A/N: This is written for Gamma Orionis in the 2013 Year of Gift-Giving Extravaganza. I stole the idea from something you once mentioned somewhere on the HPFC and when I saw Voldemort/Rabastan on your request list, this little plot bunny popped (back) up. So I hope you'll enjoy it!


"What will happen, Rod?"

"You know I can't tell you, Rab."

"Come on, I'm your brother!"

"I know. But I'm still not telling you. It's an initiation, dear brother, and it wouldn't be fair if you knew what was coming whilst everyone else is still in the dark, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose," Rabastan sulked. He was still of the opinion that his brother could at least tell him something. That's what brothers were for, right? He could always pretend he didn't know about it when the time came, as to not compromise his brother.

All week, ever since he had found out that he'd be initiated by the next full moon, he'd asked Rodolphus if he could clarify just the tiniest detail, but every time he asked, Rodolphus had refused, stating that initiation-rites were to be kept secret. Rabastan hated not knowing what was coming for him.

The only thing he had gotten out of Rod was that was shouldn't scream or struggle, so he expected it to be something painful. It was an initiation after all. Getting the Mark would certainly hurt as well, so maybe the initiation was meant to prepare the new recruits for that.


Two days later, Rabastan was rather nervously waiting in a sober looking room, along with two other nervous looking recruits. One was a big blond, the other a scrawny brunet.

The brunet was collected first by two men in robes and masks. It didn't take long before Rabastan and the other man heard a scream. Shortly after, there was a thud and then silence. They looked at each other and the blond shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. "Don't scream, don't struggle." Rabastan muttered. He didn't know why he shared his brother's advice, but the blond nodded.

Rabastan was next to be collected. The same men in robes and masks came for him – or were they different men? He couldn't tell. He was blindfolded and led into another room. He could tell there were other people there, for he heard breathing and the shuffling of feet. He had to stand in the middle of the room and his clothes were lifted off him. He shivered in the sudden cold. So it's about humiliation, he thought. Standing naked in a room full of men. A blush crept up to his cheeks, but he held his head high. Well, if that was all, he could manage. He would not let Rod down. He was spun around and then pushed onto the floor on hands and knees.

Panic began to rise inside of him as he felt a cold hand on his arse. Surely they were not going to… He tried to back away, but then he heard a non-content growl and he remembered Rod's words and the thud he heard when the brunet had screamed. Don't scream, don't struggle, he repeated in his mind.

"That's more like it," he heard a cold voice. "Anyone who tries to get away has no place amidst my ranks. I was starting to fear I'd had to kill two tonight…"

Don't scream, don't struggle. Don't scream, don't struggle. Rabastan kept repeating it in his mind like a mantra, even when his arse felt like it was ripped apart when it was entered. Don't scream, don't struggle. But it was very hard not to scream or not to struggle. Rabastan bit his lip until he tasted blood. All the while, the man behind him – who he now knew was the Dark Lord – kept pumping inside of him and with every thrust Rabastan's muscles tensed.

He tried desperately to think of other things when the Dark Lord groaned. Just seconds later, a rush of hot liquid filled him and the Dark Lord withdrew. To his surprise he experienced a sense of loss.

"You sufficed," he heard the Dark Lord say in a just-not completely composed voice.

Rabastan was jerked to his feet and his blindfold was lifted. He blinked against the light. There were not 'several men'. There was half a circle of them and he was shoved amidst them, while his clothes reappeared on his naked body as suddenly as they had vanished.


He didn't dare look anyone in the eyes, so embarrassed was he of what had happened. He glanced around the demi-circle, hoping he wouldn't find any faces he recognised. There was Rod, of course, who avoided his eyes also. There was Bellatrix, Rod's wife, who had her eyes fixed on the Dark Lord with a gleam in them he couldn't quite place. He recognised several others as well: Evan Rosier, Lucius Malfoy, Antonin Dolohov…

Rabastan groaned in embarrassment. He'd never be able to go to another Pureblood party again. But he understood now. Oh how he understood. He knew he would never be able to betray any of these men, because of what they'd seen do to him. And he knew they'd never betray him, because he could testify that they stood by and watched, and had undergone the same treatment he had. It was a twisted way of enforcing loyalty.

Ten minutes later, the big blond he'd seen earlier was brought in. He too was blindfolded and Rabastan looked away. He knew what was coming. He was yanked by the hair and the wizard next to him hissed in his ear: "You'd better watch. He knows when someone is not watching and we'll all pay for it if you don't."

Rabastan nodded silently and fixed his gaze on the scene in front of him. He did not know what he had expected the Dark Lord to look like, but he found that the man was rather handsome. There was something intriguing about him.

As the Dark Lord repeated with the blond what he'd done to Rabastan, Rabastan was highly embarrassed that his groin twitched at the sight of it. What's wrong with me? he thought. How can I be enjoying this? But as he looked at the Dark Lord thrust into the blond, he recalled the sensation of not even half an hour before and his trousers definitely appeared to be too tight.


All in all, it was a very uncomfortable séance for Rabastan and he was glad when the time had come to receive his Mark. He and the big blond, whose name was Thorfinn Rowle, were both found 'sufficient' and were accepted as Death Eaters.

Getting the Mark traced in his skin hurt like hell, and this time, Rabastan did scream. A scent of burnt flesh filled the room as first the skull and then the snake was burned into his skin. Tears were in his eyes and he felt all blood drain from his face. Just when he thought he would faint from the pain, it stopped.

"Leave."

Rabastan looked at his left arm, where the Dark Mark rested black as the night on his pale skin, surrounded by red from the burn marks.

"Yuh…ye…yes, My Lord," he stuttered and stumbled backwards.

He felt someone grab his arm and then the nauseating feeling of Side-Along Apparation.


Rabastan coughed and bent double.

"You did very well," he heard his brother say. "Gawain squealed like a little girl. I'm glad you remembered what I told you."

Suddenly, Rabastan realised something. "Did you too…you know…" He felt his cheeks burn.

Rodolphus didn't answer, but just nodded.

"Rod?"

"Yes?"

"I actually did not mind that much once I saw what he looked like…"

Rodolphus' face darkened. "You'd better not tell that to anyone or you'll get us both killed." He stumped off towards the house, leaving Rabastan behind. Rabastan glanced at his left arm, where the freshly carved Mark rested.

"I'm a Death Eater now," he said, first with a hint surprise, then with more confidence. "I'm a Death Eater now."

He felt a sense of pride. He had done well today. He had shown the men that a Lestrange would not break easily. "I'm a Death Eater now," he declared proudly.

And with that, he walked back to the house.