Am I alive? I think I am. At least I am now. So we celebrate with another chapter.

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I'm dedicating this chapter to Emma Dobbs, and the only thing I own is Lulu the sheep.

Harry had not been expecting Yaxley to write back so soon, so it came as a surprise to him when an envelope plopped into his lap. At first, it looked a bit like those papers Muggles got in the mail that they called "bills". But when Harry tore it open, he was pleased to see a letter from his penpal. He always felt better when he had a letter from Yaxley. It said:

Dear Harry "Elbows" Potter,

I like your new nickname. I'm proud of you for elbowing a third-year. I only managed a couple of second-years when I was in school.

I'm glad you're not angry at me anymore. When you didn't write to me, I cried until Travers called me a baby.

Unfortunately, I can't get into Hogwarts to sneak out and do cartwheels. You make it sound so easy, but with all this "anti-Death Eater security" going on, I was turned away at the entrance. Three times.

I've never eaten death before. Bellatrix might have, though. I'll go ask her when I'm done writing this.

Also, you're doing it all wrong. Don't start with the Hufflepuffs. Start with the Ravenclaws. Once you have them on your side, you can do anything. Got it?

I'm hungry. I'd better go see what is for dinner. I hope it's chicken pot pie. I haven't had one since I was a little boy.

Mostly sincerely, Your Yaxleyness

P.S.: I can't be entirely sincere, as I'm too hungry.

Harry only hoped Yaxley could have something to eat, and soon. He worried his penpal wasn't getting enough.

"For the last time," said Ron. Harry hadn't even seen him. "you don't have to write to Yaxley. Umbridge is gone now. And I'm a bit unnerved by it."

"Why?" Harry asked. "You don't have to write to Yaxley. You don't even have to know who Yaxley is."

"Because, Harry, you haven't been quite right since you started writing to him. You've been...off somehow."

"How?" Harry spat back. He didn't mean to say it like that. It kind of just happened.

"I'm not really sure." said Ron. He seemed to be backing down, and said nothing to Harry for the rest of the evening.

Partly to take his mind off things and partly because he had a Potions essay to write, Harry took out some parchment. He meant to start on the essay, but instead wound up writing back to Yaxley. He couldn't help it. Harry liked writing to Yaxley. He began:

To my Yaxleyness,

Is that how I refer to you if you call yourself "Your Yaxleyness" Do I capitalize the "my"? I'm confused and I would like it if you specified.

It's easy to elbow a third-year. Just do it when they least expect it.

You don't need to sneak into Hogwarts. I only said that because I'm in here. You can just do the cartwheels.

If you're going to talk to Bellatrix, tell her I don't like her because she made Hermione change sides and only I can do that.

I'm sorry you're hungry, but I'm also not sorry because it has been more than a year and I still don't have my monkey. You can't promise someone a monkey and not give them a monkey. That's just bad manners.

If you promise never to forget to sign off with "Your Yaxleyness" I will draw on Dudley with lipstick again this summer.

Love, Harry.

Harry wasn't sure why he had written "Love, Harry", but he was too tired to cross it out. He dropped the letter into an envelope, sent it away with Hedwig, and went upstairs. If he hurried, he would have time to sneak into the kitchens and steal a plate of carrots. Maybe Yaxley wanted carrots. Harry went to the window to summon Hedwig back, but the owl was too far away.

Yaxley had been so excited to receive his letter from Harry that he had squealed a bit, which had startled Dolohov and Alecto, who had been playing wizarding checkers on the floor (the difference from Muggle checkers was that the gameboard had a tendency to emit smoke during strategic moments.) Yaxley had only meant to skim through the letter for now, but one sentence jumped out at him. It was the one about Bellatrix.

Not wanting to disappoint Harry and risk making him angry again, he went to go talk to Bellatrix about why Harry didn't like her. Yaxley headed straight for her bedroom, pausing only to upright the potted plant that someone had tipped over earlier. When he reached the door, Yaxley took care to knock exactly six times. Bellatrix hated when people didn't knock exactly six times, but ever since she had bitten Yaxley for accidentally reaching seven, he had been especially careful.

All he heard was a slightly muffled, "Come in."

Instead of wondering why Bellatrix's voice was muffled, he turned the doorknob and accepted her invitation. Second later, he backed out and immediately sent for Hermione. This was her area of expertise, not his.

Hermione had been trying to see her reflection in the Quibbler, as Luna had shown her how to do, when Yaxley burst in and told her what her best friend was up to. "Are you sure it was that?" she asked him.

"I'm entirely sure." said Yaxley. "Isn't that your thing?"

"Well, yes," Hermione said. "But I'm not a qualified therapist or anything. I'm just her best friend." She took a quick peek at the note on her wall that Bellatrix had told her never to take down when she'd first joined the Death Eaters. It said, "You are my best friend now, whether you want to be or not."

"She listens to you better than to anyone else. Just do what you normally do."

Hermione couldn't argue with that. After all, she had talked Bellatrix into coming back after eloping with a house-elf. She got up and went to her best friend's room, careful to remove her socks first. Hermione knocked six times but didn't wait for an invitation. She asked, "Bellatrix, are you doing your turtle meditation or trying to communicate with Regulus?" in what she hoped was a calm and collected voice.

Silence. Then, "I'm not sure."

"How are you not sure?" asked Hermione, picking up a few articles of clothing from the floor. She had tried to explain the concept of laundry to her best friend on multiple occasions, but nothing ever came of it.

"Well," Bellatrix curled into a tighter ball, but picked up her head just enough to look at Hermione. "I meant to do my turtle meditation, but I couldn't picture myself in the water. I kept picturing myself on a farm. There were sheep there. Like Lulu. Can we go see Lulu again?"

Remembering what had happened the last time they had gone to see Lulu, Hermione said, "I offered to steal her for you. And why is your turtle meditation suddenly not working?"

"Regulus told me he liked hot chocolate." said Bellatrix. "I told him to wait until I was finished with my turtle meditation, but Regulus is very impatient when it comes to hot chocolate. Once, when he was alive, he asked me for some, and I said no, and he kicked me and tried to blame it on Kreacher."

Hermione wasn't sure what to focus on, the fact that Bellatrix thought she could actually communicate with her dead cousin or the fact that she had told her something about her past. She didn't remember Bellatrix ever telling her about her past before. She picked the former.

"Have you ever told Regulus about me?" she asked. It was a little safer to go along with it.

Bellatrix thought for a few seconds. "Once. He didn't like you because you're a Mudblood. However he liked you because you remind him of me."

"Like you?" Hermione remembered reading that in one of her letters. Even though she could now talk to Bellatrix personally, she still kept all of her letters.

"Like me."

Bellatrix decided her turtle meditation had had too many interruptions and pushed herself into a seated position. "Can I tell you about when Regulus was alive? I talked to the Dark Lord about it once, but he was sleeping and I don't think he heard me."

"That would be fascinating."

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Bellatrix talk about Regulus, but not before getting them each a mug of hot chocolate.

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