Rabbit: July 1971
Title: Rabbit
Chapter Number/Title: July 1971: And (53/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 2021
Workshop?: Suggestions welcome.
Note: Thanks to maxineofarc for her original writing of Rodolphus in this scene.
July 30, 1971
And
Rabastan had been having a decent evening, quietly working on a puzzle, when his father opened the door. The boy jumped up from the short wooden table. "Yes, Father?"
Theodore Lestrange stood tall and looked down at his second son. "About your schooling...”
Rabastan felt his breath shorten. He had pleaded his case for Durmstrang with resilience, with occasional appeals for Beauxbatons, and now, time was closing in to notify the school of his intentions.
“I spoke with your brother, and I have decided it will be for the best if you go to Hogwarts in September. I shall the response owl presently -- it is due tomorrow. I trust you can accept my decision?"
The boy nodded. He had originally wanted to go to Hogwarts, where his father went, and where Sirius and nearly everyone he knew went or was going to go, but over the winter he had realized that it was also where Rodolphus was going. He would want to be in Slytherin if he were at Hogwarts, but then, even more, he would held to a standard of how well Rodolphus did. The last thing he needed was to be constantly compared to Rodolphus by every teacher, upper form, and passerby. He had the rest of his life for that. But of course, he wasn't going to argue it with his father. Father's word was law at Tor Delorage, and Rabastan was not the type to challenge a parental decree.
Rabastan was, however, not opposed to challenging his brother. As soon as it was clear that his father had left the hallway, he threw the door back open and stormed his ways through the halls of the wing until he came to Rodolphus' room. When he arrived, Rabastan took a deep breath, still fuming and squinting in anger, and knocked three times.
“Come in,” came a distracted call from behind the door.
Rabastan pushed the door open and walked in just far enough to close it behind him. Rodolphus had barely finished unpacking mementos from his most recent year at Hogwarts, and was hanging up a picture of the champion Slytherin Quidditch side, himself in the center proudly brandishing the Cup.
It was everything Rabastan hated right now. He glared up at his brother, stepping over the new decorations being hung around the room. "Do you like making my life a joke?" He was much smaller and much younger, but his voice was sharp and full of resentment. "Is it a game for you? Or is it just chance that every time you do anything it makes my life four times worse?!" Rabastan's voice raised with each question, determined to capture his brother's attention. His hands were balled into fists which he jerked slightly in emphases, and he leaned forward to direct his ire.
Of course, it did not take such a fit for Rabastan to get his brother’s attention. Rodolphus blinked at the diminutive ball of fury. "What are you talking about, Rabbit? What joke?"
Rabastan wasn't sure how Rodolphus could act so casually about the whole thing. "What am I talking about? Maybe about where you RUINED MY LIFE."
Perhaps it was a little exaggerated, but in a way, it was also true. He opened his mouth to explain, but all that came out was an emotional jet of words: "What good does it do you for me to be at Hogwarts except to keep me under you? I'm tired of it!! I don't CARE about stupid DURMSTRANG and their stupid freezing weather, but I WON'T go to Hogwarts. I WON'T! I'd rather go live with Grandmaman in France and go to Beauxbatons and never see your STUPID FACE AGAIN!"
Rodolphus just stared at his brother. The Slytherin banner dangled in his fingers, quite forgotten. Rabastan got upset, Rabastan cried. Rabastan did not throw tantrums at his brother like this. Realization worked its way across his face and struck him into an uncharacteristic speechlessness. As that passed, he shook his head and spoke to the breathless boy. “I don’t want to keep you under me, Rabbit. I want you to succeed-and you can’t do that properly at Durmstrang. And certainly not at Beauxbatons.”
"No you don't, no you DON'T," Rabastan exploded. "You don’t want me to succeed. I can't succeed at Hogwarts! I don't want to!” He was standing right in front of Rodolphus now, and any check on his anger had been lost. “I don't want to be at your school, I don't want to be in your House, I don't want to see you! Ever! I hate you I hate you I HATE you!" Rabastan pounded his small fist into Dolph's chest as hard as he could as he reached the last reiteration. Of course his brother--not only six years older, but a star Beater and quite the skilled wizard--could do far more damage to Rabastan than Rabastan would be able to do in his little tantrum, and he recoiled slightly when he realized what he had done.
As soon as he hesitated, he felt Rodolphus’ strong grip around the wrist-enough to hold it still without any harm. Rabastan did not fight it, but breathed heavily, and glared at Rodolphus with eyes full of anger and brimming with tears. Before the tears could escape, Rodolphus pulled his brother into a tight hug, holding him close whether he wanted it or not.
Rabastan’s anger broke way into crying, and he was grateful to be held close to Rodolphus, for the schoolboy’s robes acted to muffle his younger brother's crying. Maman had tolerated crying when Rabbit was little, but at eleven, even she expected him not to act so childishly. Thankfully, his anger and tears were not met with admonishment.
It was all so unfair, he thought as the hold around him relaxed. Did he hate Dolph? It had been rare that Rabastan had blamed his older brother for their birth order, or whatever was clearly beyond anyone's control, but Rodolphus had gone directly against Rabastan's wishes, had killed his one chance at making himself known as anything other than the second to his brother. If he wanted Rabastan to succeed, why did he insist on making it so hard?
After a minute or so, Rabastan's sobs quieted, and he pulled away from his brother, sniffling quietly. "I'm sorry, I don't hate you," he whispered, looking at the ground. Rabastan looked back up and raised his voice, determined not to give in completely. "But that wasn't… It was cruel of you to speak to Father. I don't want to go there." He shook his head, and repeated in a drawled whisper, "I don't."
Rodolphus brushed the tears from his brother’s face with his fingertips, his own expression serious as always. "Come on." He sat down on his bed, gesturing for Rabastan to sit beside him. "I know you don't want to go there, Rabbit. I am sorry. I'm not doing it to be cruel."
"Th-then," Rabastan stammered as he took a seat on his brother's bed, "why'd you do it? I can't succeed at Hogwarts-I'll just be seen as some second-rate version of you, the p-perfect Lestrange. You like it, you do, you do," he repeated irrationally. "You like knowing I'll be compared to you for seven years. Otherwise, you wouldn't tell them to make me g-go."
He could not remember being so terribly confused as this. He was angry at Rodolphus, but it was Rodolphus who was acting so kind to him. It was hard to believe that Rodolphus wasn't keeping him in England for his own sake - Rodolphus was a Slytherin, after all. Rabastan scrunched up his face and focused on the pattern on a near-by end-table.
Rodolphus placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. "First," he said gravely, "I am far from the perfect Lestrange. I’m just the heir, so I have to look like it. And second - do you know what happens if something were to happen to me, Rabbit? If I died, you'd be heir.”
Rabastan smiled, just barely, but nodded his head. "Nothing'll happen to you, Dolphin-you're Dolphin. And Father'd never allow it."
Rodolphus pressed on. “Anything can happen. You need to be strong, and you can't get to be strong by running away. Rabbit, I don't want you to be a second-rate version of me. I want you to be a first-rate version of you."
"I wasn't running away," Rabastan protested lamely. He kicked sideways at the bedframe below him. "Just for school. You know they'll do it, too. if I do anything the same as you it'll just be, oh he's following his brother," he explained, kicking regularly now, "and I'll be measured up to how well you did. So much for Quidditch." The small dark blue eyes darted around the room, taking in the triumphant Quidditch side, and then looked up at his brother, whose eyes had never left him.
"Here's the thing, though, Rabbit," Rodolphus said after a moment. "The only one comparing you to me right now is you. The only one letting me hold you back right now is you, do you see?" At the very least, Rodolphus could always be counted upon to speak to his brother with respect - not as an equal, surely, but with respect. "Do you love Quidditch? Then play. Play, for Merlin’s sake. Play because you love it; don't sit on the sidelines hating it because you hate me. That goes for all the rest of it too, little Rabbit. I might be there but you have it in you to carve your own way. And it's harder, but you're stronger."
"Mmm," Rabastan responded. "Maybe. I'm pretty sure it'll happen, though. And I don't want to be mediocre. Even if I get to be captain, I won't be anything special, because you won the Cup." He sighed. "I'll try. I have to, I know that. Though I still don't see how it'd hurt to go to a different school."
Of course, deep down he knew he couldn't bear not going to Hogwarts-missing out on all the experiences he'd heard about from Dolph and Father and Mr. Avery and the Blacks and Bella and Andromeda... and Sirius would be there, and Darren and Evan and even Regulus and Cissy... Would he want to be the only one? Maybe Rodolphus knew that, and that was why he intervened.
"You just don't know how extraordinary you can be, Rabbit. Time to find out. I’m excited to have you at my school, not to watch you fail, but to watch you flourish. And after I leave, you’re going to step up and be even more amazing. We aren’t at odds, you know. We’re a team. Rodolphus and Rabastan! Hogwarts won’t know what hit them.” Rodolphus slipped an arm around Rabastan’s skinny shoulders. “No matter what happens, I love you, okay?"
"I love you too, I guess," he ceded. It had, indeed, quite a change from when he had been screaming about how much he hated his brother. That wasn't all gone, but Rodolphus made everything seem so reasonable. Rabastan hated that his brother could do that, but he had no way to argue it.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you before. It just… it just isn't fair. You never have to deal with this." Rabastan shrugged and bit his lip.
"It's okay." Rodolphus smiled. "Listen, I'll take you up to London, to Diagon Alley, and we'll buy you everything you need. Anything you want. And if you like, you can invite your friends and I’ll treat everyone to ice cream in celebration."
It was not much, but the gesture of goodwill helped. Rabastan scratched his head, looked up at his brother, and nodded. And for the first time in his life thought that maybe, someday, he would stand alongside his brother, rather than in his shadow. Rodolphus and Rabastan.
Chapter Number/Title: July 1971: And (53/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 2021
Workshop?: Suggestions welcome.
Note: Thanks to maxineofarc for her original writing of Rodolphus in this scene.
July 30, 1971
And
Rabastan had been having a decent evening, quietly working on a puzzle, when his father opened the door. The boy jumped up from the short wooden table. "Yes, Father?"
Theodore Lestrange stood tall and looked down at his second son. "About your schooling...”
Rabastan felt his breath shorten. He had pleaded his case for Durmstrang with resilience, with occasional appeals for Beauxbatons, and now, time was closing in to notify the school of his intentions.
“I spoke with your brother, and I have decided it will be for the best if you go to Hogwarts in September. I shall the response owl presently -- it is due tomorrow. I trust you can accept my decision?"
The boy nodded. He had originally wanted to go to Hogwarts, where his father went, and where Sirius and nearly everyone he knew went or was going to go, but over the winter he had realized that it was also where Rodolphus was going. He would want to be in Slytherin if he were at Hogwarts, but then, even more, he would held to a standard of how well Rodolphus did. The last thing he needed was to be constantly compared to Rodolphus by every teacher, upper form, and passerby. He had the rest of his life for that. But of course, he wasn't going to argue it with his father. Father's word was law at Tor Delorage, and Rabastan was not the type to challenge a parental decree.
Rabastan was, however, not opposed to challenging his brother. As soon as it was clear that his father had left the hallway, he threw the door back open and stormed his ways through the halls of the wing until he came to Rodolphus' room. When he arrived, Rabastan took a deep breath, still fuming and squinting in anger, and knocked three times.
“Come in,” came a distracted call from behind the door.
Rabastan pushed the door open and walked in just far enough to close it behind him. Rodolphus had barely finished unpacking mementos from his most recent year at Hogwarts, and was hanging up a picture of the champion Slytherin Quidditch side, himself in the center proudly brandishing the Cup.
It was everything Rabastan hated right now. He glared up at his brother, stepping over the new decorations being hung around the room. "Do you like making my life a joke?" He was much smaller and much younger, but his voice was sharp and full of resentment. "Is it a game for you? Or is it just chance that every time you do anything it makes my life four times worse?!" Rabastan's voice raised with each question, determined to capture his brother's attention. His hands were balled into fists which he jerked slightly in emphases, and he leaned forward to direct his ire.
Of course, it did not take such a fit for Rabastan to get his brother’s attention. Rodolphus blinked at the diminutive ball of fury. "What are you talking about, Rabbit? What joke?"
Rabastan wasn't sure how Rodolphus could act so casually about the whole thing. "What am I talking about? Maybe about where you RUINED MY LIFE."
Perhaps it was a little exaggerated, but in a way, it was also true. He opened his mouth to explain, but all that came out was an emotional jet of words: "What good does it do you for me to be at Hogwarts except to keep me under you? I'm tired of it!! I don't CARE about stupid DURMSTRANG and their stupid freezing weather, but I WON'T go to Hogwarts. I WON'T! I'd rather go live with Grandmaman in France and go to Beauxbatons and never see your STUPID FACE AGAIN!"
Rodolphus just stared at his brother. The Slytherin banner dangled in his fingers, quite forgotten. Rabastan got upset, Rabastan cried. Rabastan did not throw tantrums at his brother like this. Realization worked its way across his face and struck him into an uncharacteristic speechlessness. As that passed, he shook his head and spoke to the breathless boy. “I don’t want to keep you under me, Rabbit. I want you to succeed-and you can’t do that properly at Durmstrang. And certainly not at Beauxbatons.”
"No you don't, no you DON'T," Rabastan exploded. "You don’t want me to succeed. I can't succeed at Hogwarts! I don't want to!” He was standing right in front of Rodolphus now, and any check on his anger had been lost. “I don't want to be at your school, I don't want to be in your House, I don't want to see you! Ever! I hate you I hate you I HATE you!" Rabastan pounded his small fist into Dolph's chest as hard as he could as he reached the last reiteration. Of course his brother--not only six years older, but a star Beater and quite the skilled wizard--could do far more damage to Rabastan than Rabastan would be able to do in his little tantrum, and he recoiled slightly when he realized what he had done.
As soon as he hesitated, he felt Rodolphus’ strong grip around the wrist-enough to hold it still without any harm. Rabastan did not fight it, but breathed heavily, and glared at Rodolphus with eyes full of anger and brimming with tears. Before the tears could escape, Rodolphus pulled his brother into a tight hug, holding him close whether he wanted it or not.
Rabastan’s anger broke way into crying, and he was grateful to be held close to Rodolphus, for the schoolboy’s robes acted to muffle his younger brother's crying. Maman had tolerated crying when Rabbit was little, but at eleven, even she expected him not to act so childishly. Thankfully, his anger and tears were not met with admonishment.
It was all so unfair, he thought as the hold around him relaxed. Did he hate Dolph? It had been rare that Rabastan had blamed his older brother for their birth order, or whatever was clearly beyond anyone's control, but Rodolphus had gone directly against Rabastan's wishes, had killed his one chance at making himself known as anything other than the second to his brother. If he wanted Rabastan to succeed, why did he insist on making it so hard?
After a minute or so, Rabastan's sobs quieted, and he pulled away from his brother, sniffling quietly. "I'm sorry, I don't hate you," he whispered, looking at the ground. Rabastan looked back up and raised his voice, determined not to give in completely. "But that wasn't… It was cruel of you to speak to Father. I don't want to go there." He shook his head, and repeated in a drawled whisper, "I don't."
Rodolphus brushed the tears from his brother’s face with his fingertips, his own expression serious as always. "Come on." He sat down on his bed, gesturing for Rabastan to sit beside him. "I know you don't want to go there, Rabbit. I am sorry. I'm not doing it to be cruel."
"Th-then," Rabastan stammered as he took a seat on his brother's bed, "why'd you do it? I can't succeed at Hogwarts-I'll just be seen as some second-rate version of you, the p-perfect Lestrange. You like it, you do, you do," he repeated irrationally. "You like knowing I'll be compared to you for seven years. Otherwise, you wouldn't tell them to make me g-go."
He could not remember being so terribly confused as this. He was angry at Rodolphus, but it was Rodolphus who was acting so kind to him. It was hard to believe that Rodolphus wasn't keeping him in England for his own sake - Rodolphus was a Slytherin, after all. Rabastan scrunched up his face and focused on the pattern on a near-by end-table.
Rodolphus placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. "First," he said gravely, "I am far from the perfect Lestrange. I’m just the heir, so I have to look like it. And second - do you know what happens if something were to happen to me, Rabbit? If I died, you'd be heir.”
Rabastan smiled, just barely, but nodded his head. "Nothing'll happen to you, Dolphin-you're Dolphin. And Father'd never allow it."
Rodolphus pressed on. “Anything can happen. You need to be strong, and you can't get to be strong by running away. Rabbit, I don't want you to be a second-rate version of me. I want you to be a first-rate version of you."
"I wasn't running away," Rabastan protested lamely. He kicked sideways at the bedframe below him. "Just for school. You know they'll do it, too. if I do anything the same as you it'll just be, oh he's following his brother," he explained, kicking regularly now, "and I'll be measured up to how well you did. So much for Quidditch." The small dark blue eyes darted around the room, taking in the triumphant Quidditch side, and then looked up at his brother, whose eyes had never left him.
"Here's the thing, though, Rabbit," Rodolphus said after a moment. "The only one comparing you to me right now is you. The only one letting me hold you back right now is you, do you see?" At the very least, Rodolphus could always be counted upon to speak to his brother with respect - not as an equal, surely, but with respect. "Do you love Quidditch? Then play. Play, for Merlin’s sake. Play because you love it; don't sit on the sidelines hating it because you hate me. That goes for all the rest of it too, little Rabbit. I might be there but you have it in you to carve your own way. And it's harder, but you're stronger."
"Mmm," Rabastan responded. "Maybe. I'm pretty sure it'll happen, though. And I don't want to be mediocre. Even if I get to be captain, I won't be anything special, because you won the Cup." He sighed. "I'll try. I have to, I know that. Though I still don't see how it'd hurt to go to a different school."
Of course, deep down he knew he couldn't bear not going to Hogwarts-missing out on all the experiences he'd heard about from Dolph and Father and Mr. Avery and the Blacks and Bella and Andromeda... and Sirius would be there, and Darren and Evan and even Regulus and Cissy... Would he want to be the only one? Maybe Rodolphus knew that, and that was why he intervened.
"You just don't know how extraordinary you can be, Rabbit. Time to find out. I’m excited to have you at my school, not to watch you fail, but to watch you flourish. And after I leave, you’re going to step up and be even more amazing. We aren’t at odds, you know. We’re a team. Rodolphus and Rabastan! Hogwarts won’t know what hit them.” Rodolphus slipped an arm around Rabastan’s skinny shoulders. “No matter what happens, I love you, okay?"
"I love you too, I guess," he ceded. It had, indeed, quite a change from when he had been screaming about how much he hated his brother. That wasn't all gone, but Rodolphus made everything seem so reasonable. Rabastan hated that his brother could do that, but he had no way to argue it.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you before. It just… it just isn't fair. You never have to deal with this." Rabastan shrugged and bit his lip.
"It's okay." Rodolphus smiled. "Listen, I'll take you up to London, to Diagon Alley, and we'll buy you everything you need. Anything you want. And if you like, you can invite your friends and I’ll treat everyone to ice cream in celebration."
It was not much, but the gesture of goodwill helped. Rabastan scratched his head, looked up at his brother, and nodded. And for the first time in his life thought that maybe, someday, he would stand alongside his brother, rather than in his shadow. Rodolphus and Rabastan.