The Contract

Chapter 107

"Whiskey?" Barty offered Rabastan, and the Dark Lord definitely had the best of drinks to serve anyone that comes by. Which was actually quite often, brazenly doing business despite the presses interest in him. If the press managed to get wind of those coming in and out of the manor? Bad news. To be fair they weren't openly or slyly doing anything wrong, but it would be clear to a lot of people that Lord Slytherin was making a lot of political moves.

Rabastan glanced at Barty, wondering if he was kidding, but one look confirmed that he mot definitely was not. If anything, Barty poured them both a drink, before ambling over, telling him what year it was. That Rabastan couldn't resist, it was a very rare bottle. Accepting the glass, "How are you doing?" rubbing his temples, wondering if his body would forgive him for getting pissed again. Vowing that this would be his only one. He absolutely refused to go before Dorea Potter-Black imbibed. It didn't matter what drink was on offer.

Barty swallowed, "How am I doing? How am I doing?" he muttered repeating himself, "I find myself feeling obsolete, I don't know what my position is anymore. A brief time in Azkaban then controlled by the Imperius for a cause that...for a cause that's s rapidly changing." Barty confessed, clenching his fists, the urge to lash out bitterly against everything was strong. So completely lost, as he stared at Rabastan as if seeking some sort of wisdom to make everything alright again.

Rabastan swallowed, leaning forward, gripping Barty's shoulder strong enough to hurt. "I know, believe me, I understand fully." He and his brother did. "Hell, we felt that before we even left Azkaban."

"I mean we're suddenly to what? Get along with Muggle borns?" Barty asked shaking his head in stunned bewilderment.

Rabastan wanted to cringe, it was clear Barty hadn't had anyone at all to talk to about this. It certainly wasn't something he felt he could talk to the Dark Lord about. There wasn't anyone else he could trust to talk to and reveal information to. You had to be careful who you spoke to, you never knew what they'd do with the information to advance themselves. They were Slytherin's after all, and sometimes that cunning and desire to stand out and get ahead went before loyalty.

"Muggle borns when we've been trying to eliminate them for so long!" he stressed out.

"Has the Dark Lord not told you why?" Rabastan questioned, he knew, but that' only because he had Corvus and Harry - who were arguably the closet to the Dark Lord oddly enough - to tell him so. That had obviously been while he was in Azkaban. Which had been when most of the changes had begun, and the Dark Lord returned to sanity. Barty, it seemed had been floundering on his own. It looks as if maybe the Dark Lord had also let him down.

"Maybe," Barty said, flustering a bit, "I used to find it difficult to focus, even now it crops up sometimes. It's only happened once this month though, and only for a few minutes." He rushed to defend himself, lest Rabastan get it into his head to tell the Dark Lord in case he ended up in some sort of trouble. He knew that would be the only reason Rabastan would inform the Dark Lord.

Rabastan shook his head, raising his hand which had long since drifted from Barty's shoulder. "I know the feeling." It seemed that the Imperius and Dementors left the same mental scarring, at least he and Rodolphus had gotten the best of care. Barty most definitely hadn't, he wondered if he should mention the hospital or if Barty would get too offended?

Barty left out a breath, "Course you do," he sighed, sipping the drink, it was the only thing that got him through the day these days. He couldn't let it become a problem - although arguably it could be seen as one already - otherwise he really would be set aside entirely. That, that would drive what was left of his sanity away. "I just don't get what the hell happened..." he hadn't been around when the Dark Lord had attempted to go down the political road, nor did he hear much about any successes or failures he had. All he knew was what the Dark Lord had wanted when he joined up. Desperate for belonging, of family, of closeness that wasn't his mother...he'd joined.