Tragedy

The rough nudge to the body that lay beneath her boot was, more for her tepid amusement than to truly check whether he was, in fact, deceased. “We’re not going anywhere.” She didn’t leave room for possibilities like that, never had, and she certainly didn’t intend to start now, even with the familiar, exasperation on the other end of the line. One of which she cut off before he’d even settled into the recurring annoyance that found him every time she called. Truly, she could have called her brother, even Nate — but even she could safely admit that she found some sense of comfort in Rabastan. No matter how much it seemed she could so easily tip the edge of his limits, there was far too much that pressed weight in the idea that argument and their dire need to disagree on.. almost everything, never once stopped him from showing up. The tip of her boot twisted into her victims side and the lethal edge of her carelessness bloomed in the form of quiet laughter soon interrupted by the sharp pop as he appeared.  “—You can’t just kill people because they annoy you.” She chirped half a second following, begging a half-hearted attempt to imitate his voice. “But, as you can see, Rab..– I can.” Spoken as the very tip of her wand tapped the end of his nose. Part of her imagined, that had she and Amycus held a different sense of morality, they’d likely bicker about as much as she and Rabastan did. There’s nothing a little healthy attempt at curbing the lethal icicles of Alecto and a nature that seemed far more thoughtless than it was. “You should give me more credit, at least now, on your day off, you don’t have to explain away your disappearance to anyone. — And no.. no you probably don’t want to know.” Somehow, she doubted the smug nature of wandering hands would suit the Lestrange brother for a good reason. “Someone might have,” She shrugged, “It keeps things interesting, relax.” Of course, nobody has seen; the woman far more inept to loose ends than she made out to be. Even now, she remained all the more aware of how.. soft some of those among their ranks still believed her to be; let them believe it. “Ooohh, what’re you thinking? Canada? Maybe somewhere a little warmer? Brazil? Thailand? I could use a little vacay.”

With a pop he was standing before Alecto; eyebrows knitted, his lips a tight line, and disapproval radiating from head to toe. Their friendship was one that was easily defined as love hate. Since they were children, Alecto had known how to get under his skin in ways no one else could. The usually calm and stoic child could be reduced to eye rolls and exhausted sighs after only five minutes with her. Still, whatever nonsense she got herself into, Rabastan always showed up to help bail her out. In all actuality, Alecto could probably handle this on her own just fine, but he was sure she got some enjoyment out of making him deal with her. While they might disagree on everything, mostly just for the sake of arguing, there wasn’t anyone he trusted to have his back more. “He’s very clearly dead, Al, no need to rub it in” he teased, though there was a playfulness to his words. 

Rolling his eyes, Rabastan let out an annoyed sigh. “Why do you insist on being difficult?” he asked. Shaking his head he groaned, “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should” he reminded her, giving her a pointed glare. Rabastan took a deep breath of sheer disscontempt as she tapped his knows with her wand; the audacity. Having only an older brother growing up, he wondered if having a sister would have been a lot like this. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, but Rabastan was surely going to bitch throughout the entire process. “Please Al, no one cares where I am on my nights off. Besides, if you wanted to spend time together, you could have just called” he answered, giving her a cheeky grin, before continuing, “Well, whatever he did, I’m sure sure it was worth it”. Rabastan knew that Alecto wasn’t above killing someone just for the fun of it, but something about her body language told him that there was an underlying reason to her actions. He wasn’t going to push the subject any further. Rabastan gave a huff as he answered, “This is hardly the time for a vacation, for fuck sake,” but a small smile tugged at his lips despite himself as he continued, “It’ll only be late afternoon in Belize. We could go dispose of this guy and then get some dinner, hang out by the beach for a while”. A conspiring grin formed on his lips at the suggestion, “I do, in fact, have tomorrow off if you want to make a proper mini holiday of it”.

Settling himself as best as he could after the youngest Lestrange’s words, Antonin leaned his elbows on the table, listening intently. Hoping he could trust Rabastan. He was at a loss for a lead, so the only thing he could do was put his faith in the younger man. “A pureblood is a pureblood, I suppose; even if they have defacted” he mused over Rabastan’s words. Antonin knew that his prejudices often got the better of him; a weak spot he would have to reluctantly work on. It would mean that he would have to at least acknowledge the fact that mudbloods and blood traitors could possess some type of talent and ability. Something he outright ignored, many moons ago, when he attended Hogwarts. “Okay Rab. I trust you” he said, locking eyes with Rabastan, to show how serious he was. Regardless, he knew that Rab knew the consequences for not honouring his word. He said no more on the subject.

“Anyway…” he continued, easing back into his seat nonchalantly, “We have more pressing business to attend to”. The “pressing business” wasn’t pressing business at all, but another test. He knew Rab had been training with Bella, but he had heard no more on whether or not he had made his first kill. Antonin needed to ensure that the younger generation were no less than ruthless, so, he picked the most vulnerable target: a teenager, still attending Hogwarts. A fifth year muggleborn. Now, Antonin didn’t pick a vulnerable target merely to give Rabastan an easy task, but rather, to test his ability to disassociate. He wanted to ensure that the younger generation had no problem dealing with things psychologically or emotionally. Many would take issue with killing a child, particularly one that would basically be defenseless in comparison to themselves. But, for Antonin, it was crucial in ensuring Rab’s loyalty.

“There’s a Hufflepuff girl - Elizabeth Jones; muggleborn, still attending Hogwarts” he began, his tone relaxed, as though he was talking about the weather, “Fifth year I believe… or fourth. Anyway…”. He shrugged, not caring too much about the details, “Her father, also muggleborn, is becoming a prominent member within the Ministry - we need to send him a message. You need to kill the girl, and leave a note, a message to the Order”. Antonin passed Rabastan a piece of discoloured parchment, the scrawl messy but legible.

To whom it may concern,

    This death is the first of many, if you refuse to comply with the following demands:

1. All half-bloods, blood-traitors and  mudbloods must be removed from the ministry; from all positions - entry level, high ranking and voluntary positions.

2. The acceptance of half-bloods, blood traitors and mudbloods to Hogwarts must cease immediately. And subsequently,any current students, must be removed with immediate effect.

3. Half-bloods, blood traitors and mudbloods must be removed and banned from historically magical places. (I.e. Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, Godric’s Hollow and so on).

4. For the Minister of Magic to acknowledge and agree to these demands publicly.

Signed,

      The Pureblood Community.

Antonin was well aware none of these demands would be met, but he hoped for it to act as a catalyst for further recruits and hopefully, an all out war.

This put Rabastan in an interesting position. For the time being, he was being deemed trustworthy by the older ranks. He knew the vast majority of them were weary of the younger members, and while his closeness to his brother and Bellatrix certainly helped, he had managed to get himself on the short list of people that was considered trustworthy within their ranks. Nodding, Rabastan gave him a small, albeit tight lipped smile, and responded, “You won’t regret it”. Rabastan knew full well the consequences that would ensue if he did anything to break that trust, to break his word, and he had no intention of doing so. However, he knew that if push came to shove, he’d do whatever was necessary to protect the youngest Black. 

Letting his hands fold on the table, he gave a show of giving Antonin his full attention. Getting another assignment wasn’t terribly surprising, seeing as it had been a while since he’d been asked to get his hands dirty. Rabastan had only killed once, and it had been a particularly gruesome one. He had been training with Bellatrix, for all intents and purposes, and he had spent hours perfecting certain torture techniques. Killing the man had been the most merciful part of the process, but Rabastan had been able to cope with it. Disassociating from the act itself helped, and putting in perspective his priorities had allowed him to act as well. 

Still, as Antonin described his task, he felt bile rising in his throat. Rabastan kept a diplomatic, straight face as he listened, but part of him knew that this was a test he might not be able to pass. Antonin was asking him to kill a child. A defenseless child for no reason other than to prove a point. Rabastan gave nothing away as he nodded his head. He kept his face blank and answered, “Consider it done. They’ll be having a Hogsmeade trip soon I’m sure.” Rabastan knew it was common knowledge that attempting to break into Hogwarts was futile. It would buy him some time to figure out how to get out of this, because killing a child was a line he was unwilling to cross. At the thought, an image of a beaten and bruised Mary flashed through his brain. He hadn’t been able to leave her to die in that alleyway, and there was no way he was going to kill a young, innocent, girl. 

Taking the note from him, Rabastan started to read it. 

As Rabastan went to answer the door, Regulus grabbed the remote from the other side of the sofa and turned on The Conjuring. He vaguely remembered watching it once before, which was strange since he rarely consumed muggle entertainment, but watching a movie wasn’t why he had come to see his friend. The company was more important. “Yeah, I’ll grab us some wine” he retorted, heading straight for the fridge. He was sure they’d probably end up drunk and talking through most of the movie anyway. Regulus decided to make himself useful and pour them two glasses of wine as Rabastan was preoccupied with the food delivery. Making his way back into the living room, Regulus set Rabastan’s glass of wine beside his seat and awaited for Rab to return to him. Regulus noted that he was making drinking too much of a habit lately; he had been using it as a crouch. It seemed to be the only thing that lessened his anxiety as of late.

Awaiting patiently, and admittedly a little tensely on the sofa, once Rab returned; Regulus knew he would have to address a few things with him. Maybe not right away. Regulus would attempt to enjoy himself first. But, a few uncomfortable truths lingered in the air that he was almost certain he’d, ultimately, be too scared to address. Which would, in turn, leave him returning to Grimmauld Place annoyed at himself.

“I put on the conjuring” Regulus said, as Rab re-entered the room. Regulus’ glass was almost already empty; he was subconsciously gulping the wine to make himself feel more at ease. “What have you been up to, anyway?” he asked genuinely, a little nervously almost, considering he hadn’t spoke to his friend since the night he had confessed what had happened between himself and his parents.

As a general rule, Rabastan avoided the genre of horror. It wasn’t particularly scary, given his extra curricular activities, but it always left him a little bit on edge. Still, some of them had a good enough plot to him that he could enjoy them, and the Conjuring was one of them. He was grateful that Regulus was alright with some of the things muggles indulged themselves with, because Rabastan thoroughly enjoyed some of their later technologies. “Sounds good to me” he answered with a smile. He was mostly just glad to have a night in with Regulus. Having the food situation taken care of, he made his way back to the living room. He turned the coffee table into a kitchen one and magicked a couple of plates and utensils for them to use. 

He could feel someone was off with the younger boy. Everyone had always treated his sensitivity as a weakness, but Rabastan had learned to use it as a strength. It allowed him to read a room without giving himself away or even giving the indication that he cared. Rabastan had spent much of his childhood learning how to hide his emotions, how to pretend to be emotionless, but he had never quite figured out how to turn them off. Instead, he figured out how to use them. Regulus made him feel warm inside, comfortable for the most part, but he worried that since their last meeting, a level of tension had been created between them. 

Musing over Rabastan’s words, Antonin still couldn’t help but feel something was off. Admittedly, the story seemed viable enough but Antonin still had his suspicions. Given Rabastan’s background, it was hard to believe that there was no option but for him to flee and leave Nathaniel, but then again, it wouldn’t have been the first time that Antonin had underestimated the Order and he had to give them credit where credit was due, if they had genuinely managed to ensnare Nathaniel and leave Rabastan at a loss. Antonin had purposely picked an open area in the event that the younger Lestrange was a liability and in case Antonin’s veiled accusations would cause him to lash out. Despite the common knowledge that Rabastan was a pretty placid individual, Antonin was also aware that a cornered dog was likely to bite.

However, the fact that Rab had allegedly spoke to Rodolphus about the whole situation put him at ease, albeit only slightly. Furthermore, Antonin couldn’t simply go around accusing people of treachery simply because he had an inkling and no viable proof. “I know you’re not a moron, Rabastan, which is what is worrying me. You’re intelligent. Very intelligent actually…” he paused slightly only to let out a frustrated sigh, “there has to be someone letting things slide to the order”. He knew that there were also intelligent people within the order ranks but Antonin’s own biases towards Pureblood Supremacy always had him in disbelief that even the most intelligent in the order could outsmart a highly intelligent Pureblood. He viewed it as a blow to the collective ego of the Pureblood community. Antonin had his suspicions about a few people within the Death Eaters and the wider Pureblood community, particularly the younger crowd - perhaps because he wasn’t as well versed with them and often infantalised them. “What’s wrong with that youngest Black boy? Why hasn’t he took the mark yet?” he asked without beating around the bush; he knew Walburga and Orion well so it was surprising to him that prior to their death, there was no discussion of him taking the Dark Mark. It also didn’t help that his older brother was a blood traitor. “He’s not trailing after his brother is he? I need you to keep an eye on him for me; maybe even give him a bit of encouragement” he began, watching Rabastan for a change of expression.

Despite his lack of full hearted belief in the cause, Rabastan was unfathomably loyal. Nate was a friend of his, one that he hated leaving behind when it came to that night. It was unsurprising that the higher ranks in the Death Eaters were underestimating their enemy, and Rabastan was sure that was going to be their downfall in the end. As Antonin interrogated him, he picked up on some of his antics. A public place where he wouldn’t be able to lash out, which is exactly what a cornered person did. However, Rabastan didn’t feel cornered. The truth of the matter was, he’d done nothing wrong. Instead, he stayed rational and focused on solutions. 

Begrudgingly, Regulus locked his door and began towards Rabastan’s flat. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his friend, it was quite the opposite; he anticipated seeing him a little too much which made Regulus uncomfortable. He enjoyed the company of his friends but this was different and he couldn’t quite figure out why there was a fluttering in his belly. It was not a pleasant feeling. It was something akin to the feeling he got before he knew he had to travel via apparition. He had decided to walk to Rab’s flat in order to give him some time to think - probably a bad thing, he mused but it was too late now to cancel and he didn’t want to arouse any suspicion’s on Rabastan’s end.

Be normal. Act Natural. It’s just Rab.

He couldn’t shake the strange anxiety within himself. Maybe it was because he had told Rab too much? Regulus was used to a lot of space and began to wonder if Rab felt obliged to invite him over because he now seemed like a liability. Rab’s flat should have been a safe space for him but, now, something felt different.

“Nope, just me, unfortunately. What did you order?” Regulus grinned back at his friend when he opened the door.

“How about something scary?” he asked, stepping passed Rabastan, making his way toward the sofa and plotting himself down comfortably. “Although muggle horror movies  don’t seem to have the same effect when you’re used to Bellatrix” he said with a slight laugh, trying to keep the conversation light.

As a general rule, Rabastan’s flat was open to anyone that needed a place to get away. He’d specifically gotten it to avoid his own parents, and he understood all too well how often such an escape was needed. Regulus didn’t have his parents to get away from anymore, but he also worried about him spending too much time alone. Rabastan understood the need for space though, and tried not to come across as over bearing. Given how much he worked, it wasn’t hard to keep their plans more few and far between. Tonight though, he had off completely, and was grateful to be spending it with some of his favorite company. 

Rolling his eyes, he answered, “I’m just as happy to see you. Greek. There’s a little restaurant down the road from me that’s owned by a Greek family. Honestly, it’s some of the best food I’ve ever tasted”. Having been to actual Greece, he was grateful to have authentic cuisine in his area. 

Opting to sit on the other half of the sofa, he nodded his head, “We can definitely do that. The Conjuring or Silence of the Lambs?” he asked. Rabastan snorted a laugh at his comment as he replied, “You’ve got a point there. I don’t know that anything can be as terrifying as she can be”. As a whole, Rabastan wasn’t afraid of Bellatrix, but he knew that she could be a right terror when she wanted to be. 

It was true that Antonin embodied the saying: Just because you can see the lion’s teeth doesn’t mean he is smiling. That could not have been more true than in this moment. Antonin sat with a smile on his face and all pleasantries aside, it was easy to tell just how agitated he was. “Quite a lot actually” he replied, keeping his tone as pleasant as his voice would allow him. “There are cracks appearing in the foundation of this organisation and I want to know why” he began, watching Rabastan’s body language carefully, albeit he seemed unphased as he took a seat opposite him. “It’s a peculiar thing that since we have had an influx of a younger generation, things have gone tits up” he said, leaning back in his chair; his smile finally lessening. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming anyone in particular but I have noticed certain patterns… certain alliances so to speak” he said, taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee. “I think it’s only fair that we start to investigate these alliances; people’s motives, their loyalties” he continued, his eyes still locked on Rabastan’s face, “Tell me, how did someone as capable as yourself and Nathaniel fail so miserably at such a mundane task? And couldn’t escape a trap set by a bunch of half-wits nonetheless?”.

Shaking his head slightly, Antonin furrowed his eyebrows in mock concern, “Either too much trust is being placed in the wrong people or it was intentional sabotage and as days go on it’s seeming more like the latter to me”. Antonin’s trademark smile finally crept back on to his face as he shrugged, “..but hey, maybe I’m wrong, so that’s why I’ve brought you here to speak face to face, maybe you could enlighten me as to what on earth is going on?”.

Exhaustion was threatening to over take Rabastan at this point. Being apart of the Death Eaters was an obligation he had accepted to continue his place in his family. It wasn’t even a cause he believed in, but his brother and the rest of their small clan meant everything to him. Knowing that this conversation was going to be more of an interrogation, he prepared for it. Nodding his head, Rabastan gave a hum, “Well then, let’s get started” he spoke. He schooled his expression the way he had since he was a kid. Rabastan gave a stoic nod as he spoke, “My brother brought that issue up recently actually. We were discussing how to start sealing off these said cracks” he answered. That wasn’t strictly true, but he was sure Rodolphus had in fact noticed the cracks that were happening. They weren’t very well hidden. A near smirk formed on his lips as he answered, “Ah, I get it. I agree. We need to sort out these alliances, as you put it. I imagine it’s my turn”. Rabastan put everything on the table, laid the cards out, and braced himself for the questions coming next. “My loyalties have always been to our people Antonin. Be that my family, the Death Eaters, and the cause are the three things my life revolves around. What happened with Nathaniel and I was a difficult circumstance to say the least” Rabastan started, before continuing, “The traps they set could only be undone by the person that cast them. If I had tried to undo it, Nathaniel could have ended up bleeding out or worse” he answered, honestly. 

xDespite having barely slept, Antonin was more awake than he had been in weeks; his suspicions were high and his muscles were sore from the tension in his body. Every time he had planned something lately, it seemed to fall apart at the seams and he doubted it was anything to do with his ability or organisational skills. There seemed to be different and conflicting factions within the Death Eaters themselves and he had to nip it in the bud before the organisation was split into a new or different groups. He knew sooner or later, he would have to call a meeting to address this and ensure unification but in the meanwhile, he was going to go through each Death Eater individually to try scout out the reasoning behind the splits within the group. Not to mention; to test their loyalty, to ensure there were no Order infiltrators. Rab was one of the first he would talk to.

Antonin waited patiently on the Lestrange’s younger son at a muggle café. He had a cheap cup of coffee in front of him that was more akin to sugary tar than anything else. Zoning out slightly, he snapped back to reality once he caught sight of Rabastan; he noted that he wasn’t dissimilar to Rodolphus, but he definitely wouldn’t have pegged them as brothers; more like distant cousins. “Rabastan” he smiled; his demeanor friendly but his voice tired, “take a seat. We need to talk”.

@xrlestrange

The night that Nate and Evan were captured, everything had gone completely wrong. Never in a million years would have expected things to go so horribly up in flames. Rabastan was an intelligent person, often more so than anyone gave him credit for, but the Order hadn’t come to play. Their traps were set with every intention of keeping their prey, and despite his best efforts, he had been unable to free Nate. Rabastan hadn’t entirely wanted to leave him there either, but getting both of them caught wasn’t going to do them a damn bit of good. Instead, he had immediately gone to his brother and started working on damage control. Rabastan had enough connections that he could at least try to pull some strings to get them out of their predicament. Still, he knew it didn’t look good, and he had no doubt that the word traitor was being tossed around on his behalf. Despite not being fully invested in the cause the way some of their ranks were, Rabastan wasn’t a traitor.

When one received an order, they saw to it. With any luck, to completion. For whatever reason, Nathanial had been ushered into this evening’s turn of events after quite the stressful week. Of course, there was no sweeter cherry on top than being swallowed up in a trap set by the bloody Order.  War was a constant in every corner of the world, from the highest class to the lowest and every man, woman, and child in between. Wizard kind feigned superiority in that regard; claiming too high a status to ever indulge in such petty games as to cause any real battle. And yet, here he stood- a Death Eater, trapped in a literal web. Thanks to the Order of the Phoenix. Another faction that pretended to be above it all- justice for wizards and muggles alike.  As if it bloody mattered; in the end, they’d all be buried in graves, all worm food, all six feet under. Sod it all to the last ring of hell.  The harder he struggled, the harder the tentacles of his new and very temporary prison gripped at him, seeming to slice into his every cell like razor wire. Were the feeling any more unrelenting, he may have mistaken it for a Cruciatus. Eyes, blurred with the pain that coursed through him, he could hardly recognize Rabastan as he approached. “Careful. There could be others… Fail-safe’s’n’that.” His voice was low, gruff. Exhausted though he’d only been coiled in this mess for a slim margin of time.  Stay calm, he’d offered. He could have scoffed. He could have snarled. He could have glared. But what good would any of that have done in the face of allies he would absolutely need in the coming weeks. Especially if he were to fail his escape from this trap. “Oh, you know me… Just… having a lounge. You carry on, yeah, I’ll just wait here.” As if he had any other bloody place to be.

Rabastan had been left out of this particular mission, which was something he was almost grateful for. He hadn’t had a lot of time to himself recently, and he had been looking forward to having an easy night. Leave it to Nate to throw that plan out the window. Truthfully, it didn’t even matter that it was Nate paging him; he’d have had to go no matter who called for his help, but it almost mattered that it was someone he actually cared about. 

If he had his way, he never would have been in this war, but the choice had not been his own. The ultimatum, though not verbally presented, had been altogether clear; keep his family and join the Death Eaters or lose them all and stay out of it. Rabastan hadn’t found it much of a choice at all. 

At this rate, his main goal was to stop the people loved from becoming casualties. He wasn’t a fool; no one ever actually wins in war. One either dies in the battle, or lives with the guilt. 

Nodding his head, Rabastan gave a hum, “I have no doubt that they’ve set up more than just this” he agreed. They could underestimate the Order all they wanted, but it seemed as though they were finally fighting back, and Rabastan wasn’t going to assume that they didn’t come back swinging. Looking at all the tentacles around him, he carefully asked, “How deep are those tentacles. Once we get them removed you’re not going to start bleeding out are you?” he asked, wanting to make sure they didn’t create a bigger mess before trying to clean up this one.