Fic: Picture of a Friendship for aliciadances
Title: Picture of a Friendship
Author: alley_skywalker
Recipient: aliciadances
Character(s): Rabastan, Regulus, cameos by others
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,119
Warnings: off-screen canon character death
Summary: Rabastan is Regulus’ best friend.
Rabastan is Regulus’ best friend.
There’s a two year difference between them but they grew up together, the Lestranges
and the Blacks constantly calling on each other. They called on the Malfoys too, but there
was only Lucius and he was so much older than Regulus that he would never play games
with the little Black.
Not that either Regulus or Rabastan are loud troublemakers. Unlike Rodolphus, Rabastan
is far more reserved and quiet. He is introverted in the same sort of way that Regulus is.
Part of Regulus’ quiet manner is his raising, of course, and having Sirius for an older
brother. Regulus was born the younger son and he had always held a place in the shadow
of the heir. Then there are the reserved manners of polite company that Regulus found
far less burdensome than his brother and almost as though to not be like Sirius, to be
better, to please his parents more, Regulus acts in a way as radically opposing Sirius as he
possibly can.
Rabastan never needed quite so much encouragement from circumstances. He is serious
by nature and he was drawn in by both Regulus’ similar quiet as well as his more uplifted
inner core. Regulus is far more idealistic that Rabastan, far more passionate. But they
compliment each other nicely, finding balance between themselves.
Regulus found his outlet in quidditch before he entered Antonin Dolohov’s training.
Rabastan, however, kept mostly to himself and the library, even when Regulus came to
Hogwarts, until he was admitted to the Academy. There he blossomed in a mature sort
of way. Rabastan is good at fighting and he is decent at teaching. There is a precision in
everything he does while Regulus is more smooth and lithe, a silken handkerchief and a
fine wine as compared to Rabastan’s silver dagger and rich brandy.
Together they complete a set, a decorative piece in the old, elegant style. Antonin likes to
put them together as a fighting pair. Most would consider this an odd choice but it makes
perfect sense to everyone who knows them. They can interpret each other well. Regulus
works well with many people but Rabastan is harder to place and together they provide
an effective, solid pair, especially on broom.
This intimacy comes from many things. From growing up together to the hours Rabastan
spent tutoring Regulus to do things like ride his broom or pass his first month of
transfiguration. They still take walks together and end up sitting on the edge of a pond or
a stream, Rabastan drawing in the dirt with a stick and Regulus lying back on the grass,
both hands under his head, staring up at the sky. Sometimes they do not speak, preferring
to soak in the day, the world around them. They each interpret it in different ways -
Rabastan in details and Regulus in splotches of color and feeling. Sometimes they will
share their observations and laugh at each other’s peculiarities but this only gives them
better insight into each other.
Regulus enjoys flying a lot more than Rabastan but the young Lestrange will give in from
time to time and go soaring with Regulus into the large blue expanse of the sky, brushing
the bottoms of clouds and laughing into the wind. “It feels free doesn’t it?” Regulus asks,
flipping his broom. “You can be anything you want up here! Even a bird if you wish.”
Rabastan nods, allowing himself to relax. Regulus allows him to calm his nerves, get rid
of that snappiness that threatens to break loose sometimes. He knows he can’t let it win
or he will end up hysterical like his brother and Rabastan does not want that.
They share dreams of the future with each other. Rabastan’s are more vague. He wishes
to win respect in this war for his talents as a fighter. Regulus wants the same thing but in
more boyish, glorified terms. He lives for the Cause and his family. Rabastan does the
same but in a more withheld sort of way.
Their friends tease them sometimes, calling them the “love birds.” Neither of them minds
particularly. “Love comes in many shapes, does it not, gentlemen?” Regulus says softly
one night while their battle squad is sitting around a spontaneously decided on bonfire
and eats smores.
Avery, who had started this round of playful joking, shrugs. “You two just look very snug
over there.”
Rabastan smirks and puts one arm around Regulus as if to goad them on purpose.
“I think he’s right. Love is…it’s in everything that’s beautiful and right. In everything
that is worth fighting for,” Anatole Bonfante says so seriously that Barty snickers and
Severus rolls his eyes. Severus receives an elbow in the side for that from Evan and Barty
- an exasperated glare.
“Love is magic,” Evan says softly and he meets Regulus’ eyes.
“Magic is love,” Regulus echoes and feels Rabastan’s hand tighten on his shoulder.
“I’ll drink to that!” Wilkes interjects happily and holds up a bottle of firewhisky. They
laugh and drink and the war seems like a million miles and years away in that moment.
When Regulus dies, Rabastan feels like something more than a person has gone out
of his life. He feels like the smoothness to everything is gone, like he can suddenly
feel all the sharp edges he had only seen before. It makes it easier to keep fighting and
living. It makes it easier to follow Rodolphus and Bellatrix into the hideout of Frank and
Alice Longbottom, to cast the necessary curses and to watch his brother and sister-in-
law do most of the dirty work as he stands guard. Regulus had never liked revenge but
Rabastan saw its utility. Now that Regulus is gone, he feels that utility as well. Barty,
who is with them, seems indifferent at first, but the pressure of the scene takes hold of
even him finally and he begins to wince and squirm. His wand hand droops and he looks
questioningly at Rabastan, as though to ask if this really has to be done.
“They don’t know anything,” Barty mouths.
“For Regulus?” Rabastan asks. He knows, deep inside, that Regulus might not have
wanted this. But he isn’t the only casualty in this war.
Barty confirms this a moment later as his hand stills and his shaking subsides and calms
into resolve. “For everyone.”
Rabastan had always thought that if he could bring one person back from the dead it
would be Regulus. But as he stands before the Wizengamot he thinks that perhaps it is
better that Regulus did not live to suffer this humiliation. That does not make missing
him any easier.
Regulus was Rabastan’s best friend.
Author: alley_skywalker
Recipient: aliciadances
Character(s): Rabastan, Regulus, cameos by others
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,119
Warnings: off-screen canon character death
Summary: Rabastan is Regulus’ best friend.
Rabastan is Regulus’ best friend.
There’s a two year difference between them but they grew up together, the Lestranges
and the Blacks constantly calling on each other. They called on the Malfoys too, but there
was only Lucius and he was so much older than Regulus that he would never play games
with the little Black.
Not that either Regulus or Rabastan are loud troublemakers. Unlike Rodolphus, Rabastan
is far more reserved and quiet. He is introverted in the same sort of way that Regulus is.
Part of Regulus’ quiet manner is his raising, of course, and having Sirius for an older
brother. Regulus was born the younger son and he had always held a place in the shadow
of the heir. Then there are the reserved manners of polite company that Regulus found
far less burdensome than his brother and almost as though to not be like Sirius, to be
better, to please his parents more, Regulus acts in a way as radically opposing Sirius as he
possibly can.
Rabastan never needed quite so much encouragement from circumstances. He is serious
by nature and he was drawn in by both Regulus’ similar quiet as well as his more uplifted
inner core. Regulus is far more idealistic that Rabastan, far more passionate. But they
compliment each other nicely, finding balance between themselves.
Regulus found his outlet in quidditch before he entered Antonin Dolohov’s training.
Rabastan, however, kept mostly to himself and the library, even when Regulus came to
Hogwarts, until he was admitted to the Academy. There he blossomed in a mature sort
of way. Rabastan is good at fighting and he is decent at teaching. There is a precision in
everything he does while Regulus is more smooth and lithe, a silken handkerchief and a
fine wine as compared to Rabastan’s silver dagger and rich brandy.
Together they complete a set, a decorative piece in the old, elegant style. Antonin likes to
put them together as a fighting pair. Most would consider this an odd choice but it makes
perfect sense to everyone who knows them. They can interpret each other well. Regulus
works well with many people but Rabastan is harder to place and together they provide
an effective, solid pair, especially on broom.
This intimacy comes from many things. From growing up together to the hours Rabastan
spent tutoring Regulus to do things like ride his broom or pass his first month of
transfiguration. They still take walks together and end up sitting on the edge of a pond or
a stream, Rabastan drawing in the dirt with a stick and Regulus lying back on the grass,
both hands under his head, staring up at the sky. Sometimes they do not speak, preferring
to soak in the day, the world around them. They each interpret it in different ways -
Rabastan in details and Regulus in splotches of color and feeling. Sometimes they will
share their observations and laugh at each other’s peculiarities but this only gives them
better insight into each other.
Regulus enjoys flying a lot more than Rabastan but the young Lestrange will give in from
time to time and go soaring with Regulus into the large blue expanse of the sky, brushing
the bottoms of clouds and laughing into the wind. “It feels free doesn’t it?” Regulus asks,
flipping his broom. “You can be anything you want up here! Even a bird if you wish.”
Rabastan nods, allowing himself to relax. Regulus allows him to calm his nerves, get rid
of that snappiness that threatens to break loose sometimes. He knows he can’t let it win
or he will end up hysterical like his brother and Rabastan does not want that.
They share dreams of the future with each other. Rabastan’s are more vague. He wishes
to win respect in this war for his talents as a fighter. Regulus wants the same thing but in
more boyish, glorified terms. He lives for the Cause and his family. Rabastan does the
same but in a more withheld sort of way.
Their friends tease them sometimes, calling them the “love birds.” Neither of them minds
particularly. “Love comes in many shapes, does it not, gentlemen?” Regulus says softly
one night while their battle squad is sitting around a spontaneously decided on bonfire
and eats smores.
Avery, who had started this round of playful joking, shrugs. “You two just look very snug
over there.”
Rabastan smirks and puts one arm around Regulus as if to goad them on purpose.
“I think he’s right. Love is…it’s in everything that’s beautiful and right. In everything
that is worth fighting for,” Anatole Bonfante says so seriously that Barty snickers and
Severus rolls his eyes. Severus receives an elbow in the side for that from Evan and Barty
- an exasperated glare.
“Love is magic,” Evan says softly and he meets Regulus’ eyes.
“Magic is love,” Regulus echoes and feels Rabastan’s hand tighten on his shoulder.
“I’ll drink to that!” Wilkes interjects happily and holds up a bottle of firewhisky. They
laugh and drink and the war seems like a million miles and years away in that moment.
When Regulus dies, Rabastan feels like something more than a person has gone out
of his life. He feels like the smoothness to everything is gone, like he can suddenly
feel all the sharp edges he had only seen before. It makes it easier to keep fighting and
living. It makes it easier to follow Rodolphus and Bellatrix into the hideout of Frank and
Alice Longbottom, to cast the necessary curses and to watch his brother and sister-in-
law do most of the dirty work as he stands guard. Regulus had never liked revenge but
Rabastan saw its utility. Now that Regulus is gone, he feels that utility as well. Barty,
who is with them, seems indifferent at first, but the pressure of the scene takes hold of
even him finally and he begins to wince and squirm. His wand hand droops and he looks
questioningly at Rabastan, as though to ask if this really has to be done.
“They don’t know anything,” Barty mouths.
“For Regulus?” Rabastan asks. He knows, deep inside, that Regulus might not have
wanted this. But he isn’t the only casualty in this war.
Barty confirms this a moment later as his hand stills and his shaking subsides and calms
into resolve. “For everyone.”
Rabastan had always thought that if he could bring one person back from the dead it
would be Regulus. But as he stands before the Wizengamot he thinks that perhaps it is
better that Regulus did not live to suffer this humiliation. That does not make missing
him any easier.
Regulus was Rabastan’s best friend.