Rabastan had not been sure how to handle his arrival. It was downright unnerving, to see parts of himself in an older stranger's face, to see the tole that years in Azkaban had taken on him. And yet his older self seemed unimaginably happy, with a wife and children he clearly adored. He looked far stronger than Rabastan had imagined that he might be...and yet there was still the fact that he had been to Azkaban and back, that Meda felt the need to stand up for her father. It was all quite confusing.

That was why Rabastan had been staying mostly to his room after the unexpected Christmas arrival. He saw how happy Meda and Xander were at the arrival of their real parents, and he didn't want to put a damper on their mood by asking the wrong question and bringing up bad memories. He had been reading, but when Narcissa knocked on the open doorframe he closed the book.

"Of course," He said quietly, his eyes going over her again.

She's different than my Narcissa...stronger somehow, and not just because she's older. It's not bad...or even good, just different. Realizing that he had thought of Narcissa Black as 'his' Narcissa, Rabastan sighed softly and nodded at a chair.

"You can sit down, if you'd like."