Rabbit: April 1970
Title: Rabbit
Chapter Number/Title: April 1970: Thunder (38/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2236
Workshop?: Comments and suggestions most welcome!
April 1-2, 1970
Thunder
Ever since the first official meeting of the Blackest Night Dementors (he still hated that name) Investigatory Club, Rabastan had been trying to figure out a way to get Sirius to be able to join. The obstacles in his path, though, were significant. He could not break his oath to Darren and Evan, to not discuss the Club with non-members, and they would not allow Sirius to be a member without his father present.
Rabastan tried to work around the second obstacle first. It was true enough that the Blacks never sent anyone to the occasional meetings, and that Darren, Investigator-in-Chief, had opposed the idea of inviting Sirius to sleep over on a meeting night. But, Rabastan reminded himself, Darren wasn’t actually in charge. Their fathers were.
And so, the next time Uncle Liam had come around for tea, Rabastan had worked up all the courage he could muster and approached him about it.
Uncle Liam humored the boy well, and stepped aside into one of the private parlors. “What is it, Rabbit?”
Rabbit hesitated, unsure whether childlike innocence or poised maturity would convince his uncle (first cousin once removed, actually) best. He went with the former. “Um, Uncle Liam… can I ask you something without you telling Darren?”
Liam nodded warily.
“At our sleepovers… the big ones? It’s always me and Evan and Darren. And they’re great. I really like playing with Darren. And with Evan. But… I’m sure you know Darren and Evan are best mates, almost like brothers.”
Nod.
“Well, we all get along a lot better when it’s only two or when it’s all four of us. Darren, Evan, me, and Sirius. I just thought… I know the Blacks don’t come, but would it be an awful inconvenience? I don’t want to invite someone else to your home-I know it’s rude. But it would mean a lot to me.”
Liam grimaced. “Have you spoken to your father about this?”
Rabastan shook his head. “They’ve been at your house, so I thought…”
“Understood.” The man sighed. “Let’s talk to your father about this.”
Rabastan’s heart sank. He had already gathered all the courage he had for Uncle Liam; he did not have enough for his own father. But before he could object, Liam was calling, “Teddy! Over here!”
Theodore Lestrange was, in no time, in the room. Rabastan’s eyes fell and began to trace the scrolls of the carpet.
The one saving grace was that Liam took the burden of talking. “Your son here was hoping-for social reasons-to include Sirius Black next time there’s a sleepover at my house.”
“Out of the question.”
Rabastan looked up now, shocked at how curt the answer had come. “What? But Father-”
His father looked down with a stony face. Rabastan cut off his words, waiting for a cue to speak. It did not come. “You are welcome to have your friends over however you please, as long as your mother permits. And I know she does, frequently. But these gatherings… they are not for you, and they are not for fun. We adults have business, and you get to play while we attend to it. Is that clear?”
Rabastan nodded slowly. He did not voice his objection, but his father could see it in his eyes.
“You think you trust Sirius?”
“Yes.”
“With everything? Your success? Your secrets? Your life?”
“Yes.”
Theodore sighed. “You’re young, yet. But perhaps, in time, things will change. And when you are an adult yourself, and have business of your own, you may of course include Sirius Black, and anyone else whom you trust.”
His father, like always, made even the worst things sound reasonable and good. Rabastan nodded again, this time in earnest. “Yes, Father. That-that makes sense.”
“Until then-I know you won’t understand this, but you must trust me: do not bring this up with him.”
Rabastan’s eyebrows knit in frustration. “At all? Not even-”
“At all.” Theodore spoke with finality, but Liam interjected a clarification: “His father was invited, Rabbit, and he declined. You must respect a father’s wishes.”
“Always,” Rabastan whispered. “I understand. I wouldn’t want to come between Sirius and his family.”
Liam reached out and tousled the boy’s hair. “Good lad.”
“Thank you, Mr. Avery. I won’t say a thing about it to him. I swear.” He banished the childlike wide eyes and deferential posture. He stood straight and tall as he could, his head high, his eyes meeting his father’s. “You can trust me, Father.”
***
For the rest of the night, Rabastan considered how to keep his word while not hiding too many secrets from Sirius. And then he remembered their curious conversation in the treetops. Sirius had mentioned the meeting between their fathers, but he had couched it in terms of secrets. Rabastan wanted to be able to trust Sirius. Could he, though?
The next day, when Sirius arrived, Rabastan suggested they go flying. There was nothing like flying to make all worries seem meaningless-to let go of cares and concerns and questions of trust and secrets. They geared up, hopped on their brooms, and flew out onto the moors.
The air whipped around them as they raced, faster and faster, testing their speed and agility. Sirius went in for a loop and coasted down with arms in the air and laughing. Rabastan grinned. Sure, Sirius could be a handful, get into fights, and drag him into dangerous situations, but there were also these moments, pure and joyful, that he wouldn’t trade for the world.
Unfortunately, the weather decided they’d had enough of pure and joyful. Before they could fly all the way back to the manor house, lightning crashed. Rabastan immediately turned his broom in for a landing, and Sirius reluctantly followed suit. They headed for lower ground, and found a safe-enough-looking ditch.
“Wish I had a wand to keep us dry,” Rabastan muttered. But wet was better than dead.
Sirius shrugged. “Not too bad. Should we walk home?”
“Not yet. Best way’s over higher ground-but once the storm passes, it’ll be fine.”
“Well, all right. What should we do, in this muddy ditch?”
“Actually…” Rabastan cleared his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
He would keep his word. Still, while he had promised not to divulge any information, Rabastan had said nothing to Darren or Evan or Father or Mr. Avery about collecting information. He was, after all, a Blackest Night Investigator.
It would be an uncomfortable conversation, but it would have to happen.
Sirius’s eyebrow arched. “Go on.”
“Last month… when you came over, you mentioned that my father went to your house?”
“Hmn,” Sirius grunted. His feet and fingers began to fidget, restless for activity. “Yeah, talked about Minister Buttface or whatever, you know, boring father stuff.”
The rain fell into Rabastan’s eyes. He blinked it away, but he dared not wipe his eyes or slick the water out of his hair, lest he appear nervous or insincere. “Do you remember any of it?”
Sirius scuffed his feet into the softening earth. He shrugged. “I mean, if I had to remember or die, maybe, but it wasn’t as interesting as I thought it would be, and then they Silenced it, so…”
“Your father said no.”
That got Sirius’s attention. His grey eyes met Rabastan’s blue. “How’d you know?”
Rabastan hesitated, unsure how to answer that question. “I overheard it. Father was disappointed.”
“He was?”
“Yeah. And… I was too.”
Sirius leaned forward. “You know what they’re doing?”
Rabastan shook his head. “Not exactly. I just… if they had business together, we’d get to do more together. You know? Father’s best mates with Mr. Avery, so I’m always being dragged to Darren’s house…” He skirted the topic, making sure he didn’t mention the sleepovers or secret meetings in any way. “But I guess I don’t even know what the business was. I thought you might have heard more. Before they Silenced it, or after. Or maybe your father said something later?”
Sirius bit hard, swallowing the bitter taste that came to his tongue. There was no good way to tell your best friend that his father’s “business” was no less than treason. What would Rabbit think? Would he be upset? Would he think Sirius a liar? Would he go to his father about it? “I wasn’t supposed to hear anything,” Sirius started.
“I know.” Noticing Sirius’s hesitation, Rabastan crossed his heart with his pinkie in an oath. “I won’t tell anyone what you tell me. Curse my heart and hope to die.”
Thinking back, Sirius realized he did not, in fact, remember any actual details about what the Lestrange had asked his father to do. He only remembered his parents’ reactions. And as much as he trusted his friend, the words spoken in that parlor were not meant to get back to any Lestrange. Hadn’t they called Sirius’s friendship with Rabastan a problem? “Something dangerous. It sounded almost like-” He shut his mouth and shrugged it off. “You’re going to think I’m a liar.”
Rabastan shook his head. “I wouldn’t.”
Sirius looked around for eavesdroppers, though of course, out here in the rainy moors, they were alone. Even so, he inched closer to Rabastan. “Well, ‘snot what they said exactly, but it sounds like a big change. A new leader.”
Rabastan’s eyes grew wide-not with surprise, as Sirius expected, but with excitement. “Who wouldn’t want a new Minister?” he whispered.
“I don’t know, Rabbit. It didn’t sound like a normal election. It sounded almost…” Sirius hesitated again. “Bigger than that,” he concluded, questioning whether it had been treason. After all, he hadn’t heard everything. “Like, Grindelwald big.”
Rabastan’s mouth now formed an ‘o’ to match his eyes. “Whoa.” He blinked and furrowed his brow. “But your father said no. He doesn’t approve.”
“Look, it--I don’t know what exactly it is, but it didn’t sound good.” Sirius shot back quickly. “And I get that your father’s working on it, and Darren’s too--” that also prickled in Sirius an unpleasant feeling. Jealousy? “But if my father said no, I’m sure he had a good reason.”
He then squarely turned his gaze onto Rabastan, wiping some rain-soaked locks out of the way. “But it sounds like you know something about what’s going on--or at least, you and Darren are there when they meet. So, I told you my side, what’s yours? You must’ve picked up something if you’ve all been meeting.”
“I didn’t say Mr. Avery was part of it, or they’ve been meeting,” Rabastan hedged, though it was laughable to imagine that his father would do anything without Uncle Liam. “I don’t even know what it is: you know my father doesn’t share a lick of anything with me.”
“Technically, my father didn’t share any of it with me either,” Sirius pointed out.
“Yeah, but you’re an expert investigator.” It wasn’t the full truth, but it’s not like Darren’s stupid club had had actually figured anything out that Rabastan didn’t already know. He considered the photograph, but it didn’t count as the kind of real information Sirius wanted from him. Lightning flashed again, and-one-Cornish-piskie-two-Cornish-piskie-a rumble of thunder followed behind. “If I’d known about some Grindelwald-sized plot to do… whatever it is, I’d’ve told you already. I only heard yesterday about your father, and I’m telling you now.”
Sirius looked skeptical at first, but finally he relented. It was true--of the two, Sirius had always been nosier. The lightning caught his attention. “I’m not sure it’ll clear up,” he said, completely changing the topic. “Maybe we should just run for it?”
“Soon.” Rabastan chewed his cheek, ruminating on Sirius’s quick defense earlier. “You know I didn’t-I mean, I’m sure your father has his reasons. Maybe the timing or risk... “ Rabastan could understand that. He regularly disagreed with Sirius on timing and risk. “But my father wouldn’t do something bad.”
Sirius considered the claim.
“My family’s not bad,” Rabastan said with firmer conviction.
“Rotting Muggles in your dungeons disagree,” Sirius offered with a widening grin.
Rabastan laughed, glad the tension had broken. “I wonder what they’re doing, though,” he speculated, careful to avoid asking anything more of Sirius. “We could try to find out, together. Look for clues.”
“Yeah? All right. Not like we can fly out here anymore.”
Lightning again. One-Cornish-piskie-two-Cornish-piskie-three-Cornish-piskie-four- and thunder. “Storm’s moving,” Rabastan noted. “It should be safe now.”
The boys pushed themselves out of the mud, which now covered the backs of their tunics and the bottoms of their brooms.
“Hey, Sirius?” Rabastan stood still in the rain, a last concern niggling his mind.
“Yeah?”
“Promise we’ll stay friends?”
Sirius looked at Rabastan like he’d grown three heads. “Duh.”
“I mean, even if our fathers disagree… if my father’s plan fails and he gets in trouble, or if it works and your father’s upset… We’ll still be friends.”
“Course.” Sirius nodded. “I’ll need a trusty sidekick when I become a great explorer like Uncle Alphard.” Flashing a grin, he raced to the top of the slope and held a hand over his broom. “Up!”
Rabastan hurried after him, shouting, “I’m not your sidekick!” But the protest was unheard, because Sirius was already racing back to shelter, Rabastan following his lead.
Chapter Number/Title: April 1970: Thunder (38/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2236
Workshop?: Comments and suggestions most welcome!
April 1-2, 1970
Thunder
Ever since the first official meeting of the Blackest Night Dementors (he still hated that name) Investigatory Club, Rabastan had been trying to figure out a way to get Sirius to be able to join. The obstacles in his path, though, were significant. He could not break his oath to Darren and Evan, to not discuss the Club with non-members, and they would not allow Sirius to be a member without his father present.
Rabastan tried to work around the second obstacle first. It was true enough that the Blacks never sent anyone to the occasional meetings, and that Darren, Investigator-in-Chief, had opposed the idea of inviting Sirius to sleep over on a meeting night. But, Rabastan reminded himself, Darren wasn’t actually in charge. Their fathers were.
And so, the next time Uncle Liam had come around for tea, Rabastan had worked up all the courage he could muster and approached him about it.
Uncle Liam humored the boy well, and stepped aside into one of the private parlors. “What is it, Rabbit?”
Rabbit hesitated, unsure whether childlike innocence or poised maturity would convince his uncle (first cousin once removed, actually) best. He went with the former. “Um, Uncle Liam… can I ask you something without you telling Darren?”
Liam nodded warily.
“At our sleepovers… the big ones? It’s always me and Evan and Darren. And they’re great. I really like playing with Darren. And with Evan. But… I’m sure you know Darren and Evan are best mates, almost like brothers.”
Nod.
“Well, we all get along a lot better when it’s only two or when it’s all four of us. Darren, Evan, me, and Sirius. I just thought… I know the Blacks don’t come, but would it be an awful inconvenience? I don’t want to invite someone else to your home-I know it’s rude. But it would mean a lot to me.”
Liam grimaced. “Have you spoken to your father about this?”
Rabastan shook his head. “They’ve been at your house, so I thought…”
“Understood.” The man sighed. “Let’s talk to your father about this.”
Rabastan’s heart sank. He had already gathered all the courage he had for Uncle Liam; he did not have enough for his own father. But before he could object, Liam was calling, “Teddy! Over here!”
Theodore Lestrange was, in no time, in the room. Rabastan’s eyes fell and began to trace the scrolls of the carpet.
The one saving grace was that Liam took the burden of talking. “Your son here was hoping-for social reasons-to include Sirius Black next time there’s a sleepover at my house.”
“Out of the question.”
Rabastan looked up now, shocked at how curt the answer had come. “What? But Father-”
His father looked down with a stony face. Rabastan cut off his words, waiting for a cue to speak. It did not come. “You are welcome to have your friends over however you please, as long as your mother permits. And I know she does, frequently. But these gatherings… they are not for you, and they are not for fun. We adults have business, and you get to play while we attend to it. Is that clear?”
Rabastan nodded slowly. He did not voice his objection, but his father could see it in his eyes.
“You think you trust Sirius?”
“Yes.”
“With everything? Your success? Your secrets? Your life?”
“Yes.”
Theodore sighed. “You’re young, yet. But perhaps, in time, things will change. And when you are an adult yourself, and have business of your own, you may of course include Sirius Black, and anyone else whom you trust.”
His father, like always, made even the worst things sound reasonable and good. Rabastan nodded again, this time in earnest. “Yes, Father. That-that makes sense.”
“Until then-I know you won’t understand this, but you must trust me: do not bring this up with him.”
Rabastan’s eyebrows knit in frustration. “At all? Not even-”
“At all.” Theodore spoke with finality, but Liam interjected a clarification: “His father was invited, Rabbit, and he declined. You must respect a father’s wishes.”
“Always,” Rabastan whispered. “I understand. I wouldn’t want to come between Sirius and his family.”
Liam reached out and tousled the boy’s hair. “Good lad.”
“Thank you, Mr. Avery. I won’t say a thing about it to him. I swear.” He banished the childlike wide eyes and deferential posture. He stood straight and tall as he could, his head high, his eyes meeting his father’s. “You can trust me, Father.”
***
For the rest of the night, Rabastan considered how to keep his word while not hiding too many secrets from Sirius. And then he remembered their curious conversation in the treetops. Sirius had mentioned the meeting between their fathers, but he had couched it in terms of secrets. Rabastan wanted to be able to trust Sirius. Could he, though?
The next day, when Sirius arrived, Rabastan suggested they go flying. There was nothing like flying to make all worries seem meaningless-to let go of cares and concerns and questions of trust and secrets. They geared up, hopped on their brooms, and flew out onto the moors.
The air whipped around them as they raced, faster and faster, testing their speed and agility. Sirius went in for a loop and coasted down with arms in the air and laughing. Rabastan grinned. Sure, Sirius could be a handful, get into fights, and drag him into dangerous situations, but there were also these moments, pure and joyful, that he wouldn’t trade for the world.
Unfortunately, the weather decided they’d had enough of pure and joyful. Before they could fly all the way back to the manor house, lightning crashed. Rabastan immediately turned his broom in for a landing, and Sirius reluctantly followed suit. They headed for lower ground, and found a safe-enough-looking ditch.
“Wish I had a wand to keep us dry,” Rabastan muttered. But wet was better than dead.
Sirius shrugged. “Not too bad. Should we walk home?”
“Not yet. Best way’s over higher ground-but once the storm passes, it’ll be fine.”
“Well, all right. What should we do, in this muddy ditch?”
“Actually…” Rabastan cleared his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
He would keep his word. Still, while he had promised not to divulge any information, Rabastan had said nothing to Darren or Evan or Father or Mr. Avery about collecting information. He was, after all, a Blackest Night Investigator.
It would be an uncomfortable conversation, but it would have to happen.
Sirius’s eyebrow arched. “Go on.”
“Last month… when you came over, you mentioned that my father went to your house?”
“Hmn,” Sirius grunted. His feet and fingers began to fidget, restless for activity. “Yeah, talked about Minister Buttface or whatever, you know, boring father stuff.”
The rain fell into Rabastan’s eyes. He blinked it away, but he dared not wipe his eyes or slick the water out of his hair, lest he appear nervous or insincere. “Do you remember any of it?”
Sirius scuffed his feet into the softening earth. He shrugged. “I mean, if I had to remember or die, maybe, but it wasn’t as interesting as I thought it would be, and then they Silenced it, so…”
“Your father said no.”
That got Sirius’s attention. His grey eyes met Rabastan’s blue. “How’d you know?”
Rabastan hesitated, unsure how to answer that question. “I overheard it. Father was disappointed.”
“He was?”
“Yeah. And… I was too.”
Sirius leaned forward. “You know what they’re doing?”
Rabastan shook his head. “Not exactly. I just… if they had business together, we’d get to do more together. You know? Father’s best mates with Mr. Avery, so I’m always being dragged to Darren’s house…” He skirted the topic, making sure he didn’t mention the sleepovers or secret meetings in any way. “But I guess I don’t even know what the business was. I thought you might have heard more. Before they Silenced it, or after. Or maybe your father said something later?”
Sirius bit hard, swallowing the bitter taste that came to his tongue. There was no good way to tell your best friend that his father’s “business” was no less than treason. What would Rabbit think? Would he be upset? Would he think Sirius a liar? Would he go to his father about it? “I wasn’t supposed to hear anything,” Sirius started.
“I know.” Noticing Sirius’s hesitation, Rabastan crossed his heart with his pinkie in an oath. “I won’t tell anyone what you tell me. Curse my heart and hope to die.”
Thinking back, Sirius realized he did not, in fact, remember any actual details about what the Lestrange had asked his father to do. He only remembered his parents’ reactions. And as much as he trusted his friend, the words spoken in that parlor were not meant to get back to any Lestrange. Hadn’t they called Sirius’s friendship with Rabastan a problem? “Something dangerous. It sounded almost like-” He shut his mouth and shrugged it off. “You’re going to think I’m a liar.”
Rabastan shook his head. “I wouldn’t.”
Sirius looked around for eavesdroppers, though of course, out here in the rainy moors, they were alone. Even so, he inched closer to Rabastan. “Well, ‘snot what they said exactly, but it sounds like a big change. A new leader.”
Rabastan’s eyes grew wide-not with surprise, as Sirius expected, but with excitement. “Who wouldn’t want a new Minister?” he whispered.
“I don’t know, Rabbit. It didn’t sound like a normal election. It sounded almost…” Sirius hesitated again. “Bigger than that,” he concluded, questioning whether it had been treason. After all, he hadn’t heard everything. “Like, Grindelwald big.”
Rabastan’s mouth now formed an ‘o’ to match his eyes. “Whoa.” He blinked and furrowed his brow. “But your father said no. He doesn’t approve.”
“Look, it--I don’t know what exactly it is, but it didn’t sound good.” Sirius shot back quickly. “And I get that your father’s working on it, and Darren’s too--” that also prickled in Sirius an unpleasant feeling. Jealousy? “But if my father said no, I’m sure he had a good reason.”
He then squarely turned his gaze onto Rabastan, wiping some rain-soaked locks out of the way. “But it sounds like you know something about what’s going on--or at least, you and Darren are there when they meet. So, I told you my side, what’s yours? You must’ve picked up something if you’ve all been meeting.”
“I didn’t say Mr. Avery was part of it, or they’ve been meeting,” Rabastan hedged, though it was laughable to imagine that his father would do anything without Uncle Liam. “I don’t even know what it is: you know my father doesn’t share a lick of anything with me.”
“Technically, my father didn’t share any of it with me either,” Sirius pointed out.
“Yeah, but you’re an expert investigator.” It wasn’t the full truth, but it’s not like Darren’s stupid club had had actually figured anything out that Rabastan didn’t already know. He considered the photograph, but it didn’t count as the kind of real information Sirius wanted from him. Lightning flashed again, and-one-Cornish-piskie-two-Cornish-piskie-a rumble of thunder followed behind. “If I’d known about some Grindelwald-sized plot to do… whatever it is, I’d’ve told you already. I only heard yesterday about your father, and I’m telling you now.”
Sirius looked skeptical at first, but finally he relented. It was true--of the two, Sirius had always been nosier. The lightning caught his attention. “I’m not sure it’ll clear up,” he said, completely changing the topic. “Maybe we should just run for it?”
“Soon.” Rabastan chewed his cheek, ruminating on Sirius’s quick defense earlier. “You know I didn’t-I mean, I’m sure your father has his reasons. Maybe the timing or risk... “ Rabastan could understand that. He regularly disagreed with Sirius on timing and risk. “But my father wouldn’t do something bad.”
Sirius considered the claim.
“My family’s not bad,” Rabastan said with firmer conviction.
“Rotting Muggles in your dungeons disagree,” Sirius offered with a widening grin.
Rabastan laughed, glad the tension had broken. “I wonder what they’re doing, though,” he speculated, careful to avoid asking anything more of Sirius. “We could try to find out, together. Look for clues.”
“Yeah? All right. Not like we can fly out here anymore.”
Lightning again. One-Cornish-piskie-two-Cornish-piskie-three-Cornish-piskie-four- and thunder. “Storm’s moving,” Rabastan noted. “It should be safe now.”
The boys pushed themselves out of the mud, which now covered the backs of their tunics and the bottoms of their brooms.
“Hey, Sirius?” Rabastan stood still in the rain, a last concern niggling his mind.
“Yeah?”
“Promise we’ll stay friends?”
Sirius looked at Rabastan like he’d grown three heads. “Duh.”
“I mean, even if our fathers disagree… if my father’s plan fails and he gets in trouble, or if it works and your father’s upset… We’ll still be friends.”
“Course.” Sirius nodded. “I’ll need a trusty sidekick when I become a great explorer like Uncle Alphard.” Flashing a grin, he raced to the top of the slope and held a hand over his broom. “Up!”
Rabastan hurried after him, shouting, “I’m not your sidekick!” But the protest was unheard, because Sirius was already racing back to shelter, Rabastan following his lead.