Rabastan Lestrange, Pensieve, 1971
Name: Rabastan Lestrange
Date: 1971
Format: Pensieve memory
Relevance: Evidence surrounding the mysterious death of Mr. R Lestrange, father of Rodolphus and Rabastan. Suggestion of foul play on the part of the older boy.
It’s two thirty in the afternoon. Rabastan is ten, and hungry. Lunch was at one but they only had sandwiches and scones and he’s hungry again. Mother is in bed, she has a headache.
Rodolphus and father are on the landing. They are arguing. They are always arguing. Rabastan pushes the door open a little wider, not wanting to go down now while they’re still so angry. He can’t quite hear what they’re saying but he knows it almost off by heart - Father doesn’t think Rodolphus is old enough to take on some of the responsibilities of the house and the name, and Rodolphus thinks father is passing him over -making him wait until Rabastan is older so Rabastan can usurp his place.
Rabastan doesn’t want his place. He wants more scones. They had cream and jam.
Father shakes his head, watching Rodolphus warily. “You’re still in school. Wait a few years and then see how things stand.”
“I don’t want to wait a few years! You could at least give me something to do! There must be something you don’t want to handle that I could”
“You’re too implosive!” Father says, circling Rodolphus as if he is a dangerous wild creature. “You have this sadistic streak you need to curb before I could ever consider…”
“It’s not sadism. It’s power.” Rodolphus cuts across him. “And you’re afraid of me!”
Father opens his mouth to rebuff him, but instead he grabs his chest, a soft pained sound escaping his mouth and he staggers away from Rodolphus -towards the top of the stairs.
Rabastan grips the door tightly, unable to look away.
Rodolphus follows their father, so much more slowly than Rabastan would have thought he would as father continues to stumble from him, although he keeps watching Rodolphus and not where he’s walking, and the top step was falling away behind him and Rodolphus reaches out and….
And pushes him.
And father falls and there was the most sickening noise and Rabastan shoots back from the door. He hears Rodolphus’s footsteps down the stairs, and his brother shouting for the house elves, but he runs - runs back along the hallway to mother’s room and under the bed covers with her and her lilac, powdery smell and buries his head in her shoulder and waits, tense and terrified, for Rodolphus to find them too.
Mr. Lestrange died of a broken neck consistent with his fall down the stairs. There where signs, however, that he was in cardiac arrest at the time of his fall. Small amounts of poison were found in his blood system and his liver indicating long time exposure - but no one in the family was ever charged and the death was ruled accidental.
The poison was hypothesized to have been introduced to his system either by his own indigestion, or the attempts of some third party outside the family to make him seriously ill. The amount and strength of the poison would not have been enough to kill Mr. Lestrange.
Date: 1971
Format: Pensieve memory
Relevance: Evidence surrounding the mysterious death of Mr. R Lestrange, father of Rodolphus and Rabastan. Suggestion of foul play on the part of the older boy.
It’s two thirty in the afternoon. Rabastan is ten, and hungry. Lunch was at one but they only had sandwiches and scones and he’s hungry again. Mother is in bed, she has a headache.
Rodolphus and father are on the landing. They are arguing. They are always arguing. Rabastan pushes the door open a little wider, not wanting to go down now while they’re still so angry. He can’t quite hear what they’re saying but he knows it almost off by heart - Father doesn’t think Rodolphus is old enough to take on some of the responsibilities of the house and the name, and Rodolphus thinks father is passing him over -making him wait until Rabastan is older so Rabastan can usurp his place.
Rabastan doesn’t want his place. He wants more scones. They had cream and jam.
Father shakes his head, watching Rodolphus warily. “You’re still in school. Wait a few years and then see how things stand.”
“I don’t want to wait a few years! You could at least give me something to do! There must be something you don’t want to handle that I could”
“You’re too implosive!” Father says, circling Rodolphus as if he is a dangerous wild creature. “You have this sadistic streak you need to curb before I could ever consider…”
“It’s not sadism. It’s power.” Rodolphus cuts across him. “And you’re afraid of me!”
Father opens his mouth to rebuff him, but instead he grabs his chest, a soft pained sound escaping his mouth and he staggers away from Rodolphus -towards the top of the stairs.
Rabastan grips the door tightly, unable to look away.
Rodolphus follows their father, so much more slowly than Rabastan would have thought he would as father continues to stumble from him, although he keeps watching Rodolphus and not where he’s walking, and the top step was falling away behind him and Rodolphus reaches out and….
And pushes him.
And father falls and there was the most sickening noise and Rabastan shoots back from the door. He hears Rodolphus’s footsteps down the stairs, and his brother shouting for the house elves, but he runs - runs back along the hallway to mother’s room and under the bed covers with her and her lilac, powdery smell and buries his head in her shoulder and waits, tense and terrified, for Rodolphus to find them too.
Mr. Lestrange died of a broken neck consistent with his fall down the stairs. There where signs, however, that he was in cardiac arrest at the time of his fall. Small amounts of poison were found in his blood system and his liver indicating long time exposure - but no one in the family was ever charged and the death was ruled accidental.
The poison was hypothesized to have been introduced to his system either by his own indigestion, or the attempts of some third party outside the family to make him seriously ill. The amount and strength of the poison would not have been enough to kill Mr. Lestrange.