The Writer and the Death Eater | Rabastan Lestrange

Chapter Eight

 Rabastan Lestrange was enjoying his days spent with Tommy Olsson. Could this trip have gone in any better direction? This writer had to be one of the kindest men he gad ever met, or at least the man who had been kindest to him. He actually liked helping Tommy work on his book; he had never thought of himself as a writer, but perhaps he did a storytelling notion in him somewhere. It had worked for him in the past, so why not use it for something good for a change? 

 Bit by bit, Rabastan felt he was slowly unraveling the mystery of Thomas Olsson. Yes, he was a writer. Yes, he had been able to start that writing career when he was very young. He also had a family tree that Rabastan hadn't quite figured out yet. But there were plenty of little things, too: he was very shy, he was socially awkward, he didn't seem to have any friends who weren't family members. He was clearly very nervous and insecure where his works were concerned, and Rabastan realized that was why he rarely shared what he was writing with anyone, not because of any kind of arrogance. The more time he spent in Tommy's apartment, the more these things all became obvious. 

 Tommy's pace on the book was beginning to speed up a little bit, as if this writer's block issue he had was finally leaving him. He seemed in a better mood and far more concentrated on his work. Rabastan knew to stay silent while Tommy was typing; it seemed rude to distract him by starting up any kind of conversation, and he was obviously right. 

 But Rabastan was surprised when Tommy started up a conversation with a question that had nothing to do with the book. On one late afternoon, he said, "One of Gustav's games is tonight. It's against England, and the pitch they're playing in isn't too far north of here. Do you want to come with me?" 

 Rabastan raised his eyebrows. "To the World Cup? I don't think...well, my parents never encouraged any interest in quidditch, so I'm not too familiar with it." 

 "Oh, don't worry, it's quite easy. I'll tell you anything you need to know. I thought it might be nice for us to do something together that doesn't have anything to do with the book. You know, take a rest from it." 

 "Really? I-I suppose that would be nice." 

 "Great. We're going to have to get going, though. Can you apparate?" 

 Rabastan was going to say yes, but then he remembered. "Um...no. I don't...I don't have a wand." 

 He silently hoped Tommy wouldn't ask why. After a long moment of silence, he said, "Well, you'll just have to hold onto me, then. And if that doesn't work, we'll take a train or something. But we should probably get going." 

 Rabastan sighed with relief. Tommy had to be wondering why he didn't have a wand, but he didn't ask, which meant Rabastan didn't have to tell him about his past just yet. 

 He followed Tommy down the street and into an empty alleyway. Tommy pulled out his wand and said, "Take my arm." He waved it, and they were suddenly outside a quidditch pitch in what looked like the countryside. 

 "Oh. It's much colder here, isn't it?" Rabastan asked. 

 "It usually is. I'm used to it, though. Good thing you've got a coat and hat, isn't it?" 

 People were already entering the pitch and finding their seats. Tommy and Rabastan found two empty seats together on one of the bottom rows and sat down to wait for the game to start. 

 "Are any of your other relatives going to be here?" Rabastan asked. "I don't think I've actually met any of your family members yet." 

 "Oh, Mom and Magnus will probably be here. I don't know about Dad. He and Gustav don't really get along, and Gustav certainly doesn't get along with Rebecca." 

 "Hmm. Um, would you mind telling me a little about them? You've mentioned everyone before, but I can never quite figure out your family tree." 

 "Oh. Yes, I can understand that. Well, it was started by my father, I suppose," Tommy began. "His first wife Ingrid was my biological mother, but she died when I was a baby. My father wanted me to have a mother-and I don't think he could have raised a baby by himself, anyway-so he married again. Her name is Birgitta, but I call her Mom. When I was four, Gustav was born. I think Mom and Dad argued a lot, and then...Dad cheated on Mom. When she found out, that was the end of them. I was eight when they divorced." 

 "What was that like for you?" Rabastan didn't know anything about divorce. He couldn't think of one divorce that had happened in his family. 

 "I didn't get to see Gustav as often. He went to live with Mom, I stayed with Dad. The woman Dad cheated with stayed with us for a while. Her name is Amelie, and I liked her when she stayed with us. She had a daughter, my sister Hannah. She and Dad broke up when Hannah was a baby, though. It was just me and Dad for a while, but then he remarried again, to his current wife Rebecca. She's the mother of my youngest sister Annika. They call her Annie and she hates that. Mom remarried again when I was still a kid, to Magnus. He's great, and Gustav gets along with him much better than he gets along with Dad. Oh, and Mom and Magnus had Alice together." 

 "So...when you said Alice was your sister-" 

 "Well, I did sort of lie about that," Tommy admitted. "We're not technically related at all. She's still like a little sister, though. I guess I'm just lucky Mom and Magnus are such kind people. Oh, hold on. The game's starting. This'll be like your first real quidditch game, and I don't want you to miss it."