It is a bit disturbing when you approached something as downright horrid as causing someone pain and suffering with so much anticipation. However it was more than just pain, suffering or curse practice which made the young Death Eaters blood move around his body with increased vigour, more even than the thought of something breaking up the monotony of life as it had been for too long. No, what really made Rabastan look forward to the evening was the thought of finally proving himself worthy. No more cashing in on family name and opinion alone. Tonight was the night he was actually going to get to do something important.

He left the manor with over fifteen minutes to spare, knowing he had to maintain an act for just a little while longer, and really, for once, it would be done without any hint of bitterness that had often plagued Rabastan of late regarding his feelings towards the whole situation. Tonight was his night, he had helped set the stage, arranged the actors, and now all he had to do was remember his lines and enjoy it. The night was cold and the air still and quiet, as though it was anticipating something to happen soon. Everything was ready.

Rabastan apperated just outside the Hogs Head, mask of detached interest in place, wand ready and fists clenched to stop his hands from shaking. It was an unusual feeling for him, nerves. He had never been the worrying sort, possibly because few things in his life had mattered quite so much as this. If he screwed it up he would be lucky to see the morning for one side would surely catch up with him. He was, it must be said, in a more precarious position than most. Keeping two opposing sides happy at the same time was never going to be easy, however tonight, of all nights, it was going to be nigh impossible.

He pushed the door open and walked in, his footsteps muffled by the dirt on the floor. He was early, however as he was one of the chief organisers of the meeting it made sense that he should be. He was the one who needed to convince both the school and the Aurors that security was both required and currently good enough.

Dumbledore, Flitwick.

He nodded respectfully to the two older men, men who had taught him only a few years back. If only they could imagine what all their efforts had lead to and just how much their ex-pupil now knew.

Our deepst fear is not that we are inadequate
It is that we are powerful beyond measure

Maybe I will never be all the things that I want to be
But now is not the time to cry now's the time to find out why