Together is a different matter

As soon as Winky appeared in the Black family house, meals began to be served in the small dining room, where the dining table and chairs were returned from the kitchen. When Arcturus, unaccustomed to it, protested, he was cut off by a single phrase from Kreacher – "Perhaps you'd like to sleep on a mattress in the pantry, master?" – and never argued again. Winky also served the latest issues of *The Prophet* there, either for breakfast or dinner, depending on when they were released. Rabastan was the first to grab the paper, having the habit of skimming at least the headlines before eating.

The news about the escape of the Death Eaters from Azkaban appeared in the morning edition. Rabastan nearly jumped out of his chair, his eyes locked on the lines, ignoring all questions. Only after reading the article to the end did he hand the paper to Arcturus. Breakfast was forgotten as both men anxiously read the article.

"...Three of the most dangerous criminals – Antonin Dolohov, Augustus Rookwood, and Joshua Travers – have escaped. They attempted to take George and Fred Weasley, imprisoned the day before for producing and selling products dangerous to public health, as hostages, but the twin brothers managed to escape and are now back in their cells..."

"Utter nonsense," Rabastan muttered when Arcturus read out a passage and looked at him questioningly. "Why would they drag two imprisoned idiots with them when they could have taken one of the guards hostage?"

"And there's more about the guards," Arcturus continued reading, "...the watch post was immobilized using a barbaric Muggle method..."

"That's Anthony for you." Lestrange smirked. "He was always great at throwing punches. He used to call it the Russian school of wand and fist, where, in extreme circumstances, you can manage without a wand."

"They seized the guards' wands and a set of keys, managed to bypass the gate security, and stole the only boat," Arcturus read aloud from the next paragraph. "The pursuit was delayed because of this, and the Aurors are now investigating why there were so few boats."

"There've always been just three. There's no need for more," Rabastan recalled. "One boat's kept on one shore, another on the opposite, and the third – as needed. So, that night, two boats were on the far side of the strait. Lucky for our guys…"

"A countrywide search has been announced, and portraits are included." Arcturus's gaze lingered on the magical photos taken when the escapees were first imprisoned in Azkaban.

There was something in common among them, and he realized what it was: pedigree. All three appeared as large, dangerous predators, being hunted by a pack of hysterically yapping dogs, a pack to which Arcturus himself had once belonged. Tall, with sharp, expressive features, something hawkish about their faces, and an intelligent, attentive gaze that seemed to unite them all. Only upon closer inspection could you see the differences.

Dolohov. A peer of Riddle's, he still looked younger than his years, despite a life of turmoil and years spent in Azkaban. His black, tousled hair showed little sign of grey, and his thick eyebrows hung over his fierce, unyielding eyes. Even in chains, the Russian wizard looked at his jailers as though he had shackled them, not the other way around.

Rookwood. A contemporary and classmate of Rabastan's – though, according to Rabastan himself, never one to aim for top marks, that didn't stop him from being the most talented of his year. If you ignored the dried blood on his face, Rookwood's features were intelligent and refined, with a slight hint of sarcasm and contempt in the corners of his eyes. A former Unspeakable, he was always well-groomed, his neat, mid-length curly hair and well-maintained, heavily greying beard suited him. Under the Dark Lord, he handled magical research and espionage, rarely participating in battles.

Travers. His adoptive father. A tall, thin man with a strong frame and a stern face. His broad and high forehead balanced by a firm chin, a long, slightly hooked nose with a rounded tip, and deeply set eyes, slightly drooping at the corners, where fine lines rested – not so much from age but from the habit of squinting. Travers was nine years older than Edna, Arcturus's mother, and married her despite her status. Not only did he marry her, but he also adopted her child.

This was the same Travers they had encountered during the Gringotts break-in with Ron and Hermione. He had immediately suspected something was off, which was why he latched onto Hermione in her disguise as Bellatrix. He remembered that Bellatrix's wand had been stolen and grew curious about Ron's disguised identity. He had followed them into the bank with vigilance. It was Travers that Harry had cast the Imperius Curse on for the first time in his life, although Travers had shaken it off by the time the battle started. Every time Arcturus remembered this, he felt – not shame, why be ashamed, it was war – but an awkwardness, like realizing you'd punched a friend by mistake after thinking they were an enemy sneaking up behind you.

Arcturus set the paper aside. These three – or rather four, including Rabastan sitting next to him – were living proof against the belief that one loses their mind after two or three years in Azkaban.

"I've been meaning to ask, but it felt awkward..." He nodded towards the article. "How did you all manage to stay sane for so many years? After everything I've heard about Dementors... 'and not just heard,' he added silently to himself."

Rabastan's dark eyes darkened even more for a moment, but the familiar spark quickly returned.

"Dementors can't break the mind of someone who faces their fears. Occlumency helps, of course. Those of us who couldn't endure it broke down."

"Occlumency?" Arcturus perked up at the familiar word. "I thought that was a rare skill."

"I don't know where you've been all these years," Rabastan remarked, indeed never having pried into Arcturus's past, "but it definitely wasn't among purebloods. It's a fairly common skill among us. The inability to use Occlumency is a sign of mental weakness. Legilimency is rarer, but still quite widespread."

"What?!" Arcturus was so surprised that he forgot some things were better left unsaid in front of Lestrange. "I thought there were only three Legilimens in all of Britain – Dumbledore, Snape, and Voldemort himself!"

Rabastan laughed cheerfully and indulgently.

"Now it's clear, you grew up among *them* and had the sense to get off their hook. Three half-bloods boasting to each other about whose Legilimency is stronger! Do you know what the main advantage of a Legilimens is?"

"Well..." Arcturus had already realized he'd said too much, but Rabastan seemed uninterested in his past. "That they can view other people's memories?"

"No, it's that no one knows they're a Legilimens. Teacher and student swear an Unbreakable Vow of secrecy. Some don't even bother with that and learn on their own from manuals."

"But if you've said this, does that mean you know other Legilimens?"

"I've never asked anyone – knowing too much shortens one's life – but from indirect signs, I suspect there are plenty. Take Snape, for example, the one you mentioned – no one admits to being a Legilimens, yet somehow everyone knew he switched sides to Dumbledore and even why."

Arcturus stared at Rabastan in astonishment. Rabastan misunderstood the reason for his surprise.

"Yeah, Snape switched sides back in '80. That's when he overheard and brought Riddle that cursed prophecy, and when his beloved Mudblood, Lily Potter, was put at risk because of it, he turned to Dumbledore. Dolohov said he traded us for a woman."

"You all knew Snape was on Dumbledore's side the whole time?" This revelation shook Arcturus.

"Yes. He was cleared by the Wizengamot under Dumbledore's guarantee. When Riddle resurrected himself, Snape tried to pass off his role at Hogwarts as secret work for us, but he convinced no one, not even him."

"Then why..." Arcturus couldn't find the words for the question, but Rabastan understood.

"Why didn't we get rid of him? Because even an exposed spy has value. He still had to bring back some information to justify his role, and after verification, it could be useful. We also fed disinformation to the other side through him. Besides, if we got rid of him, they might have replaced him with someone else – we'd uncover the new one eventually, but why add unnecessary trouble? Riddle himself forbade us from touching Snape and went out of his way to highlight his importance."

Arcturus pondered but couldn't recall Snape ever gathering any truly valuable intel on the Death Eaters. Far more information came through his own scar. Snape hadn't warned them about the snake in the Department of Mysteries or the exact timing of the Death Eaters' raid for the prophecy. At the time, Arcturus hadn't questioned it because he thought Snape was a true Death Eater, but now he realized how little real intelligence Snape had provided to the Order of the Phoenix.

Lestrange's voice brought him back to reality.

"Eat, and then we'll talk business," Rabastan said, finishing his breakfast while Arcturus still sat absent-mindedly over his untouched oatmeal. "I've overstayed my welcome, Arcturus."

"Is it because of their escape?"

"Yes."

Both his tone and expression made it clear that the decision was final and not open to discussion.

"So soon?" Arcturus asked, a little lost.

"They know I'm alive and free; they'll be looking for me. I need to meet them before they get into trouble."

"But you could all get into trouble together!"

"Together, it's a different matter. We survived Azkaban together. For friends like that, you can kill or die."

Arcturus felt sorry to part with Lestrange, whom he had come to know and grow attached to. Rabastan wasn't exactly warm, and he was certainly demanding, but this Death Eater was a striking personality and a very knowledgeable wizard.

"Then come back here, all of you," he requested. "Together."

"You're too young to be sticking your neck out like that. Don't worry about us – Britain's big, we'll find a place to hide. Augustus will be with us, he's clever, we'll manage."

"Maybe I can help in some other way?"

Rabastan didn't brush off the offer; instead, he pondered it.

"You can pack some things for my trip," he suggested, "and you might also serve as a contact for us."

Arcturus remembered how the three of them had prepared for a journey last year. Hermione's bottomless bag had carried many things that he and Ron wouldn't have gotten far without.

"I know how to pack for a trip," he couldn't help but boast. "Winky!"

For the next few minutes, he explained to the house-elf what to pack and in what quantities into the guest's bottomless travel bag. Rabastan stood by, listening, not interfering, just nodding approvingly.

"Now let's sort out the communication," Rabastan said when Winky rushed off to fulfill the orders. "We'll need two pieces of parchment. I'll enchant them so that whatever is written on one will appear on the other. The password will be a drop of blood, as is common with such charms. We'll also need a pendant to signal you when I start writing on mine, and you'll hide your parchment in a safe place – no need to explain why. I won't write often, only when necessary. If you learn something important for me, write as well."

Once the communication system was enchanted properly, Rabastan showed Arcturus how to use it and took his half with him.

"And be careful," he said as he prepared to leave. "If the current authorities or anyone else starts bothering you, only conduct conversations at Gringotts, preferably with a solicitor present. The goblins have special rooms for negotiations where neither spells, potions, nor Legilimency work. For particularly important meetings, they even have rooms where entry requires an Unbreakable Vow. It's a paid service; you can ask a solicitor for details."

With the travel bag slung over his shoulder, Rabastan held out his hand to Winky, and she Apparated him out of the mansion. Arcturus was alone again.