Rabastan glanced at Rodolphus with an arched brow, feeling genuinely flattered that he had apologised. Realising his expression probably gave him away, Rabastan averted his gaze, shrugging as if it wasn't a big deal. "Don't worry about it."

He took his drink as it arrived, lifting it in front of his face and glancing at it curiously. He downed the shot, wincing slightly at the burn in his throat. He placed his hand on his chest, waiting for it to pass.

The comment about the female Death Eater under the impression she was more favoured than they were made Rabastan snort on impulse. "Is that so? I don't remember her name ever being announced among His inner-most circle." Rabastan hadn't been particularly loud, though he didn't seem to care to speak quietly about such a thing either. "You know how those ones are, though. They all think they're in his favour."

Leaning his elbow against the counter, the younger Lestrange rested the side of his face against his palm. "Now the problem I have with that is that it seems too large of a mission to do without His approval, and I seriously doubt it has been."