Who: Rabastan Lestrange & Rosalind Rookwood When: Friday, 28 August 1980; early evening (backdated!) Where: Rookwood Estate What: Rabastan reveals the truth behind his disappearance. Rating: PG Status: Complete.
Rabastan apparated into the front lawn of Rookwood Estate for his meeting with Rosalind. He had asked her to lend her ear to his story. Likely she would turn him away at what most people would term to be utter stupidity on his part. But he felt as though at least one of his friends should know why he had met Fabian Prewett for lunch and what the circumstances surrounding said lunch had been. Rosalind actually was in a perfect spot for this conversation because her husband was one of the original Death Eaters, not to mention a classmate of the young Dark Lord. So if anyone had the ability to find out the truth about something like this, it would be her. As he contemplated such thoughts, he ascended the porch and knocked on the door.
Rosalind had just got home and was in her bedroom, changing out of her Auror robes, when one of their house elves announced her cousin's arrival. She was expecting Rabastan, as he had warned her of his visit to ensure that she would be home, and she dismissed the elf after telling him to direct her cousin to the library. She planned on pouring over Dark Arts volumes to study the theory behind some curses that Augustus had taught her recently, once her cousin was gone, and so she might as well meet him there. She was glad that her husband wasn't home yet, as he did not hold her cousin in high esteem at the moment. Not that she did either; Rabastan's folly had shocked her and deeply disappointed her. She was curious, though, as to what could have justified, in his eyes, to meet Fabian Prewett and get himself captured. She'd been worried for him, yet so angry at the same time. He had always been more impulsive than his brother, but he had now reached heights that she would never have believed him capable of.
Her curiosity would soon be satisfied, she thought as she gave herself a last look in her dressing room's mirror before heading out. Married for less than a month, she didn't feel entirely home yet at Rookwood Manor and it felt strange to have a guest in Augustus' absence. She wasn't sure when he would be back tonight, and she wondered if he might be able to join them before Rabastan left. She hadn't had dinner yet and she guessed that he most probably wouldn't have either, and so she stopped by the kitchen to order the house elves to keep their dinner warm and ready to be served when Augustus got home. This matter taken care of, she crossed into the library where her cousin was waiting. "Good evening, Rabastan."
When the house elf led him into the Rookwood’s library, Rabastan began perusing the nearest bookshelf. He recognized several books from his father’s own collection. Wondering a moment whether the Dark Lord had suggested manuscripts for them to read, he did not hear Rosalind’s approach until she greeted him. Looking up suddenly, he stepped away from the shelf and replied, “Good evening, Rosalind. Thank you for consenting to meet with me tonight.”
"It is for my own curiosity as much as for you that I did," Rosalind replied, though her tone remained cool. She would not have sought out her cousin for quite some time, had it been only for her, but he had come to her, asked her to hear him out, and she had relented. It was nothing more than that, really. She was glad to see him alive and well, but still annoyed with him. "Please take a seat," she invited him as she took place in one of the comfortable armchairs by the windows.
Sitting in the chair farthest to the right, he leaned backward into its cushions and thought about how he should begin. He had practically given this speech twenty times at home, trying to decide the best approach to take. Now that he had a captive audience, his mind stopped working. However, it looked like he would have to start with a blank slate for this conversation. He rested his chin on his fist and began, “I guess I need to start at the beginning. Fabian and I have had a few conversations over these blasted journals but nothing substantial until three weeks ago. We struck up a dialogue about alcohol. You know blokes - we all like that stuff.”
Hoping she was not reaching the point of boredom, he moved on from his little joke to ask a quick question, “Have you ever heard of someone named Tom Riddle by chance? He was a 1945 Slytherin. Your Mum & Augustus must have known him. Have they ever mentioned his name to you before?”
Rosalind knew how her cousin could be long-winded at times and she did not expect it to be any different this time. On the contrary, she rather thought it would likely be even worse than usual, as he would most probably be nervous. And so she did not show any sign of boredom or impatience as he talked, though she did not smile at his attempt at a joke either. She had no intention to make this easier for Rabastan. He deserved to feel uncomfortable; he deserved much worse, to be honest, but others had already taken care of that, she knew.
"I do not remember the name, no," she answered his question. Her parents reminisced their school days from time to time, like everyone, but they usually only mentioned their close friends, not everyone in their year or house, just as she did when she looked back on her own years at Hogwarts, remembering Romy and Betty more than others, and the same went for Augustus, of course. "I assume this man has something to do with what Prewett told you," she added, raising a curious eyebrow, inviting him to continue.
Rabastan dropped his arm and now sat up straight, “In 1943, my father graduated from Hogwarts and two years later, Augustus and your mum finished school as did the Dark Lord. Well, I did some research and know that the 1945 Slytherin blokes were Orsino Avery, that Order member Dedalus Diggle, Antonin Dolohov, Tom Riddle, & Augustus obviously. By simple deduction, we can eliminate Avery, Dolohov, & Augustus from being the Dark Lord since they are in our Inner Circle and Diggle because he went the other way,” he paused there and sighed as he realized the status he had lost in this bloody mess.
“So that leaves Tom Riddle as the bloke who must be the Dark Lord,” he continued and narrowed his eyebrows. “Now I’d never heard of Riddle before until Fabian Prewett dropped his name on me that evening three weeks ago. This really is not a shock because no one calls the Dark Lord by his real name but I digress. The only reason why this whole name thing threw me was something else that Fabian proceeded to share with me.”
Rosalind sat straighter in her chair. Neither her mother nor Augustus had ever mentioned to her before that they knew the Dark Lord since school and she was surprised by that information. Her mother most probably would not even know about it, if it was true, as she had never met the Dark Lord personally, neither had her father or her brother. Their Lord kept to Himself and very few ever got the chance to meet Him; she counted herself among the luckiest women in Britain that she had met Him and that He had accepted her into His ranks. Augustus, though, would not ignore such a fact, and she wondered if his silence on the topic meant that it was false, or that he had chosen not to share this information with her. She wished she could confidently say that he would never hide anything from her, but it would be utopic. They were both spies, and as such they both knew how worthy information was and how it should sometime be kept on a 'must know' basis. He had secrets from her, she had no doubt about it. As long as they did not entail anything related to their personal relationship, she had no right to expect anything different or to complain about it.
"You seem to know much more than I do," Rosalind merely said, once he was done speaking. "Why would any of this matter?" she asked.
“Here’s the thing. The name Riddle never appears in any of my genealogy books and believe me, I have all of the books just as I would imagine you and Augustus do as well being top tier and all. The most complete source that lists all of the English pureblood families as of 1980 never mentions Riddle as being a pureblood name in our country. Beyond that, I tracked the name backwards through the beginning of the 20th century and never found it once. Personally this all seemed very suspicious to me,” Rabastan chewed on his lip. Now for the hard part – to explain why he had gone off and done what he had.
“The reason that I was so angry with Prewett in general was his claim that the Dark Lord is actually a halfblood, not a pureblood. I wanted to challenge him to a duel but I stayed my hand immediately. He decided to be a prick that one night when I was talking about watching sunsets and we began conversing about the topic yet again,” he related honestly. “He had told me to ask any of the first-generation Death Eaters for Tom Riddle’s identity but I decided to stick to my own research. I do not like to burden other people with this. I prefer to make my own findings and then share them with whom I see fit. So when I asked him the second time after doing some research, he told me that the Dark Lord’s real name is actually Tom Marvolo Riddle and that He is the son of a Muggle – so he is no better than a halfblood according to Fabian’s information. It all checks out really. That is the problem. And with there being no Riddle mentioned in any pureblood book, I cannot prove his heritage as pureblood.”
Leaning forward in his seat, he explained, “My goal was to meet with Prewett and grill him for information about the topic but needless to say, I failed when Prewett’s friend Podmore side-along apparated me to an Order building where I was tied to a chair for about a week. My whole plan was to drag that information out of him and then pass it on to the Dark Lord Himself. I decided that he would likely want to know about such things even if they were lies. Especially if people believed them, I figured that he would want to conduct damage control so I decided to go off without permission and we both saw how well that worked.”
Rosalind's frown grew deeper as Rabastan spoke, her whole demeanor cooling, if that was possible. It took every ounce of her self-control to allow her cousin to continue. Clearly, Bellatrix and Rodolphus had not managed to beat sense into him, despite their attempt. How could he give any credit to Prewett's accusation, even now? "A member of the resistance tells you that our Dark Lord is a half-blood and you give any merit to his word?" she asked, clearly unimpressed. "Believe me, I know the value of information, but they do too, quite obviously, and they know who to talk to in order to get a complacent ear, it seems." Her contempt was impossible to miss.
A house elf chose that very moment to pop by their side in the library, carrying a tea tray, and Rosalind paused. It was more dinner time than tea time, but Rosalind had requested a tray to be brought in to keep her waiting for dinner when Augustus would arrive. "Would you prefer scotch?" she asked as she poured herself a cup of tea. "As for the matter of the Dark Lord's lineage, I can hardly believe that you thought it was worth looking into Prewett's divagations. The man wants to create trouble in our ranks to weaken us, it is obvious. Had you asked a first generation member, rather than go on your own and meet him, you would have saved all of us, yourself first, from much annoyance." She insisted on the word. "Mr Riddle might or might not be our Lord, I do not know, but whether you found the name in english genealogy books means very little. Mr Riddle could come from another country, for all we know."
An icy edge present in his tone, Rabastan responded, “No, I did not give his babbling any merit until I did my own homework. The information that I found is the only reason I gave his words a second thought. Look, I might make idiotic decisions but I have done my fair share for the Dark Lord’s Cause. No one can doubt my commitment to His mission or my desire for Him to succeed, even if we do learn that he is a halfblood. The Dark Lord is our only hope for returning England to the old ways of pureblood supremacy.”
“No, I would prefer a cup of that tea,” he replied hesitantly trying to calm down. “I am attempting to avoid alcoholic beverages for a while.” Rabastan pondered her every word about her disbelief at his decision to investigate the issue. “I do not trust easily, Rosalind. I did not know who Mr. Riddle was upon beginning my search and when I learned he was a 1945 Slytherin, I knew that I had stumbled upon something very dangerous. Father once told me in an unguarded moment, that the Dark Lord had in fact graduated that year in Slytherin so my thoughts predictably flooded with the possibilities. As for speaking to a first generation Death Eater, I must ask what the point is if even the youngest Inner Circle members are not trusted with such information. Surely, my hesitancy in that light is understandable. And if not, then I apologize for wasting your time this evening.”
Her foreigner point made no sense from his vantage point. “First of all, why would Riddle have been sent to England solely to attend Hogwarts? Our nation was the only surviving bastion of backwardness in those days. Even with my grandfather and a few others serving Grindelwald, that Dark Lord could not crack through England’s barriers,” he stated coldly. His maternal grandfather had acted as an informant and his uncle, the original Mulciber heir, had died on the Continent fighting for Grindelwald so his personal feelings ran very high in its devotion to the Greater Good movement. “Riddle is a name from an English-speaking nation and I did my homework on all of them. That man cannot be a pureblood. Unless Tom Riddle is an assumed name, I have difficulty believing that my findings are flawed. Besides, how could a proud pureblood take on another name? Purebloods embrace their heritage, not steer clear of it.”
Rosalind's temper was flaring. She could not believe that her cousin truly believed any of this, yet he seemed so convinced. "Why meet with Prewett, then? What more could he have said to convince you, as you seem already so sure that he was speaking the truth from the start?" She put down her cup of tea, worried she might drop some on herself. Fabian Prewett had certainly known which Death Eater to feed his information to. She did not believe anyone else would have gone and met with him to discuss the issue. Her cousin could be so infuriating.
Rabastan finally felt like he was in his element now even if he had completely frustrated his cousin. "I met with Prewett because I hoped to perform a sort of reconnaissance mission and learn all the information that the masses hold over there. That way, I could return to the Dark Lord with my findings. I supposed that He might be interested in knowing exactly what kind of stories even if they were false that have been planted with the Order fools. This was all my way of serving Him even if my plans were too hasty. I admit that I could have utilized more support, not to mention input from my brother. But I was of the mind that I should keep this story a secret in case the ranks found out and chaos ensued. I still hold to that ideal because although I knew I could trust you with the information, informing others among us is frightening. They might do something highly regrettable."
"Such as getting captured?" Rosalind quipped, raising a sarcastic eyebrow. She took a sip from her cup of tea before continuing. "While gathering information is admirable, it would have been much better to speak of the matter with the Inner Circle or with the Dark Lord himself and form a plan together, if it was deemed necessary, rather than go off by yourself." She wondered what Augustus would think of the whole issue, and she wished that he would come home now and hear it from Rabastan himself.
He shrugged, "Well obviously that was the downfall of my operation. But had I known that they were aiming for capture, I would never have undertaken this mission without first consulting the Inner Circle and the Dark Lord if the situation required. Needless to say, my worst mistake was going off without any real communication with those in that elite group. However, I knew something had to be done what with Fabian spouting off about something that is completely new to me," Rabastan finished the thought in his mind. Rodolphus had not even heard of such a thing, which further showed how little their first generation colleagues trusted the younger comrades even if one was the Minister of Magic. What gave them the right to hide such information from the ranks was beyond him. Although he supposed that it must have something to do with their fear that they would respond just as he had. However, Rabastan had always been more impulsive than nearly any other Death Eater so really it was no shock that Fabian Prewett would have targeted him, a kid with a lot of family clout but a wit far too quick for his own good.
"We never know beforehand when we will get captured, Rabastan, that is the very reason why caution is always necessary," Rosalind sighed, wondering what her cousin's impetuousness would bring them next. "Now tell me, I assume that you shared this information with the Dark Lord and the members of the Inner Circle once you got back," she said, thinking that Augustus must have heard of this by now, "what did they say?"
"I used caution, Rosalind, just not enough evidently," he took a sip of his tea. "Rodolphus took care of that. He made the call to convey the information to the Dark Lord and the Inner Circle himself. So I cannot imagine what they said. It was evident that he was not keen on me making a greater fool of myself in front of the Dark Lord Himself," Rabastan bit his lip and decided that they probably had wished he had been there in order to hex him out of existence. "Besides I was not in any condition to travel for at least three days because I had no nourishment for about five days, not to mention the multiple broken ribs, my broken jaw, and the tooth that was punched out of my mouth."
If he hoped that mentioning his injuries would raise her pity, he was in for a disappointment. "Rodolphus was too good," she commented before taking a sip of her cup of tea. She was quite impatient for Augustus to arrive so that she could discuss this with him. She was curious how the Inner Circle had reacted to the news and she hoped that he could tell her about it. There were many things he was not at a liberty to share with her, and she understood it, but now that she, too, knew of Rabastan's theories, maybe he would be able to tell her.
"You saw Mr Mulciber, did you?" she asked, putting down her cup, her manners kicking in even though she did not care much about the injuries he brought on himself through his foolishness.
At her mention of his brother, he nodded simply and tackled her other statement. "Yes, Rodolphus must have asked Uncle Roman to come by Lestrange Manor at that Inner Circle meeting because I vaguely remember seeing him that night. To tell you the truth, the whole thing is pretty much a blur." Lifting the cup to his lips, he drank the last of the liquid and set the cup neatly down on a saucer. "I should probably let you go. I have some business to take care of tonight in Somerset." Rising to his feet, he stepped away from the chair, "Thank you for listening to me even though I know you find me foolish for ever trying this endeavor."
"Thank you for telling me," Rosalind replied, getting up to accompany him to the door and bid him goodbye properly. She might not think very highly of her cousin at the moment, but she was indeed glad that he had chosen to tell her his story, even though it had done nothing to win her over to his point of view, quite the contrary. "Goodbye, Rabastan."