Ch. 8: In Which There Is War
Andromeda Lestrange did not believe in speaking during battle. In her opinion, it was a distraction and showed a lack of control.
Bellatrix disagreed.
"Is widdle Andy gonna cwy?" she crooned as the younger woman dodged her Bludgeoning Curse. Andromeda's only answer was an Avada Kedavra. Around them, Death Eaters and Order members dodged about the old manor's faded furniture. Soon, the aurors would arrive and the Death Eaters would flee.
Another curse flew at Bellatrix, shattering an accioed plate. She forced a giggle, eliciting a growl from Andromeda. "Oh, is she gonna point her itty-bitty wand at me. So scary!"
They exchanged more curses, all of questionable legality.
Bellatrix continued cheerfully, "Are you scared, Andy? Are you gonna wet yourself like you did every night till you turned six?"
The Sectumsempra missed its intended target. It still grazed Bellatrix's wand arm, however, cutting deeply and ruining her aim. She shrieked but kept moving. The only excuse for not moving during a battle is being dead, as her mother always said. Clutching her limp arm to her chest, Bellatrix threw herself behind a couch, and, with a shaky breath, apparated. It was a miracle she didn't splinch herself.
Bellatrix landed on her knees in the Potter home, her blood drenching the floorboards. She struggled to her feet, and staggered deeper into the current headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. The pale face of Molly Weasley greeted her in the parlor.
"Bella, your arm…" Molly cried. "You should be in St. Mungo's."
Bellatrix shook her head. "I can wait. The arm's still attached, and I'm not bleeding that much."
Molly frowned, "It's still too much blood, and…oh, Merlin, is that bone?"
"I'll be fine," Bellatrix insisted, brushing off Molly's attempts to help her to the couch. She wasn't so much of an invalid that she couldn't walk ten feet before collapsing.
She acquiesced to the Blood Replenisher and pain reliever, but refused to accept Dreamless Sleep. After all, if things went badly, she might have to return to the battle.
"Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn't you be watching Bill and Charlie?" Bellatrix asked.
"They'll be fine with Arthur, so long as he doesn't burn the house down again. I came to give the Order more medical potions and, when I heard about the attack, decided to stay for a little while and help," Molly said.
"You need to stop doing that."
"Doing what? Making sure my brothers and idiot best friend don't bleed to death because they've run out of Blood Replenishers?" she snapped.
"Helping," Bellatrix said. "It will only bring trouble for you. You already have two sons and another on the way. You shouldn't be involved."
Molly sniffed. "I'm already involved. I'm a Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs don't just stand around while their friends are getting hurt. It's not like I'm running into battle and screaming 'Shoot me!' like you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Bella, I was there during the Diagon Alley attack last month. The way you taunt your sister and all the others, it's almost as if you want them to kill you…You don't, right?" Molly nibbled her lip anxiously.
"Of course I don't! I just figure they're going to try to kill someone and, if it isn't me, then it's bound to be one of my friends. It might even be a Puff, and, if a few insults can send those spells towards me instead of a civilian or a new Order member or someone else who can't dodge and isn't as skilled at managing pain as I am, then all the better."
Molly smiled. "Puff."
"Always," Bellatrix said. "Also, I hope that, someday, Andy will become angry enough to make a stupid mistake and get captured…or, maybe, start shouting back. She's killed several of my friends. The least I can do is make sure she has a bad day."
Bellatrix's baby talk saved dozens of Death Eater recruits from an early death. If there's one thing a Gryffindor can't resist, it's a challenge.
It's important to get out of the house, now and again, when caring for small children. Most women go to the spa, lunch, or out shopping for their dose of easy breathing and adult company. Molly Weasley preferred war meetings.
Bellatrix's voice was warm as she walked over, weaving between other Order members. "Molly! How are the kids?"
"A handful," she admitted, "and Gideon?"
Bellatrix smirked. "The same. What's going on?"
The brunette gestured towards a small crowd, off to the side. They were laughing, a sound which had grown increasingly rare as the war dragged on.
"New recruits." Molly's eyes were dark, half-hidden by her red bangs. Though new members were initiated a few times each year, the Order of the Phoenix was never a large group. The Death Eaters made sure of that.
"Who are they?"
"The Potters' son and his friends."
Bellatrix frowned. "Potter…that Fourth Year Ravenclaw that Bones dated?"
"No, that was his cousin," Molly said. "He's a few years younger."
She hummed thoughtfully. "Do you think they're any good at fighting?"
"Who cares if they're any good? They shouldn't be fighting, at all. They're children, Bella," the redhead said, voice wobbling. "They weren't even at school at the same time as us."
Bellatrix said, "That just means we're getting old. It's not like they're much younger than us, when we joined."
"Still…"
"Come on, let's go say hi. If they're really that young, then they ought to feel welcome, at least. You don't want to be the angry-faced old lady, who glares at everyone. Do you?" Bellatrix held out a hand, and, with a small smile, Molly followed her to the group. Taking a deep breath, the redhead mustered up a motherly smile.
"Hi, I'm Molly Weasley," she chirped.
A tall brunette grinned, gesturing towards the others who were still talking with Dorcas Meadows. "James Potter, good to meet you. This is my fiancée, Lily. My friends: Remus, Peter, and-"
"Sirius," Bellatrix breathed, recognizing the long, black hair and roguish grin.
Sirius looked up. "Huh?"
She threw herself at him, hugging tightly. Sirius gaped. "B-Bella? Aren't you dead?"
"Runaway," she said.
"Oh…Heh, me too."
"How'd that happen?" she asked.
"I'm a Gryffindor. Didn't you hear?"
She chuckled darkly. "I haven't spoken to the family in seven years. Who would have told me?"
"Right," he muttered. "You've definitely changed."
"Hm?"
"I can't imagine you hugging me, seven years ago."
"You can't be Molly's best friend for fourteen years without getting used to hugs. Also, you were really annoying, back then. You probably still are; I just don't care, right now."
Their bonding moment was interrupted very quickly. "Oh, the heartache, the excruciating pain, the deep, stabbing betrayal-"
Molly giggled. "Hi, Gideon."
"-returning from a long day's work only to find my beloved in the arms of another man. Truly, fate has chosen to back-hand me, razor blades strapped to each delicate knuckle."
Bellatrix sighed, stepping back. "Gideon, this is Sirius, my cousin."
"And her fiancé," Molly added, thoroughly enjoying the horror on Gideon's face.
Sirius blinked. "Huh?"
"Our mothers went through a weird phase, but that was never official," Bellatrix said.
"It wouldn't be that odd, though. He is your first and third cousin, after all."
Bellatrix shuddered. "Are you ever going to stop bringing that up?"
The redhead shrugged. "Probably not."
James tried to regain his position as the center of attention. He grabbed Bellatrix's hand, raising it to his lips. "Hello, I'm Sirius's best friend James. And you would be…?"
"Taken," Gideon said.
"As are you," Lily said, yanking him back.
"When is the wedding, dear?" Molly inquired politely, smiling at the younger redhead.
Lily smiled back. "August."
"Is this an army or a bloody sewing circle?" Moody grumbled, stomping past on a wooden leg. Molly winced. He definitely didn't have that at the last meeting she'd attended…
Quieting, they settled into their seats and their conversation quickly turned to the war. Words of hope, bravery and victory were thrown out, but, glancing around, the redhead noticed that there weren't any more seats filled than there had been a few months before. Suddenly, Molly wanted to go home.
Staying home with your wand your pocket might not be the bravest thing, but, in Molly's opinion, family was always worth more than Gryffindor bravado.
Molly was going to make chicken for dinner, stuff it full of carrots and onions, and serve it with great globs of mashed potatoes. It would be drizzled in gravy, her mother's recipe, and, hopefully, she could convince Percy to eat it. He was such a picky child. For dessert, something sweet, maybe…
A hand squeezed her shoulder, bringing her back to reality. Her husband's, she recognized. She shouldn't have resented him for that, but reality wasn't a place worth being, on that dreary Tuesday. Not when her brothers' caskets lay ten feet ahead.
They'd had to take Bill out of school, for the day, which was probably for the best. He was so terribly distraught over his uncles' deaths, as was Charlie. Percy, Ron, and the twins were too young to truly understand, but, taking their cues from the older boys, remained gravely silent. Even baby Ginny barely whimpered.
On any other day, she would be immensely pleased, but, now, Molly couldn't feel much of anything.
"I need air," she murmured. "Can you…?"
Arthur kissed her forehead. "Of course."
She hurried away, collapsing against the wall as soon as she was out of sight. A mother should never break down in front of her children, in Molly's opinion, but privacy was hard to come by in a household of nine.
She wouldn't find it in that quiet hallway, either.
"Molly," Bellatrix said softly, sitting beside her. She didn't speak again or even look at her friend. They sat side-by-side, as Molly sobbed and Bellatrix stared dully at the ceiling. When Molly had cried herself out, she turned to the brunette.
"Why didn't you ever marry him?" Molly hadn't meant to ask that. It was horribly insensitive, but she didn't have the energy to protect Bellatrix's feelings, right now. She could barely deal with her own.
"He stopped asking," Bellatrix said. "I don't think he wanted me to be a widow."
The redhead watched her friend, pale and gaunt in black robes. "You still are, though."
"I know." They stayed there for some time, neither ready to face reality. Reality was full of death, pain, and too-quiet children. Better to dwell on the merits of serving bread pudding for dessert.
The Death Eater's refusal to attack funerals would forever baffle Bellatrix Lestrange.
Bellatrix didn't dare fall asleep. It was Halloween night, after all, and Lord Voldemort had always possessed a fondness for the theatrical. At six AM, however, the brunette cursed her paranoia. There'd been no battle, at least not one that she'd been summoned to. Just as she contemplated crawling into bed for a couple hours' rest, her fireplace roared green. She crouched beside the flames, surprised to see her best friend's face. It was hard to tell, in the shifting flames, but she suspected Molly had been crying.
"Molly?" she asked. "Is everyone alright?"
Molly sniffled. "Y-yes. We're okay. We're…we're great. You-Know-Who is dead."
"Oh," she said. This should have been great news, and it was, really, but, if it had come even a month sooner, Gideon and Fabian Prewett would have survived.
Bellatrix asked. "How?"
"He killed the Potters, but, somehow, little Harry survived. They say You-Know-Who's own spell bounced back at him."
A small smile played at her lips. "Wow. Is Sirius alright?"
"He…"
The smile fell; her voice grew pleading. "Please don't tell me he's dead."
"He's not." That should have been a relief, but Molly wouldn't meet her eyes.
"What happened?" Bellatrix asked, her voice dull. More bad news. Wasn't that always how it went?
"I…I shouldn't even know this, but Arthur works at the Ministry. They say Sirius killed a dozen Muggles and Peter Pettigrew. They say he betrayed the Potters, betrayed all of us. He says that too."
"Oh…goodbye, Molly," she said softly, shutting the floo connection.
It had been nice, having a member of her family be related in blood as well as loyalty. But Sirius had always been a brilliant liar and a better prankster. It wasn't hard to trick them all, and it seemed his loyalty lied elsewhere. To keep that loyalty in spite of friendship and dozens of battles side-by-side with the Order was more than she could have ever managed. The Hufflepuff in her couldn't help but be impressed.
Across Britain, wizards and witches laughed, danced, and drank themselves silly. Stars rained down in a shower of light. Hundreds of owls departed to spread the good news.
Bellatrix Black dragged herself to bed.
In a time when her colleagues escaped justice through bribery and lies, Bellatrix Lestrange was too loyal to say anything but the truth.
Before the lynching, can I just say that I love Gideon? He's crazy fun to write (this particular archetype is now firmly in my repertoire for future works), but he's also something of a spotlight stealer. More importantly, this isn't a story about how much better things are just because Bellatrix is a Hufflepuff. People are still going to die, and we're bound to like some of them. On that depressing note, remember to leave a review!
IMPORTANT NOTICE: The next update will take a few extra days while I rework the story somewhat. Presuming things go as planned, there should be an extra chapter or two of material, but first I need to write, edit, scrap, rewrite, and edit again. I'll be back in no more than a week.
