Bellatrix was not taking a bath.
She didn't liking baths because they remind her of her overly tragic childhood and whatnot. She just wants to scrub away the sin when she engages in full on bubble mode, and she really could indulge in a martini right now.
Narcissa is in the bath as well, staring at her past the bubbles and yawning spectacularly. "Do you ever—"
"Probably not."
"You don't even know what I was going to say," said Narcissa, almost in a whine.
"I don't care," said Bellatrix. She felt sick, a little sore, and worried. Oh, God, the amount of worriment was ridiculous. "I really don't care."
"You're being rather…melancholic," stated her sister.
"You don't say."
"I really don't understand."
"Cissy, just leave me alone."
.:.
Kingsley was sitting on the Weasley's front porch when a sudden loud pop and black blur collapsed onto him.
"What the hell?" he asked, completely startled.
"Hi, King," giggled Bellatrix. She kissed his nose.
"Bellatrix, you can't be here," he whispered. "Arthur and Molly will annihilate you."
"I don't care," she said. Her shampoo smelled like strawberries. "I want to show you something."
She stepped into the light and he swallowed. A slight curve was apparent underneath her dress.
"God," he whispered, reaching out. "This puts things in perspective, I guess."
"Yeah," she said, sounding younger than ever.
Suddenly, the front door opened, and Molly Weasley stared at both of them in their pose.
"Kingsley," she said after a good deal of time had passed, "I don't even know."