Rabastan followed silently behind his brother. He couldn't fathom what would lead Rodolphus to keep Bellatrix's coffin, her corpse, in their dungeon. But, then, he'd never loved so deeply as they had. His main concern now was that, if this didn't work, it would break Rodolphus beyond repair.
When they entered the dungeon, Rabastan stayed a respectful distance from the coffin, observing his brother interacting with it. The coffin was truly a work of art, a dark, mahogany wood, polished and, surely, covered in stasis and protection spells. "I...Yes, that's certainly..." Rabastan had no idea what he was supposed to say. His brother had laid his dead wife to rest in their dungeon, what did anyone say to that?
Slowly, waiting to make sure he wouldn't be hexed if he got too close, Rabastan made his way to the coffin. "Brother," he murmured, "Why did you put the coffin down here? The family still has a mausoleum, where the dead are usually laid to rest, why our dungeon?"