New Beginnings

Chapter 43

A lot. A lot could go wrong.

Lucius may love Narcissa, but why did he have to marry into the Black family, the notoriously insane family. Of course this was before Narcissa's sister had married into the Lestrange, an also insane (not on the same level as the Blacks, but not the sanest of people) family, who also adopted a Crouch into the fold and the Crouch's weren't horrible, but still. Said Crouch had than married Severus and suddenly Lucius had a family of people who gave him constant headaches. Maybe he should've married a Greengrass, though Abaraxus would've had a heart attack (now that Lucius thought about it, he should've, just so dear old dad died.)

It started a day after Draco, Severus, Barty and Harry had arrived.

During the night, Harry had wondered into the gardens after a nightmare (thankfully not about the weird, tiled corridor, he hadn't had those in a while and they'd never been overly important to him anyway) and ended up sitting in the same gazebo as earlier. Arms pillowing his head as he tried to shake the images out of his brain.

Harry hadn't reacted to the sound of padding feet, even when there'd been a brief pause and they'd gotten steadily louder. The next moment he'd felt a hand brush through his hair, chasing away the headache he hadn't realised he'd had until the ache had gone.

One eye cracked open to glance up at the person, "Rabastan?" 

"Hey kid." 

The man had sat next to Harry, keeping up the rhythm he'd created and thankfully not asking any questions. Rabastan had seemed to understand that Harry probably wouldn't have talked anyway, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes with a sigh, prompting Harry to close his eye.

They didn't speak for a while, simply existing peacefully. Of course their silence didn't last, it never lasted, but this time it wasn't someone who interrupted them but sunrise. Though no-one would be up, it meant they would be soon and they were nosy people.

"We should go inside." Rabastan murmured.

Harry hummed in reply, "we should."

The teen almost whined when the hand left his hair, Rabastan deciding to stretch instead. Instead Harry sat up, running his eyes tiredly.

"Nightmare?"

There was a pause before Harry nodded, deciding there no point in lying, "you?"

"Yeah." Rabastan ran a hand through his hair with a soft huff. "About fourteen years in Azkaban and the first nightmare I have is of dear old dad dying." 

Harry frowned at Rabastan's bitter tone, knowing it was the same he used when talking about the Durselys, "what happened?"

"He was with Grindelwald, a true fanatic, after Dumbledore offed the guy no mercy was spared. One house invasion later and he was sprawled across the atrium of our manor." 

"You don't sound very grief-stricken. " Harry pointed out, repressing a snort because he wasn't sure whether Rabastan would curse him or not. There wasn't anything particularly hilarious, but the way Rabastan spoke made it sound funny.

"I'm not. Got what was coming to him." Rabastan said shortly. "From what I've heard you weren't particularly fond of your muggle family either."