bellatrix, that I don't- I don't object to you considering your sisters to be a higher priority than I am–"
"We're different in that way, then," Bellatrix hissed. "Maybe you don't think it's a problem that I care about my sisters – well, maybe that's just because I'm not so unhealthily obsessed with them that I can't sleep with you, the way you are with Rabastan!"
Rabastan's knees were weak. The thought that he had come between Bellatrix and Rodolphus – that Rodolphus's mind had been on him when he was in bed with Bellatrix…
"What are you going to do when he dies?" Bellatrix challenged, and the warm sensation that had been travelling through Rabastan's lower belly as he thought about his brother being so preoccupied with him that he couldn't make love to Bellatrix turned cold. "When he's dead – and you know as well as I that it won't be a long time now – what are you going to do? Go into mourning for the rest of your life?"
Rodolphus did not respond, and Rabastan could feel tension palpably in the air. His heart skipped a beat, and he thought that even Bellatrix must have realized that she had crossed a line. Not that she would ever admit to it – the proud little bitch of a girl wouldn't be able to…
"Are you saying," Rodolphus asked, and his voice shook with suppressed anger, "that because Rabastan's going to die soon, I ought to- I ought not to care about him while he's alive?"
"You- you make it sound heartless, Rod…" Bellatrix strained to let out a small laugh, but it sounded horribly forced, and Rodolphus stepped forward and caught her by the front of her dress, yanking her forward.
"It was heartless. Don't ever say anything like that about my brother again, do you understand me? Don't ever tell me not to care about him."
"I won't!" A note of panic rose in Bellatrix's voice, and Rodolphus shoved her backwards, hard, sending her stumbling into a bookshelf.
"Good," he hissed. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm just going to read for a while – or would you rather that I spent that time in bed with you? Since that's clearly all you care about in the world–"
"That's unfair, Rodolphus!"
"No, it's true!" Rabastan did not see his brother losing his temper often, and it was an almost frightening display when he did. He felt sure that if Bellatrix kept pushing him like this, there would be an explosion, and Bellatrix would dearly regret saying such things to Rodolphus. Oh, and Rabastan would love it – he would stand there and watch while his brother tore her apart with his sharp, harsh, cruel words and he would love every second of it…
"But–" Bellatrix began, but Rodolphus had already turned and stalked away from her. Rabastan drew back against the shelf and prayed that his brother would pass him by without notice, which, thankfully, he did.
When he turned his attention back to Bellatrix, tears were running down her cheeks.
She stared silently after Rodolphus for several long moments, then raised her hands and wiped the tears from her face with her hands. She looked like a child who had been more severely reprimanded than she felt she deserved.
She looked how Rabastan had used to feel after his father had ever told him off. How he had felt before he stopped caring.
And he almost felt a twinge of sympathy for her.