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Chapter Text

Well Rabastan definitely knew why he was here.
For torturing Alice and Frank Longbottom into insanity. Not one of his brightest moments, but of that he was aware and he couldn’t change it at this point. But why was he here? In this cell? Someone obviously hated him. That wasn’t even a question.

Why by Merlin’s underwear was he in the cell between his sister in law and Sirius Black. He couldn’t bear the screaming matches anymore. Why, just why? He reached a point where he couldn’t care less if a Dementor would suck his soul out of his body, atleast he wouldn’t need to listen to those Merlin damned drama-queens anymore. Why was every single Black so dramatic? Was it a gene or the parenting?

If he just could get a different cell. A floor up or down. Like why was he here and not his brother. In the end it was his wife screaming. But well, this was probably the reason why they were not next to eachother. They probably feared they would plot their outbreak, but Rabastan suspected, they would rather kill eachother then agree on a sensible plan. Was Azkaban this full that they needed to put him on the same floor as them? There weren’t this many deatheater left to lock up after the war, were there?

»ATLEAST I WASNT DISINHERITED!«

»ATLEAST IM NOT A PSYCHOTIC BITCH!«

The same argument over and over again. And they were only in here since half a year. How was he supposed to live like this for the rest of his life. An impossible task.

And then it started, the screaming from the other cells. If one person screamed, everybody screamed. It was probably a side effect of the Dementors. He suspected, the fact that the Dementors didn’t bother him that much was caused by the constant torture of his ears, which he had to endure everyday.

»IM GOING TO KILL YOU ALL«

»LET ME OUT!«

»I WANT MY MUM!«

»I DIDNT DO ANYTHING!«

»SOMEONE HELP ME, PLEASE!«

The screams came from everywhere around him. He covered his ears with his hands, but this couldnt drown out the screams. It was so loud, every single person in this building seemed to be in agony. He couldn’t take it anymore.

»SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU!«

Next to him his sister in law started cackling. And when he said cackle, he meant it. She was laughing the most terrifying laugh he had ever heard. Maybe Black had a point, she was psychotic. But weren’t they all? Black was a mass murderer and he had also killed and tortured countless people during the war.

»Awww, is poor Rabastan finally breaking? Adorable. I’m sure your brother gave in way earlier.«

»Yeah Bella, tell him.« Black laughed, a similar laugh to his cousins, but less terrifying.

Black was lying on the ground in his cell, while Bella came slowly closer to the bars, separating their cells. She held onto the bars with her hands while looking at him. He was glad the bars where there, because they kept his brothers insane wife at a distance.

When he first was introduced to Bella, right after her engagement to Rodolphus had been announced, he thought she was a nice pureblood girl. He never had been so wrong. She was a pureblood, but nice? Bella probably didn’t even know what the word nice meant. As he got to know her he felt sorry for his brother and was just glad it wasn’t him who was to marry her.

»Do you need comfort? A soul too tender for Azkaban. You know, If you ever tell me to shut up again I’ll tell the dementors about how sweet your soul is and-«

Rabastan sighed, it wasn’t like she could do anything while they were in here. Only empty threats. »Just leave me be, Bella.«

Black laughed again. This damned Black laugh. »Ha, he’s feisty.«

Bella glared at her cousin. »I can’t believe you were the one to actually make your mother proud. Not Regulus, but you, the failure. Didn’t think you had it in you.«

He laughed again. How could they laugh in a place like this? »Yeah me neither. Truly a miracle. Who would have thought that I will make her prouder then Reggie did.«

»If you say a bad word about Regulus I will haunt you. He was better then you ever were.« The weak voice came out of a cellblock down the corridor. Rabastan knew who it belonged to. Barty Crouch Jr., locked up by his own father for the same crime as him. Poor boy, he didn’t take the situation well. Had nobody of his loved ones left. Normally he never talked, just sometimes he screamed for his mother. The comment Black made about his brother must have really hit him.

»I will talk about my brother anyway I want to.« Black yelled in the direction of Barty’s cell. »Then I will haunt you till you take you last breath.« Came the answer in Bartys scratchy voice. He really didn’t sound well. Rabastan only could imagine how he must feel like. Alone in a place that was designed to suck every bit of joy out of a person. Barty was still a kid after all.

Now it was Bella laughing again. Why did they need to laugh all the time. He for sure didn’t feel like laughing. »Well it probably won’t be long till your haunted then, little cousin. I wouldn’t bet on him living another year.« Rabastan looked at her with a blank expression on his face. How could she laugh about a dying and suffering kid, that probably can hear her talking like this. A kid she worked together with and who only ended up in Azkaban because she couldn’t handle the downfall of her beloved dark lord. He knew it was also his fault, but he also wasn’t the one laughing.

»What’s with the look on your face? I never heard that Azkaban can make people soft. Or maybe you always were weak.« She looked at him and grinned. From his other side Black looked at him bewildered. Why was it so surprising that he didn’t want a kid to die, that already lost everything? A kid he knew. It wasn’t like Barty was some random muggleborn kid, he was a pureblood for Merlin’s sake.

Rabastan lowered himself down the wall and leaned his head against the cool stones. He tried relieve his growing headache. When the cousins realised he didn’t intend to say more they started bickering again. Why couldn’t they all just shut up.

Chapter Text

When Rabastan woke up, he couldn’t comprehend what was happening right away. He saw the dark walls of Azkaban and felt the cold feelings the Dementors were spreading.

But for some reason someone was singing. How could someone be so fucked up to sing in here? And what the hell was this person singing. He knew he had heard this song somewhere some time ago, but he just couldn’t place it. What in Merlin’s name was happening?

»And here we go again, we know the start, we know the eeeend.

Masters of the SCEEEENE.«

Ofcourse this voice belonged to Black. Who else then a Black would be bold enough to sing in Azkaban. His voice was loud and clear, still Rabastan was sure that he didn’t get all the tones right. But the real question was, were did he even get the energy to sing from. He seemed to have lost it completely now.

»We've done it all before and now we're back to get some moreee.

You know what I MEANNN.«

No, Rabastan didn’t know what he meant. And what more did he want to get? Double lifetime? He looked to his right and saw Black leaning at the door of his cell. Normal people would stay away from the door to avoid the Dementors, but he didn’t seem to be in his right mind. He looked to his left, where Bella looked at her cousin and was grinning like an idiot, or more like someone who also lost their mind. Was this a Black family thing he was supposed to recognise? What by Merlin’s broken foot happened while he was asleep?

»VOULEZ-VOUS«

Black shouted the words out. And to Rabastans disbelief Bella said them too, way quieter but she actually said them. What the Fuck?! He was convinced. This had to be a Black family thing. It was french. Atleast it sounded french and even he knew that every Black was obligated to lern french. This couldn’t be anything else. Bella would never know a song if it were not a family thing.

»Take it now or leave it«

Now it was just Black again. Rabastan would very much like to leave it, like Black stated so friendly.

»Aha«

That was not Black, and neither was it Bella who screamed the short word. It was Barty. Yesterday he sounded like he was dying but now he had somehow regained his strength, just to waste it and sing a duet with Black who he wanted to haunt. Did someone fire all the Dementors while he slept? No, right outside his cell one of them was floating. Did Dementors fly or float? A good question for another time.

»Now is all we get« »Aha«

They were really singing a duet. What the hell? Was he still dreaming? He scratched over the back of his hand but nothing changed. So this was really happening. Or maybe he had hallucinations, that would be a reasonable explanation.

It also couldn’t be a family thing now. Barty had no way to know a Black family thing. Or maybe Regulus told him. He still couldn’t get his head around the fact Bella knew a Song. Like any song at all.

»Nothing promised, no REGREEETS«

Did Black really have no regrets? Somehow a sad fact. Rabastan also wouldn’t be sad about those twelve muggles, but he also had killed a pureblood. And he did not even mention his best friend yet. Black was truly messed up.

»Voulez-vous« Now they were both singing again. »Aha!« Batys part once more. He put his whole soul in to singing these three letters. Well, that showed that he still had his soul. A big achievement in their environment.

When they finished Black bursted out laughing and Bella was still grinning like a maniac. And from the other side of the cellblock he was able to hear Barty speaking to himself. »Merlin, I love ABBA.« What was ABBA? Was it a code word he didn’t understand? Maybe it stood for ,A Black Being Annoying‘. That would definitely fit.

»I never took you for the person to like muggle music Crouch.« Then Black turned to Bella who was still grinning »And neither you.“ Rabastan stared at them. Muggle music? He was completely stunned. He wasn’t surprised Black knew Muggle music, and he could also imagine how Barty got to know it. But Bella? The Bellatrix Lestrange? Less then an hour ago he would have bet his entire fortune on the fact, that Bellatrix Lestrange wouldn’t know a single peace of music and know he found out that she in fact knew some. Muggle music even. He was sure that his face showed great horror. His brother would have been shocked about the muggle part, but Rabastan was just in horror because he couldn’t get the image of Bella dancing and singing on a Party out of his head. And smiling, Bella was allowed to grin, but to smile? Never.

»Yeah, that’s because you know shit about me. And to make this clear, Black, just because I like your taste in music, it doesn’t mean I won’t haunt you.« Barty sounded annoyed which was a surprise because yesterday he sounded barely alive. Rabastan could only repeat himself: What the hell was happening?

»And I for my part don’t need to explain myself.« Bella sounded more then defensive.

»I also want to know what the fuck that was.« Rabastan looked at his sister in law who then said: »And I for sure don’t need to tell you.« Should he have expected it or be offended?

»Please Bella, I suddenly started to like you. Don’t make me regret it. You have the chance to become my third favourite cousin, don’t lose it.«

Black looked at her with - and Rabastan didn’t know how to describe it otherwise - big puppy eyes.

»How is this supposed to convince me? You only have three cousins. This wouldn’t be a change at all.«

Black grinned at Bella. »And this is where you are wrong. I infact have five cousins.« Bella stared at him and so did Rabastan. In his head he counted the Black sisters again, there where only three.

»Right now I would rank them with you in the fifth and last place, sorry Bella, but you always creeped me out. And now this might come as a surprise to you: Fourth place is Reggie who actually is also my cousin because our family is disgusting. Third place right now is Cissy, because she once gave me her dessert at a family gathering. Then ofcourse, Andy. She’s just perfect.«

Rabastan tried to remember the Black family tree, but he figured Azkaban had already messed with his head to much. »And my all time favourite:« Black paused dramatically and rounded off with a drum roll. Rabastan rolled his eyes at him. »Myself, ofcourse.« He grinned. Bella sighed and if Rabastan hadn’t known better he would say in defeat. But she was Bellatrix Lestrange, so she just sighed.

»I still despise you, but somehow you are less unbearable in here.«

»Awww Bella, you’ve got feelings.« Rabastan was sure Black had a death wish, but honestly who hadn’t after half a year of Azkaban? Bella glared at him, she looked ready to kill if it weren’t for the bars and Rabastans cell between them.

Bellas glare turned into a smile, an actual smile. Someone needed to get him out of here. Bella looked at Black again: »And Rita.« Now he was confused, what did Bella mean now? Black seemed just as confused as he was.

»What?«

»You wanted to know where I knew ABBA from you insufferable troll. And the answer is Rita.«

What the hell was happening now and why did Bella look so - so not bella-ish? Rabastan looked from Bella to Black, waiting to see what would happen next.

»Skeeter?« Barty screamed from his cell. »I knew she was cool!«

Chapter Text

»You wanted to know where I knew ABBA from you insufferable troll. And the answer is Rita.«

What the hell was happening now and why did Bella look so - so not bella-ish? Rabastan looked from Bella to Black, waiting to see what would happen next.

»Skeeter?« Barty screamed from his cell. »I knew she was cool!«

—

»No she is not. The only thing cool about her is her cold ass heart. She’s a backstabbing bitch and when I get out of here I will torture her until I hear her scream. She betrayed everything we stood for.« Now that was the Bella he was used to. But since when where Bella and Skeeter a “We”. And she called her Rita, even though she had so much hatred in her voice? Normally Bella would just call her a bitch. Thats what a normal, to some degrees sane Bella would say. Did he miss something? She and Skeeter must have been very good friends even though the idea of someone liking Bella seemed ridiculous.

»If you like ABBA it’s like a certificate of being cool, it’s the coolest band to ever walk on earth.« After this Bella stayed silent, hate still written all over her face. Rabastan just decided do ignore it, why would he care if his sister in law hated one random reporter? That’s right, there was no reason at all. Bella hated everyone. So hating Rita Skeeter was just something very normal for her. And if Rabastan was honest, most of the wizarding world hated Skeeter for her articles. Rabastan looked to his right, Bella was sitting in the corner of her cell. Her expression was now blank, unreadable.

After a moment of silence Black decided to talk again.

»Well that’s absolutely wrong. ABBA might be good, but nothing will ever be better then Queen.«

It went straight over Rabastans head why the heir to the house of Black compared a muggle band with the Queen of England. Elizabeth Windsor might be one of the most famous witches to ever live, but she had no connection to this ”ABBA” thing everyone but him seemed to know. »How could you say that?« Barty somehow sounded very offended. Was he an enemy to the crown? A revolutionist that wants to make the queen abdicate? Rabastan himself was thrilled to have a pureblood witch as their official head of state. Not many countries could say the same.

Black grinned. Why did he have to grin? Blacks are scary. »Because I’m right of course.« 

»I am absolutely going to haunt you for this. And for your hate speech against Regulus, who was a better person then you’ll be. No one talks bad about Reggie or ABBA!«

»No you are not.«

»Yes I am.«

»No!«

»Yes!«

»No!«

»Yes!«

Childish. They all are in a prison that was build to break a person. How could they have such childish debates. Rabastan decided that Barty would be excused from his accusation. He was actually a child. Well, at least from Rabastans point of view. But Black? He had no excuse at all. Maybe he had serious brain damage from all the screaming that went on in the house of Black. Rabastan decided that he would count it as an excuse, but a weak one. He spent enough time around Bella to know they were constantly screaming about everything. Annoying.

After this incident everything went back to norm for a while. At least as normal as it could be in a magical prison full of creatures that want to eat your soul. Do Dementors want to eat your soul? Or do they drink it? Can dementors even hear? Or an even better question, how are dementors alive if their only food source are souls? If this is true, they would only get to eat like once in a decade.

Rabastan looked at the dementor guard infront of his cell and tried to imagine how it would look while drinking a red wine with a fruity bouquet. He failed miserably. How would a dementor even hold a wine glass? Could a dementor get drunk if he… drank the soul of someone with alcohol in their system. Rabastan was sure a drunk dementor would be terrifying.

The distant sound of footsteps interrupted his thinking process. It was a shame, now he would never know how the dementor would hold his wine glass.

When the sound of footsteps got louder he looked up. He saw a group of three, guided by a patronus manifested as a very evil looking owl. How was it possible that the owl looked evil? When they came closer Rabastan felt more happiness then all the happiness he felt in the last mince combined. Which actually was never, which made the situation way less impressive. That was also supported by the fact that the owl looked really, really malicious.

Rabastan knew the man they lead the trio through the hallway. He winced when he saw the man’s face. He hated his guts. If he had had the energy, maybe he would have tried to reach behind the bars and strangle him. But Rabastan did not have the amount of energy necessary for this. Barty Crouch Sr.. The man who send his own son to suffer or even die just to keep his reputation high.

Rabastan was amazed when he realised his thoughts had rhymed. Maybe he should have become a poet instead of a murderer. Now that he was thinking about it, it would have been the better option. Maybe he would have gotten famous for something that wasn’t torture. That would have been nice. Rabastan decided that in his next life he would become a poet, no matter what.

Crouch Sr. didn’t even look at him while walking past his cell and if Rabastan was honest he preferred it that way. The man was disgusting. He ignored every prisoner, no matter how loud some of the screamed when he walked past. He even was able to block out the countless insults Bella threw at him.

But suddenly he heard the rhythmic sounds of Crouch’s footsteps end. Rabastan was not able to see him anymore but he could imagine where he stopped.

»Hello Father.«

Bartys voice sounded way less enthusiastic then when he sang with Bella and Black a couple of weeks ago but he still had a spark of rebellion in him. That was what Rabastan wanted to be true, even if it was not. He also sounded weaker again.

»Who are you supposed to be?« Even though the words weren’t directed at him it broke Rabastans heart. The poor boy.

»It’s me, your son.« Rabastan couldn’t read Bartys tone of voice. Crouch’s next words stung even more.

»I have no son, that’s public knowledge.« He didn’t even wait for a reply, just started walking again.

Azkaban was unnaturally silent, it was if everything else had stopped and only concentrated on the poor boy. The boy who’s father had just told him he was never his son. Bartys dry sobs penetrated the silence. After some time his tears stopped and his crying turned into hysterical laughter.

Rabastan was afraid, the prison would break all of them sooner or later.

Chapter Text

Rabastan wasn’t sleeping well. He mentally made a list of reasons to determine the nature of his problem. Because why wouldn’t he? It’s not like he had parchment at hand in Azkaban. He had many ideas and every single one was very reasonable:

1. He currently was in Azkaban. A place not known for the sleep quality it provides. Or was it? Were there perhaps studies about this? Maybe he should write one. It might help future inmates.

2. It is Bella’s fault. It nearly always is Bella’s fault.

3. Depression. Rabastan came to the conclusion that point three couldn’t count as a stand-alone point because it probably was caused by point 1, 2, and 5.

4. Stress, but that was also Bella’s fault. And the Blacks, even though Black had been really quiet for the last few days. And everyone else's. Just not his. Maybe his fault for being a murderer, but that was not the main problem.

5. Dementors. They steal your happiness and make everything colder than it is supposed to be. Rabastan was always cold. Why were his prison clothes this thin? It was not like Azkaban was located in the Caribbean or Hawaii. Do prisoners in Azkaban often die because of a cold? It was possible.

6. There was a full moon coming up. Rabastan had no way of knowing what the current moon phase was, but he knew quite well that he never was able to sleep during a full moon, not even as a little child.

7. He was haunted by the screams of Alice and Frank Longbottom. Ok, that was rather unlikely. More like haunted by the manic laughter that Bella had let out when she tortured the two. Oh well, point seven might just be point two.

8. There was no bed. Why was there no bed? Rabastan knew that he was a murderer and did not really deserve a bed, but come on? There are also people in Azkaban who had only enchanted a tea kettle to fight Muggles. Don’t they deserve a bed? Maybe they have beds? Rabastan wouldn’t know. The only cells he could see were the ones of fellow Death Eaters.

9. Maybe he was getting old? Old people always had problems sleeping. But at what age does one count as old? After all, he was only 23.

10. All of the above. He really should start a research.

Rabastan opened his eyes. He had been awake for hours, tossing and turning in his cell. He stared at the blank stone walls, trying to use his imagination to finally figure out a solution for his problem. He could try to get someone outside of Azkaban to send him a sleeping potion, something for dreamless sleep. Though even if someone were to send him one, it probably wouldn’t make it past the securities. Did Azkaban have security besides the Dementors? When he, his brother, Bella, and poor Barty were brought in, many Aurors were present, but he couldn’t imagine any of them staying on the island. Afterwards, he hadn’t seen any of them, except when there were visitors, inspections, or new prisoners arriving. So a sleeping potion wasn’t an available option at the moment. What a shame.

He could try to make up fake scenarios like he used to when he was little. Rodolphus always made fun of him when he was daydreaming, but he honestly couldn’t have cared less. He always imagined how much happier he would have been just living in a forest all by himself, perhaps as a rogue or even a hermit. Living in nature and with nature. Having a philosophical and simple approach to life. Maybe he could have grown purple tulips and written poems about their growth. If he was honest, he still liked the idea, especially if it meant getting away from the people around him. Hermits only rely on themselves for survival. If he would have become a hermit, he wouldn’t have ended up in this situation. This is what you get for following your family’s values and your older brother. What a shame, really.

He would always prefer solitude from his sister-in-law's energy-draining presence. He had pleaded with his parents to not betroth Rodolphus to her, but they wouldn’t listen. He hadn’t done it for Rodolphus’ sake, but rather for his own. Any other pureblood girl would have been less… threatening and creepy. But he supposed they were a match, always loud, always screaming, and they also despised each other. A Merlin-made match, indeed.

If he would have become a hermit, he wouldn’t be here right now. He could just wander to a distant forest, enjoy nature with not a care in the world. A dream.

The only other prisoner still awake in the middle of the night interrupted his thought process. Well, maybe not the only other. The only one he could see. There might be more. After all, Azkaban was known to trap people inside their own heads. Was that what was happening to him? Was he trapped? Definitely. Somewhere in the middle of the North Sea, apparently. On a small island. In a weird triangle-like building. Okay, that was just Azkaban. He was trapped in Azkaban. And his head? Maybe.

The other prisoner was none other than Sirius Black. He had been staring out of the unbelievably small window for hours. Like he was trying to find something in the sky. Maybe a star? Could he be so in love with himself that he was looking at Sirius? Rabastan would not put it past him. Him and his ego. Still, he suspected that Black was looking for the moon. Why? He didn’t have a clue. But since he came to Azkaban, he was tracking the moon cycle on the wall. Maybe it was some obscure Black ritual? Or perhaps an obsession? Was Black a Selenophile, someone who is in love with the moon? Well, probably better than a family member. Another weird Black ritual.

Rabastan was really into thinking of new possible reasons for Black’s weird behavior.

He thought about Black being a werewolf. An idea, but not possible. He was in the cell next to him for about half a year. He would have noticed something. Maybe Black just wants to be a werewolf. That was more likely. But why would he want to be one? The only answer that Rabastan could think of was Black thinking werewolves are beautiful and him wanting to look like one. He always seemed to care about his looks. Rabastan himself was of the opinion that werewolves look hideous. But Black? He was probably more insane than Rabastan.

»I am so sorry, Moony.«

Rabastan did a double take. Who in Merlin’s name was Moony? Was Moony even a person?

»It’s all my fault.«

Black’s face was covered by his hands. His voice sounded weak. He looked… off. Something wasn’t right. Normally he only acted insane. Now he sounded truly broken.

»I killed them. It’s my fault. I should have trusted you.«

Well, that was new.

»I am so, so sorry. I know you hate me. You are alone because of me. I should have died, not them.«

Rabastan was confused. Nothing added up. He knew that Black was responsible for Lily and James Potter’s death. The same way Travers was responsible and locked up for the death of Marlene McKinnon, or Dolohov for the murder of the Prewett twins. But why was he so distraught? Yes, they were Black’s friends, but he sold them to Voldemort. He couldn’t have liked them that much, could he?

As Rabastan began to think about it, he realized he never saw Black at a Death Eater meeting. How could he have been so blind? Well, the answer was easy. He just never paid attention. He looked at Black. No matter how annoying the bastard was, that was fucked up. Did he help in their murder without being a Death Eater? Was it an accident?
Black was messed up. Didn’t he state he didn’t have any regrets? Like a few days ago? Does he have a split personality disorder? Rabastan had heard about a few wizards and witches that had those. Was Moony his other personality? Or an imaginary friend. Perhaps the Potter’s cat or something. He definitely was broken but that was just what Azkaban did. What it is supposed to do. It wasn’t strange that Black finally, completely cracked.

Suddenly, the idea of Black being a werewolf—Rabastan’s absurd theory—didn’t seem so stupid. He knew enough about the Dark Lord’s followers and their strange obsessions with curses, transformations, and power. He just had to look at his family. Especially Bella the creep. But this felt different. There was no certainty in Black’s words. Rabastan couldn’t explain it. No self-assuredness. Something that Rabastan thought Balck was incapable of. Just… desperation. Almost like a cry for forgiveness. Rabastan was extremely confused.

»I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wish I had trusted you, Moony. I… I really lov—«

He was cut off by a scream from somewhere even deeper in the prison. Rabastan shuddered. What was that? The scream did not sound human in any way. He wanted to get out. Away from all those psychos and sadists. Away from all the monsters locked up with him. He just wished he could talk to someone sane.

Rabastan tried to block out the thoughts. Tried to. But it wasn’t working. Not with the silence in the cells next to his. Not with Black's desperate voice filling the silence. What the fuck.

He should definitely add overthinking to his list because what the actual shit.