Andromeda Mallory Tonks (nee Black) had spent the past two decades trying to distance herself from Bellatrix and everything she stood for. Gazing calmly up at Remus Lupin, her face betrayed no emotion, but she wanted — no, needed — nothing more than to channel her elder sister.
"You miserable swine." Her voice was soft enough that no one would hear her but for those who had met Bellatrix at her very worst. "My daughter is dead, Remus. You brought destruction and ruin upon my family."
Remus had been staring at the floor, but, at her words, he snapped his head up. His eyes were bloodshot, underscored by dark circles, and his skin, typically ashen, had blanched to gray. "You're not Bellatrix. Why don't you run after her?" His face appeared more haggard — older — than she could ever remember seeing him. "I didn't—"
"It is as you said," Andromeda went on. Even in a whisper, her vowels were rounded and her consonants crisp: the voice of the prestige class. She stood proudly, her face unflinching and her shoulders thrown back. "I am not Bellatrix. I am, however, her sister. She is nothing to me, but you are worse than nothing. You are the man who made my daughter's life nothing short of Hell. She is dead because of you. My husband would stand beside me here — and he would say absolutely nothing."
"You're not Bellatrix," Remus said again. This time, it sounded fearful and uncertain, his voice rising into a question.
Andromeda lifted her wand. "No," she told him. "For Bellatrix, it's never personal."
The words were the last Remus Lupin ever heard.