August, 1962
London
Cygnus Black was not a man who cried.
It was simply not in the Black family nature to reveal signs of weakness. And emotion is for the weak. Thus, Cygnus Black did not so much as weep, even when his firstborn daughter was readying herself for the Hogwarts' Express for the first time.
"Daddy?"
His daughter looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, glittering with an innocent, good-natured curiosity.
"Yes, Bella?"
"What if I AM put into Gryffindor?"
"And what would be wrong with that?"
Bella paused for a moment to think. "It's the house of the foolish. It's not a house for the clever or the cunning. It's not Slytherin. What if I'm not good enough to get into Slytherin?"
Cygnus kneeled down and put a large hand on Bella's frizzy mop of hair.
"Bella. Dear Bella. Gryffindor is also the house of the brave, the house of the strong. Two of the best men I've known were–"
"Cygnus! What is that ridiculous nonsense you're filling her head with?"
Druella Black had overheard that one small bit of their conversation and glowered at them both.
"Druella," he whispered in a sidebar, "She's worried. What you have me say to her?"
She loudly directed her next comment towards Bellatrix, "I would have you say that she should see to it that she gets sorted into Slytherin, or else both of her parents will be quite disappointed in her." She turned her head as she caught the eye of someone in the crowd, waving them over.
Cygnus took this moment to speak directly to Bella. "Dear Bella, you will do well wherever you are sorted. And I want you to know that the Sorting Hat does take your choice into account. That's not to say that's the only thing it considers. But I will be proud of you, and will love you, regardless of the choice you make."
He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, stood up, straightened himself, and pat her on the head. "Now, what you'll want to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten. Best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous."
Later, as Cygnus watched the train pull away, his heart swelled with emotion.
But Cygnus Black was not a man who cried.
July, 1963
Coventry
Bella's 13th birthday party was held at the sprawling Rosier Estate, where she had spent her youth outside of Hogwarts. Although it was deeded to her Uncle Gilles, the current scion of the Rosier family, Cygnus and Druella Black had made it their home. For her part, Bella was surprised when Uncle Gilles decided to attend the party: he had been coming up with flimsy excuses to avoid Black family gatherings for as long as she could remember.
As the night drew on, Bella noticed Uncle Gilles' eyes growing glassy; he did seem to be drinking quite a large amount of her dad's firewhisky. Daddy really favored that particular vintage, and, although they were quite well off, it was still very expensive. That must have been why Bella kept catching him glaring at Uncle Gilles surreptitiously throughout the evening.
As the festivities drew on, Bella opened several fabulously expensive, lavishly wrapped presents. A new pair of cauldrons from grand-mere, a gilded set of Wizard's Chess from Andromeda, a beautiful sapphire telescope from Cissy (although, neither of her sisters were present at the party; it was the tradition that only those who had come of age could attend). After she unwrapped the last of them, Uncle Gilles strode behind her, leaned over, and whispered.
"You haven't opened Uncle Gilles' present, Bella."
"Oh! I didn't? I don't think I saw it!"
Gilles chortled. He was a large man, with ruddy cheeks, bushy eyebrows, and stubbly fingers. Currently, those stubbly fingers were resting on Bella's shoulders. "How foolish of me. I must have left it in my bedchambers. Bella, why don't you come with me, and help me find it?"
At this, Cygnus stood up and coughed loudly. "Gilles, that's quite alright. Why don't I help you with that?" His grip whitened around the glass he held in his hand. "We wouldn't want to keep Bella from the festivities."
Druella shot him an angry glance. "Cygnus, sit down. You're being rude to our guest."
Gilles said nothing and simply smiled warmly at Druella.
Cygnus shook as he moved to sit down. His little Bella caught his gaze from across the room and smiled her sweet, kind, innocent smile at him. She didn't understand. How could she? With sudden resolve, he stood back up and spoke, sharply. "I… No. I will not have this. Not in my house."
At this, Gilles laughed, humorless and mocking. "Your house?"
There was a beat of silence, then Druella spoke. "Cygnus. Dear. Need I remind you that this is the ancestral home of the Rosiers, not the Blacks? So it is, in fact, MY house. Now sit down. I do believe you are offending my brother."
Cygnus did not sit.
"Sit. Down," Druella spat.
Bella was confused. There was no reason to be angry with Uncle Gilles. He just left her gift in his bedroom! She wasn't sure why he needed her to help him find it, but that brief note of confusion was drowned out by a moment of dawning comprehension.
She suddenly understood.
Daddy was just upset that Uncle Gilles drank all of his expensive firewhisky!
Bella would fix this. She was, at her heart, a healer, and she could heal this minor wound. "Uncle Gilles… I'm sure your present is lovely, but do you know what I would really, really love?"
Uncle Gilles looked down at his niece, examining her lithe, nubile figure. "Tell me, Bella," he spoke.
She wondered briefly why he sounded slightly breathless. "Well, I noticed that the 1809 Ogden's is almost empty, and, well, I'm not supposed to tell you this but… Daddy has let me try a few sips on occasion, and I find that the taste is just delightful. Perhaps you could summon your house elf from your estate to provide us with another bottle?"
Bella was proud of herself for her expertly crafted lie. It was a minor lie, but it would smooth over Daddy's frustration with Uncle Gilles.
Uncle Gilles, for his part, laughed, uproariously, and turned towards Cygnus. "You see, Cyg? Here's a girl who knows her worth! Yes, yes, a bottle of the 1809. In fact, let's make it three!"
He clapped his hand, and the Rosier family's elf appeared with a crisp pop. He struggled to lean down to the elf's height and whispered a few words. The elf let out a quick, subservient nod, and disappeared once again.
Druella, at this point, had walked over to where Cygnus was standing and put her hands on his shoulders. Bella could not see that her mother's fastidiously carved and painted fingernails were digging painfully into Cygnus' flesh. "Cygnus, dear. That is more than a fair price. Now sit. Down."
Cygnus closed his eyes and sunk down into his chair.
"See, Daddy? There's nothing to be upset about!" As Bella happily followed Uncle Gilles down the hall, Cygnus turned away. He couldn't watch. And he would not cry.
Even as the door to the bedchamber closed with an echoing shudder of finality, he did not cry.
Even when he heard the muffled shouts and clipped sobs coming from the bedchambers, he did not cry.
Even when, minutes later, Gilles de Rosier emerged, reattaching the buckle on his pants, a tiny splatter of blood on his freshly wrinkled shirt, his bulbous face slick with a sheen of frantic sweat, he did not cry.
Because Cygnus Black was not a man who cried.
May, 1966
Coventry
"Greetings, Uncle Gilles." Bella intoned, icily.
"Bellatrix Black, you will greet your superiors with a smile, not with a scowl," Druella warned.
"Greetings, Uncle Gilles!" She repeated, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.
Druella's hand flew back, and Bella instinctively flinched.
"Greetings, Uncle Gilles…" Bella curtsied politely.
"Greetings, little Bella," he replied, and he kneeled to cup her cheek in his hand. He lightly brushed her neck with his pinky.
Uncle Gilles stood and surveyed the house. He walked over to the sitting area, eyes locked on the three, full bottles of Ogden's inside the cabinet. "I'm pleased to see that you still have some of the 1809, Cygnus. The vintage is truly delightful. Care for a glass, good man?"
"Gilles, it's barely even noon…" Cygnus shifted, uncomfortably.
"Ha! Nonsense. Don't be silly. Who is going to judge us?" He filled his tumbler with liquor, to barely a few centimeters from the top of the glass, and dipped two plump fingers into the amber liquid. After swirling them around for a moment, he placed them lovingly in his mouth, tasting the firewhisky with a wet, sucking noise. He let out an exaggerated moan.
"Simply delightful."
He stretched out his hand and waved his two fingers underneath Cygnus' nose. "Come on now lad, give it a whiff." He lifted his fingers up a bit, wafting the smell upwards, and Cygnus tilted his head back to avoid physical contact. Uncle Gilles extended his remaining fingers, and with his open palm, gave Cygnus good-natured, yet very hard slap. It left a distinct, blob-shaped mark on Cygnus' face, which caused Gilles to laugh uproariously.
"There's a lad!" Gilles took a loud slurp from the glass and stared at Cygnus. "Curious, isn't it, that some things actually taste better the older they get?"
Cygnus didn't respond, but his eyes darted quickly, and his pupils dilated as he saw Narcissa emerge from the hallway. Uncle Gilles noted the change in focus, and at this, he whipped around and smiled broadly. "And this must be little Cissy!"
"Don't call her Cissy." Bella corrected. Druella shot her a warning glare, and Bella nodded with mock formality. "Because that's not her formal name. Allow me to introduce Narcissa. Narcissa Black."
Gilles flashed a toothy, mirthless smile. "And how old are you, little Cissy?"
"I'm eleven, sir. Pleased to meet you." Narcissa giggled a bit.
"Pleased to meet you, darling." Uncle Gilles ran his thumb across her cheek and she giggled even more. He was so silly. His round features and rosy cheeks reminded her of those kindly garden gnomes from the stories father used to tell her.
"And I hear another one is about to have a birthday soon… Her 13th, no?" Gilles inquired.
Druella turned away in disgust. "Yes, however, Andromeda will not be joining us for the summer. She has decided to spend her days in less desirable company."
"She's dating a Muggle," Bella provided. Beneath the perfunctory tone of disgust, a perceptive listener may have noted a hint of triumph and challenge.
Uncle Gilles choked quietly on his firewhisky. "Disgusting." He made a face, worked his mouth a bit, and spit the remaining firewhisky onto the plush carpet of the sitting room. "A Muggle, Cygnus? Truly? You let your family associate with such filth? Well, I suppose I shan't be returning again this summer. I never much cared for the taste of mud."
June, 1968
Coventry
It was Narcissa Black's 13th birthday party, and Bellatrix had just graduated from Hogwarts. She was speaking pleasantly with other members of her family and extended family who had shown up for the twin festivities.
"–and I was thinking of picking up work at Burgin and Burke's while I–
"A Rosier-Black, a common shopkeep?" Aunt Matilda scoffed.
"No, no, nothing of the sort. Of course not," Bellatrix let out a haughty laugh. "Their newest purchasing director, he has made some very interesting advances in the field of ritual magic, and–"
As Bellatrix spoke, a flicker of recognition glint across Aunt Matilda's eyes.
"Oh yes, I actually do recall Mr. Burke mentioning something of the sort. Tom Riddle, no? I'll have you know, I actually went to school with that Riddle boy. A good boy, a nice Slytherin. I'll have you know, I fancied him once!"
Aunt Matilda cackled lasciviously and continued, "Not as handsome now, though, sadly." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "I hear he took a curse to the face in Albania. Which reminds me, my husband and I were just vacationing in the forests of–"
Bellatrix nodded vacantly. She was not listening, she was too busy staring across the room. She could pick up indistinct bits of the conversation. The words were missing, but the intent was crystal clear. All her focus, all her intent was directed at the white-haired, portly, ruddy-faced, stinking, sweating pig that was dripping honeyed words to her sister.
"But Cissy, you haven't opened Uncle Gilles' present."
Narcissa cocked her head, looking around the dining room. "Oh! I didn't see it! Where is it?"
Uncle Gilles chuckled. "Silly me! I must have left it in my chambers. It is a bit heavy, though… Do you think you could help me lift–"
Clambering footsteps, broken glass, a high-pitched shriek.
"NOT MY SISTER, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
Bella had closed the distance between the two of them in the span of a moment, and she flung herself protectively in front of Cissy. With one hand, she pushed Cissy backward, and with the other, she lashed out across Uncle Gilles' face.
She was still holding the shards of her broken wine glass.
The jagged edges of the crystal cut deep crimson ridges across Uncle Gilles' ruddy cheeks. Blood gushed out in angry rivulets as he stumbled backward, crashing into the delicate glass coffee table. He lost his footing, and fell fully over onto the table, the glass giving away underneath with a terrific crash.
Druella stood up, her face ruddy with anger. "Bellatrix Black, what do you–"
"EXPELLIARMUS! RELASHIO!"
Bella flourished her wand, and shadowy black cords shot out, wrapping like tendrils around Druella's feet and Uncle Gilles' torso. With a swift motion, she cracked her hand and the cords whipped up, suspending the two mid-air. It was Judgement Day.
"CRUCIO!"
Reckoning.
"CRUCIO!"
Vengeance.
"CRUCIO!"
There was no one to stop her.
"CRUCIO!"
No one that could keep her from taking what was hers, no one to keep her from protecting–
"PETRIFICUS TOTALIS!"
Bellatrix's father stood, shaking, his wand out.
Bella's body stiffened abruptly. The cords that held the twisting, tortured forms of Druella and Gilles had winked out of existence instantaneously, unceremoniously dropping them both to the ground.
Cygnus Black wept.
"I'm sorry, Gilles. She didn't know what she was doing, she's just–"
Uncle Gilles spoke as he stood up, the wounds already healing with the wordless gesture of his wand. "I've seen enough, Cygnus. One daughter who fornicates with Muggles, and another who would dare attack a pureblood superior? I had my reservations when my sister married a Black, but it's disappointing to see them come true."
"Gilles, please."
"You can forget about my support on the Roanoke matter. And Druella: this man is no longer welcome in my house. I expect him to leave, immediately. Druella, you may stay if you wish. I think there is much business that you and I have to discuss."
Druella nodded and turned angrily towards Bellatrix, but she was already gone, as was Narcissa.
Bella had apparated them both to the hill, their hill. It was already dark, and they could see the stars through the clearing. She held her sister tightly, openly weeping. "Cissy, I may be going away for a while. But you go back home. Go back to Hogwarts. I'll make sure to write, I'll make sure to visit." She pressed something into Narcissa's hand, a small blue sculpture carved of brilliant sapphire. It was a dolphin. Bella's dolphin.
"Bella, I don't understand."
"You will, Cissy. You will."
And with that, Bella apparated away, leaving Narcissa alone, staring up at the stars.
December, 1975
Wiltshire
It pleased her to know that Uncle Gilles never came to another Black family birthday celebration. If she had only done one thing in her life, that was enough. She protected Cissy. If she was safe, that was all that mattered. Eventually, she forgave Father. But their relationship was never the same. How could it be? She wasn't Daddy's dear Bella anymore.
She was only Bellatrix.
It also pleased her when she received the owl informing her of mother's untimely death (although she lived long enough to scorch Andromeda off the family tree). Andromeda had run off with a Muggle. Yes, that was disappointing, but she too was safe, in her own way.
But, it pleased her most of all, to be with her family and friends to witness the marriage of her Cissy. Malfoy Manor was resplendent and glorious, with the sun setting elegantly behind the tiled spires of the main tower. Now, Cissy truly was protected. She carried the protection of the Lord Malfoy. And soon enough, she would carry his children. And oh, how Cissy wanted children.
Some of Bella's most wonderful memories as a child were of laying on the ground in the foothills outside the sprawling Rosier Estate. Due to the various enchantments surrounding the property, the night sky was always preternaturally dark. Cissy and Bella would stare up at the sky for hours, talking about the stars, telling stories about the constellations and thinking ahead into the future.
They talked about their future families and children. They would name them after the constellations, to remind them of their destiny in the stars. Cissy always wanted a big family. She'd start with a boy and a girl. Draco would be the oldest, the greatest: king of the serpents. And Lyra, she represented the love story of Orpheus and Eurydice. Bella could appreciate that. If any harm ever came to Cissy, she too would travel to the depths of Hell and challenge the Lord of the Underworld himself to make things right.
For her part, Bella only wanted one child. If it was a boy, she would name him after the scorpion, Lesath. But what she truly wanted was a girl. She didn't want to pass on the Black family name. She wanted a sweet, darling little girl who she would call Delphini. The dolphin, Bella had once told Cissy, is one of the most intelligent, most social animals. Oh, how Bella loved animals. She was protective, maternal. And one day, she would have that daughter of her own to protect and nurture. But until that day came, she would see to it that Cissy was safe.
And now, she was.
Cissy would have her family. Bella looked up through her heavy-lidded eyes, which sparkled like twin stars. She smiled lovingly at Cissy, who smiled lovingly back at her, and Bella gave the young Lord Malfoy an approving nod.
All was well.
June, 1980
Malfoy Manor
It was dark times, truly dark times. One potential tyrant had fallen decades before, and another had risen in his place, more terrible and more powerful than any before him. A tyrant who saw the Malfoys as an enemy, and therefore saw Cissy as an enemy. A foe that even Bella, with her newfound power and lore, could not protect Cissy from. Bella needed allies, someone worthy of leading an army against the rising tide of Albus Dumbledore.
She found one.
There was something inscrutable about Tom Riddle. He was insane, yes, and powerful beyond measure. But something was off, and she noted a tiny hint of confusion. He spouted ridiculous ideologies, saying openly the kinds of hateful rhetoric that was typically exchanged behind closed doors within the ivory towers of privilege. Bella knew what it was like to speak those words aloud, and knew what it was like to not truly believe them. And she saw that quality in him.
But why? It was not even a means to an end. His power would have been sufficient to cow the noble families into submission. His cunning would have been sufficient to outmaneuver even the most seasoned Wizengamot veterans. The lore he possessed was sufficient to entice even the most erudite of scholars.
He could have easily won over the nobility. And when you win over the nobility, you win over the undesirables. He did not need to appeal to the Carrows of the world. And yet, he did. And so Bella needed to understand, to comprehend. If he was to be the new leader, their new ruler, she needed to know what type of ruler he would grow to becomes. Even a tyrant would be preferable, so long as Cissy was safe. Bella needed to understand.
But those were long term concerns. In the short-term, she needed protection. War was raging. And yet, in the middle of the darkness, there was light. She stood beside Cissy's bed, holding a small, frail baby boy, with piercing eyes and the thinnest wisps of platinum blonde hair. There was light in the world. And she would fight to protect that.
September, 1980
Wiltshire
She's dead. Albus silly, bully billy, bobbing Albus, silly silly silly silly silly Dumbledore, so silly and wily, why? Why why why did you take her, why why why why why why, now you are dead, dead, dead, but little Bella, deary Bella, silly Bella isn't silly anymore, Cissy. Sweet Cissy and little Lyra, all burnt up. Burnt through, murdered. Burned up and burnt through and crisped up like little flakes of burning burning burning burning burning burning burning burning every last one of you will burn like phoenixes and I will burn you until you die and I will burn you when you are reborn and burn you burn you burn you when you wake up again, you took away sweet Cissy and little Lyra, burn burn burn burn burn burn burn–
The crackling power of Bella's manic intensity filled the air outside Malfoy manor, and she tore past the wards and jinxes, forcing her body into Mistform and bouncing off the ground in order to go faster. When she arrived, it was too late.
Dumbledore was gone, and so was Cissy. Lucius stood outside with several of the servants and a few members of the family who had been staying the night. He held little Draco in his arms. His face was white, his eyes sunken, the shock of it all rendering him dead to the world.
Once she gathered her bearings, she directed the mist of her body upwards, through the oppressive heat and licking flames, into the bedroom of the Lord and Lady Malfoy. If there was even the remotest hint of a chance, she would do anything, give everything.
There was not.
She arrived in time only to see the last bits of ruined flesh bubble and crack, melting away from Cissy's face. Although her bonds had long since burned away, her position suggested she had been tied to the bed. There were no eyes left to look into, no final shared gaze. Just a flaming, grinning skull, staring lifelessly back at her.
Bella's scream was one of unending pain as if all sorrow, loss, grief, and rage in the world had condensed into a single point which was then stretched into a sound. With a terrifying crack of power and a whooshing thump, the temperature in the room dropped precipitously, covering everything in a chill of ice and frost. The heat was gone, but the scream continued.
She didn't notice when another sound joined the scream: a hiss. That hiss. That cruel, terrible, baleful hiss that masqueraded as laughter. It echoed across the grounds of Malfoy Manor, unmistakable in its source. The laughter penetrated her mind, devoid of any hint of positive emotion. The laughter was a deliberate mockery of the very notion of happiness.
Beneath the laughter were the pops of various wizards and witches Apparating. Still screaming, Bella looked up and saw the Dark Mark burning bright green in the night sky. It was bright, oppressive, and it blocked out the other pinpricks of light. She could not see Draco, she could not see Lyra, she could not see Lesath. She could see nothing and could feel only rage.
The Death Eaters were arriving, one by one, in response to their masters' call. Lord Voldemort continued his insane, shrieking laughter, and compelled his dear Bella to return to the ground, where she slumped forward, fists on the ground, body wracking with sobs.
When they had all arrived, the Dark Lord spoke: "Dumbledore is finally learning to play the game as it should be played. He has grown up, and we now finally have a foe worthy of Lord Voldemort's attention! Today, the battle has truly begun.
"You look somber, my servants. This is a cause for celebration! The game is afoot, and for that, you should be happy. For that, I shall reward you for your loyalty. For that…" His lips curled upward in a cruel smile, "we shall have a Dark Revel!"
He gestured with his skeleton-fingers towards the prostrate form of Bellatrix. She heard nothing. She did not hear the hushed, shocked silence. She did not hear the awkward cheers and forced shouts of celebration. And she did not feel any of what was to come. Her world was pain, and her world was rage, and there was no room for anything else.
She thought only of Orpheus and Eurydice, and his descent into Hell, courting the Dark Lord himself for a chance to rescue his love from the clutches of Death. Bellatrix would not make the mistakes of Orpheus; she would not look back, she would not question His whim. If this was what he demanded of her, she would submit to it. If it was His desire to drive her insane, she would gladly descend into madness. If he wanted an all-powerful, fanatically devoted zealot, she would oblige.
Cissy's little Draco would grow to abhor her, they all would, but it did not matter. One day, they would come to forgive her. One day, they would have someone to protect of their own, and they would understand.
The Late Evening of June 22, 1992
The Hogwarts Astronomy Tower
"Expelliarmus!"
Bellatrix caught the Elder Wand with her one remaining arm.
"Good evening, Bellatrix." Dumbledore smiled politely as she leveled the wand towards him from across the astronomy tower floor. He inclined his head towards her, "I see we both have been disarmed."
When Bellatrix did not respond, he continued. "Well, I suppose you are going to kill me now, no? You may as well get on with it, then. The night grows long. Before you know it, it will be morning again, and you will have missed breakfast."
"I didn't come to kill you, Albus."
"I thought not. If you had, I would be dead by now, wouldn't I? As inopportune as the question may be, my curiosity dictates that I must ask. How?"
"The Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement."
Albus Dumbledore smiled, "Oh yes, the one with the twin in Burgin and Burke's."
"The very same."
A voice called out warningly, from the entrance to the tower. "He's stalling, Bellatrix."
"Good evening to you, too, Lucius. Come, step out of the shadows. We're in the endgame, now, and it appears I have been mated. Is it you, then, that will capture the king?"
Lucius Malfoy cautiously stepped away from the entrance, his wand pointing at Dumbledore but his gaze fixed on the door. His voice was shaking, his face was pale. This was not the sleek, composed Lucius Malfoy that Dumbledore was used to interacting with.
"Stop. Just tell me, is it true?" Malfoy's voice cracked on the final word.
Dumbledore appraised Lucius for quite some time. Lucius Malfoy was far too skilled for this to merely be a clumsy attempt at fishing for information. So there must have been more, there must have been another layer. Dumbledore determined that the best response was mere silence, to wait for his foe to provide more information, more context.
"Tell us about the Phoenix's Egg!" Bellatrix shrieked.
Dumbledore wavered, his eyes widened in shock. Their knowledge of this information hit him like a hammer's blow. He could not help himself: "I ask again: How?"
Lucius was silent while Bellatrix spoke for him. "The Dark Lord sent me to find Master Flamel and fetch a toy. But I came back with something far more valuable."
He needed to stall. "And what of Master Flamel?"
Bellatrix recited what she had rehearsed, what she had been instructed to say. "I killed her as a distraction."
"Distraction? " roared Dumbledore, his sapphire eyes tight with fury. "You killed Master Flamel for a distraction? How could you? Even you, how could you? He was the library of all our lore! Secrets you have forever lost to wizardry!"
"Yes, yes, it's all quite sad. But had she loosened her tongue earlier, perhaps she'd still be alive."
"She did not have what you came for," said Albus Dumbledore, his voice low and cold. "Nor can you ever come to possess it. Nor can your master, for that matter."
Bellatrix could not help but go off-script. "I don't give a damn about the Dark Lord and his plans!" Her voice cracked. "The egg!"
Albus took a step towards Lucius, who thrust his wand forward angrily. "Renouncing the Dark Lord, Bella? That does not sound like you. Nor does this seem like you, either, Lucius. You've always remained above it all. Observing, moving pieces at a distance. How curious that you would venture forth and wage war outside the battlefield of the Wizengamot."
"None of that matters, Albus. I give you one last chance to surrender the information peacefully. I suggest that you take it."
"That sounds much more like the Lucius that I've grown accustomed to. I would tell you, but it appears that we have visitors, and I daresay those words are not for their ears."
Lucius momentarily shifted his focus: it wasn't a trick. There were footfalls, muffled voices.
"I can't believe you even came back to Hogwarts. This better be worth it. "
"Gran got an urgent owl from Harry. Told me to fetch you two and to meet at the Astronomy Tower."
Bellatrix kept the wand pointed at Dumbledore, and Lucius pivoted in place, keeping an eye on the staircase that led to the landing. The voices were becoming clearer now.
"But why wouldn't Harry just come get me, himself?"
"Or me?"
"It's Harry we're talking about. Since when has anything he does ever make sense?"
Both Lucius' and Dumbledore's eyes grew wide as they recognized the voices and watched the figures they emerged into the room. Only Bellatrix seemed to retain her composure.
"Draco?" Lucius Malfoy hissed.
"Father?!" Draco Malfoy shrieked.
"Mum…" Lesath Lestrange whispered.
"YOU!" Neville Longbottom roared. Without word or warning, he charged forward towards Bellatrix.
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
The Elder Wand flew from Bellatrix's hand and Neville caught it, mid-air.
"LAGANN! PRISMATIS!"
Augmented by the glorious battle hymn of the Elder Wand, Neville dismantled Bellatrix's and Lucius' shields as quickly as they could form them.
"LAGANN! RELASHIO!"
He flourished the wand, and shadowy black cords shot out, wrapping like tendrils around Bellatrix's feet. With a swift motion, he cracked his hand and the cords whipped up, suspending her in mid-air. It was Judgement Day.
"CRUCIO!"
Reckoning.
"CRUCIO!"
Vengeance.
"CRUCIO!"
There was no one to stop him.
"CRUCIO!"
No one that could keep him from taking what was his, no one to keep him from-
"PETRIFICUS TOTA-"
"EXCELSIOR!"
Lesath Lestrange stood, shaking, his wand out. His attempted curse had been blocked and fizzled in mid-air, but it achieved something of its purpose. Neville had stopped his assault and was glaring at Lesath, panting heavily.
"She. Killed. My. Dad. And. Mum."
Lesath shrieked, desperately. "And you're about to kill MY mum!"
"She has to die!"
"NO, SHE DOESN'T!" Lesath was openly sobbing, now.
"It's true, son of Frank and Alice." Bellatrix had caught her breath now and whispered hoarsely.
"YOU. DO NOT. GET TO TALK TO ME! CRUC-" Neville's shout was cut short when he saw Lesath running towards him. "VENTUS!"
A blast of wind knocked Lesath off his feet and he landed a few meters away, near Dumbledore, who had been observing the pitched battle cautiously. Draco had quietly slunk over to his father, communicating wordlessly with nothing but pointed glances.
"I think you'll find, Neville, that vengeance never tastes quite as sweet as you imagine it to be." Dumbledore cast a meaningful glance towards Lucius.
"Respectfully, Headmaster, I disagree. This feels very, very good," and he walked up to Bellatrix Black, jamming the elder wand into her forehead.
Bellatrix hissed, "You can kill me, boy, and perpetuate this cycle of bloodshed. Or you can see why I summoned you here." At this, Neville's eyes narrowed, and Bellatrix continued. "It wasn't Harry Potter who sent that owl."
It was Lucius who cut in, "Why?!"
"This was the payment, the price I paid for Cissy." She cast her gaze back towards Neville, looked him in the eyes, and whispered a single word.
"Legilimens."
A building, stone and foreboding.
A room. Cheap stink of aqua vitae and Mandrake root.
Two figures, gaunt, lifeless eyes.
Alive, but lifeless.
A fiery, orange gem.
A diffuse spiderweb of crackling pain and hurt
Calcified
Hardened
Unyielding
Pried apart, bit by bit
Healing
She was a healer at heart
Hours of waiting, hours of prying and peeling
Peeling and prying until the last cobwebs had faded to dust
The ghosts were banished
They opened their eyes for the first time in eleven years and saw the world
for what it was
They saw her, and they were frightened
Don't be frightened
You will see your son, soon, if he makes the right choice
You will be made whole
But first, you must come with me
"You're lying." Neville grit his teeth as he shook off the effects of the mental probe.
"Kill me, then."
"Even if you're telling the truth, you deserve to die! Eleven years! Eleven years I've lost with them! I didn't have a mum or a dad, because of you!"
"And I lost a sister because, and Lucius a wife, and Draco a mother, because of him," she gestured weakly at Dumbledore, "And you will never comprehend the extent of the horrors, the depth of the abyss into which I was dragged."
She heaved a breath, and continued, thrusting her hand out weakly. "They wanted… They wanted me to give you this." It was a small object, wrapped in linen. It fell to the floor, and what Neville saw brought tears to his eyes.
A single wrapped piece of bubblegum.
"Take it, and do not touch it until you are outside the grounds of Hogwarts.
It's linked to my lifeforce; kill me and it will cease to function."
"A portkey…?"
Bellatrix nodded.
"But… but why?"
"A life for a life, Neville Longbottom. Now go, go and meet your parents."
Hesitantly, Neville reached out and picked up the portkey, making sure to only touch the linen wrapper, and then began to walk cautiously towards the stairs, the Elder Wand pointed midway between Bellatrix and Lucius.
Dumbledore was nodding, finally understanding the implications. "You're making the right choice, Neville. But I must say, there's a faster way out of the Astronomy Tower than the stairs. And I must reclaim something of mine from you."
"What do you mea-"
"VOLESONORUS!"
And with that, Neville was lifted off his feet and cast backward out of the window. The Elder Wand clattered to the floor, and in one swift movement, Dumbledore retrieved it, pointed it out the window, and yelled "ARRESTO MOMENTUM!"
Neville's descent was slowed until he landed softly on the ground a hundred meters below.
"You're crazy! You're insane, you know that! All of you are crazy!" Neville shouted up at them as he sprinted off towards the exit.
"Now then. Draco and Lucius Malfoy. Bellatrix Black and Lesath Lestrange. Son, husband, sister, nephew. I'm afraid that I have been deceiving you for these eleven long years. Bellatrix, I can see that you understand the price, for in many ways, what I have done to Narcissa Malfoy was tantamount to what you did to the Longbottoms."
"It's… it's true then." Lucius Malfoy could not keep himself from weeping. The sight of this disturbed Draco greatly, who whispered to his father in confusion.
"Yes, it's true. Narcissa Black is alive, a bargaining chip to be held for the direst of situations, should I ever need to exert the ultimate leverage on you, Lucius."
"Mum… is alive?" Draco choked.
Dumbledore nodded and extended his hand. "If you all will join me, we must take a little trip to Sydney, Australia."