The Contract

Chapter 15

Rabastan was so bloody grateful he'd become a little stronger over the past two months, between the potions, the books, the exercise he was beginning to do - just a few push ups while he was able - and with his mind in a better shape he was coherent more frequently and able to keep his body in a little better shape than what had been the norm for the past decade. He probably wouldn't be able to beat even Harry at an arm wrestling contest, but for him, who had lain on his bed unable and unwilling to move...for the past decade it was good.

"I um...bought you a throw, its hand knitted but it has a warming charm in it, its also stitched with little runes, it isn't active or anything like that but I thought you'd like it." Harry said, "It's at the bottom of the box, I bought it next day delivery so I could bring it today." It was his first time using Owl Order at Hogwarts, but he wanted to get Rabastan something he'd like. Something useful, something that would help him. knowing how cold it was, when he'd seen it he'd known immediately that this was something to buy.

Rabastan didn't waste any time in pulling out the green throw, it was quite big, he wasn't sure how his hands hadn't brushed against it when he went for the chocolates. He did smile when he saw the colour, the stitching of the runes was even done in silver. Almost as if it had been made for him specially or by a fellow Slytherin. He wrapped it around his brothers shoulders the heat emanating from it was very welcoming, and it wasn't even around him. He would have even given it to his brother if there was even a chance he'd be allowed it. Unfortunately, the guards, just to be assholes, would take it from him. The only reason he got to keep his stuff, is because they were Betrothal gifts, and if they interfered they could face losing their jobs. They'd be too worried that his father would find out about it.
Regardless of how much of a disgrace the Lestrange name was...his father still held a lot of clout within the Ministry. Not as much as Dumbledore used to have, which prevented any real progress for those on the dark side. Maybe now that would all change, depending on who became the new head of the wizengamot and allowed the passing of laws.

"Thank you," Rabastan said, yet again, huddling impossibly closer to his brother, as all he did was give little noises of distress and confusion a little bit of consternation in his voice. Despite his general grumbling and misgivings, he did harbour a slight sadness that the blanket - no matter how much care went into maintaining it - would end up quite filthy just like him. Just like them. Which in the beginning had been utterly intolerable. He'd never been dirty a day in his life, another indignity he had been forced to endure.

Harry just gave a small smile before it fell away, he sort of got it really, relying on an eleven-year-old kid for anything was...slightly demeaning. Especially if you had spent the past decade hating said kid - which he was even if he didn't feel like one - blaming him for something he didn't have a part in. He rather hoped that Rabastan had changed his tune. "Do you still blame me for what happened that night?" he asked, 'blame me for your incarcerated status' went unsaid but most certainly heard. He wasn't sure if Rabastan had ever blamed him for it, but he'd rather clear the air and instead of allowing it to fester.

"No," Rabastan sighed, sounding extremely grudging now, damn the fact they'd sworn to be truthful with each other. "I never really did," which was true enough, he hadn't really believed that a one-year-old baby could possibly be responsible for the destruction of his Lord. He was pretty sure now it had something to do with some clause in the Slytherin line, that prevented heirs from killing one another. Or at the very least, attempts being grievously punished. Salazar Slytherin was cunning after all, and had the smartest friend around - Rowena Ravenclaw - they could have easily came up with something that would hold generation after generation.

Rodolphus groaned, "'o th' ell are you?" he managed to slur out, deeply confused as he begun to properly come around.
Rabastan smothered his amusement, he only wished he could see Rodolphus' face when he learned everything there was to know.