Chapter 12

Requests

Alice Longbottom hated funerals. She had been to more funerals in the last few years than she should have attended in a lifetime. It never got easier, burying people that she loved, no matter how many times she did it. It was never easy, it always hurt.

Gideon and Fabian Prewett had been her cousins, although sometimes they seemed more like brothers. They had also been her teachers, her mentors and above all else, her dear friends. She did not want to believe that it was their bodies that she had just watched being lowered into the earth, that they were gone, they were dead. Murdered.

Beside her, Molly was weeping onto Arthur's shoulder. Alice had no words of comfort to offer her, nothing she could say would make things better. Gideon and Fabian were dead. Any words of comfort to Molly would be useless. She could not tell her that things would be okay, saying so would be a lie. Gideon and Fabian were dead.

Alice leaned against her husband, and Frank put a comforting arm around her. "I'm sorry." He whispered into her ear.

"It's not right, it's just not right." Alice whispered. There were tears staining her cheeks now, she didn't bother to wipe them away. Gideon and Fabian were dead.

"Frank, Alice!"

Alastor Moody was hobbling towards them, his wooden leg digging into the earth with every step. His scarred face was grim and he looked tired. "I know this isn't exactly the ideal time..." He stopped in front of them. Molly did not look up, her face was still buried in her husband's shoulder. "But we could really use your help."

"What's happened?" Frank asked, his voice fearful. "Another attack?"

"Not yet," Moody growled. "But we've intercepted some of their plans, and I'll be damned if there's another murder on my watch." He glanced over at the new graves. He'd always liked the Prewett boys.

"Alright, we're coming." Alice said and Moody tore his eyes away from the graves.

"Alice..." Molly lifted her head from Arthur's shoulder, her eyes were red and puffy and her expression was pleading. "Alice, please- please don't." Her voice was shaking, "I-I don't know what I'd do if you-if you..." She reached out to her cousin and Alice took her hands in her own.

"Molly, listen." Alice said, "I have to keep fighting, I can't just give up now. No-Molly please, just listen..." She begged as Molly started crying again. "I have to do this, it's what your brothers would have wanted."

Molly looked at her friend, seeing the determination in Alice's eyes. She wished she could be that brave, that she could be as brave as Alice was, as brave as her brother's had been. They were silent for a long time, before Molly nodded and let go of Alice's hands. "Be careful." She whispered. Alice attempted to smile at her, but her face seemed to have forgotten how.

"I will." She promised, and she and Frank turned to follow Moody.


Bellatrix spent only two days in France that summer. Between training Regulus and the growing number of attacks that the Death Eaters carried out, she felt she was lucky to be able to see her daughter at all.

The times that Bellatrix visited her daughter alone were much different than when her master came with her. Onyx was, understandably, much less intimidated by her mother than she was by the Dark Lord. Now that the little girl was seven and a half, she was able to assert her feelings much more articulately than she ever had before.

"You can only stay for two days?" The little girl asked incredulously. "That's all?"

Bellatrix sighed, "I'm sorry Onyx, that's all."

Onyx frowned and fiddled with the skirt of her dress. "I see Aunt Cissy more than I see you." She said after a moment.

Bellatrix could not argue with that. Narcissa spent a great deal of time with Druella in France ever since she had married Lucius. Bellatrix knew that being married to a Death Eater was not the same in reality as it had been in her sister's imagination. "Aunt Cissy is not as busy as I am." Bellatrix said coldly.

Onyx stood up, her hands on her hips. Her face wore a frown and when she spoke her voice had a commanding tone similar to her father's when he was angry. "I want to go back to England with you."

Bellatrix shook her head, "You know you can't. If your father would allow it..."

"Why won't he?" Onyx asked.

"You know why, Onyx. It's not safe for you in England." Bellatrix attempted to take hold of her daughter's hand but Onyx pulled away from her.

"When will it be safe? When will you win the war?" She demanded, glaring at her mother.

"Soon." Bellatrix replied, wishing that she could say so with more certainty. In truth, she had expected them to win years ago, the way the Dark Lord had seemed so confident with his plans. Now, she really had no idea as to how much longer it would be.

Onyx was not so easily convinced, "When is soon?"

Bellatrix looked at her daughter, trying to decide the best way to answer her. "I don't know." She said truthfully. "It's up to your father. I don't have any control over it, I'm sorry Onyx."

Onyx looked defeated. She came and sat beside her mother again, leaned against Bellatrix, "Will you tell him that I want to come back?" She asked.

Bellatrix smiled sadly and smoothed her daughter's hair. "I'll tell him."