The Muggle classifieds did not move, and this perturbed Bellatrix to no end.

"It's just…it doesn't make sense," she said, flipping through the paper, sitting cross-legged on the sleeping bag that was Kingsley's bed. "Are they really that backwards?"

"They're not backwards, Bellatrix, they're just Muggles," said Kingsley, looking through his own newspaper. "And they invented lots of things that are quite marvelous."

"I can not believe you just said that."

"Think about it," said Kingsley, reaching for her hand. "All sorts of devices that can…do stuff."

"Stuff," she said, unconvinced.

"Yes," he said, and the door swung open.

"I brought you some toast," said Molly, looking haughtily at Bellatrix.

"Thank you," they said simultaneously, taking the plates.

They were living in a linen closet.

It was getting pretty bad.

.:.

"We could build a house," said Kingsley.

Bellatrix snorted.

"Really, we could. We're both highly capable."

"I don't really think I could."

"Fine, then."

They walked, in silence, for about a minute.

"How's…"

"Rodolphus is dead," said Bellatrix curtly.

"I'm sorry," said Kingsley.

She nodded.

"How did it happen?"

"Attack."

She wasn't very responsive today.

.:.

"Something's wrong."

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Shut up."

.:.

He woke up and she wasn't next to him.

Molly was in the kitchen, sipping tea. Bellatrix was sitting next to her, staring rather despondently into the distance.

"Um," said Kingsley. "Should I go?"

"No," said Molly. She looked tired.

"I feel awful," whispered Bellatrix, bringing her knees to her chin.

"Bellatrix wants some chocolate," said Molly. "Now."

"Why?" asked Kingsley. He truly did not understand.

"Kingsley, just go get some chocolate."

"I…it's three in the morning."

"Please," whispered Bellatrix, looking up at him.

"Is this code for something? Are you hurt?" he asked.

"Just get me the fucking chocolate," she whispered, and he saw something wild in her eyes.

"Okay."