Evey was glad that nobody argued when she said she was coming along. If the kids were in danger, she wanted to help.

Walden Apparated with her inside the Department of Mysteries – she really ought to learn how to do that, one of these days – and Tony popped up beside them a moment later, although she only knew that because he told them to be careful; he had turned himself invisible so that his former associates wouldn't realise he was alive. Evey herself didn't bother; she wanted Walden to be able to see her, if he needed her. Keeping everyone alive was her priority and if someone recognised her, well, she would deal with the consequences.

The other members of the Order were already there and engaged in combat against Death Eaters. One of them – the only woman, as far as Evey could see – let out a loud curse when she spotted Walden and threw a nasty hex in his direction. That had to be the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange. Evey raised a ward in front of them both and shot back a Full Body-Bind Curse at the older witch, which she evaded by stepping aside gracefully. She was obviously a skilled duellist. Walden engaged her a moment later and Evey turned toward the man who stood beside the mad woman. He was thickset and dark-haired and seemed bored to death even as he fought Evey. That would be Rodolphus, Bellatrix's husband.

Just as the Death Eater started to shout the incantation for the Killing Curse, Antonin – Evey assumed it was him – shoved Lestrange aside and grabbed his wand. He snapped it in half and threw the pieces in Rodolphus's face as the older man stared quizzically at Tony's invisible form. They had been told not to kill anyone, but rather to disable and capture as many Death Eaters as possible, so Tony simply Stunned Rodolphus and left him there.

Evey turned to find a new opponent – Walden seemed to have Bellatrix well in hand – but before she could do anything, a terrible pain hit her.

It was like nothing she'd ever felt. The agony left her utterly helpless and she fell to the floor, writhing and screaming.

It was impossible.

She couldn't be alive. It had to be… her twin, maybe? He sniffed the air. No, it was her, alright. He remembered her scent. He remembered it very well indeed.

As he was still trying to process the information, he suffered a second shock – both literally and figuratively. As a flash of crimson light hit the girl and she collapsed from the agony of the Cruciatus Curse, he felt her pain echo in his own body. He gaped at her in horror before recovering his senses – somewhat.

That explains the monthly cramps, at least, he thought bitterly. And the bloody vampire bite. How the fuck did she get bitten by a bloodsucker? It had to be an Ancient, too, for Fenrir to still bear the mark. No other wound would leave a scar on him. Most likely, it was the same Ancient who was presently giving the Death Eaters a hard time. It was strange: Fenrir could have sworn he knew that person's scent, but mixed with the overwhelming vampire stench, it was difficult to say exactly who it was. It had to be a recently turned one, however. He knew all the other bloodsuckers' scent like he knew that of his pack members.

The pain stopped abruptly. He saw the girl get back on her feet an instant later – she was stronger that she looked – and start a duel against the person who'd attacked her. Rabastan, as he might have expected. It was one of the man's favourite spells. As a green blaze hurtled toward the girl from another direction, however, it suddenly dawned on him that, if she died… Zum Donnerwetter!

Cursing some more under his breath, he ran and crashed into her. They landed hard on the stone floor and the girl's wand flew some distance away. Rabastan gave him a nasty glare, but his attention was diverted as another member of the damned Order engaged him. Remus, Fenrir thought – the Order's poodle.

"What the hell!" she shouted. She tried to disentangle herself from him but he pinned her down under him. Her eyes opened wide when she realised it was him. "You?!" she hissed. "I'll fucking kill you!" She flailed with her one free arm but he quickly caught it.

"If you do that, Liebchen," he whispered close to her ear, "you kill us both."

"What?" she asked sharply.

"Have you by any chance suffered odd injuries in the past year? Scratches and bites you couldn't quite explain, perhaps?" he asked her sweetly. She stared at him blankly for a second, but then she seemed to understand what he was saying. Her stare turned into an outraged glare. "Don't give me that look, girl. I got period pain, thanks to you," he said with a grimace. God, the very thought… Nobody could ever find out about this.

"Bullshit," she said eventually, but she sounded appalled and reeked of fear and loathing.

With one swift stroke, he opened a gash in his cheek with his fingernail before she could speak again. Sure enough, the same wound appeared on the girl's cheek – and healed a moment later, just like his own, he realised with a start. "What the hell are you?" he growled.

"Well, if we're connected like that, I guess I'm at least part murderous freak," she retorted fiercely. He felt her attempt to throw a Stunner at him – she cast it non-verbally and wandlessly; impressive, for one so young – but of course it had no effect on him.

"How adorable," he told her with a smirk. He looked up suddenly. Macnair was hurrying toward them, wand raised, but Rodolphus sent a Killing Curse at his back. Macnair's mismatched eyes opened wide when the greenish light struck him and he went down without a sound. "Well, there goes Macnair," he muttered. What a shame. He'd had a mind to turn the man for years, but somehow never got around to it. He would have made a decent werewolf.

The girl twisted her head, straining to see behind her, but she was in no position for that. She was struggling more wildly than ever, not even bothering to use magic anymore. Was it the mention of Macnair that prompted the reaction? It didn't matter. More people were noticing them. He had to leave, and fast. "Let me go, you bastard!" she yelled in his ear.

He let out a mirthless, rasping laugh. "Do you really believe I will ever let you out of my sight, little girl?" he murmured softly in response. He straightened up and brought the girl up with him. Just before he Disapparated, he saw her look around frantically until she finally settled on Macnair's corpse. She paled visibly and he received a sudden whiff of hatred, fury, terror and grief all mingled together. On top of that, she now reeked of… guilt? How odd.

Grateful that they didn't share an emotional connection, at least, Fenrir vanished with her just as Bellatrix's exultant whoop resounded in the vast hall.

Finally, some action, Sirius thought. He felt better, more alive than he had in years – in over a decade, really. He evaded his cousin's hex easily by feinting to the right and shot back a Stunner in her direction. They'd been at it for an uncommonly long time; duels rarely lasted more than a few minutes, in his experience. She was as capable as he recalled, and as ready to kill as ever. Another flash of green flew over his head just an instant after he ducked to avoid it.

Bellatrix had always been his least favourite cousin, and there had been competition. How he'd hated family gatherings at his parents' place. The nice people were never invited. He'd never even met his younger cousin, Tonks, until last year, and he barely remembered her mother, his aunt Andromeda, who had been banned from her sister's house when Sirius was just a child.

He kept his focus on Bellatrix but couldn't help an occasional glance around the room. Remus was nearby, with Harry; apparently, they were fighting Lucius Malfoy together. It was difficult to put into words how much Harry reminded him of James. The present situation might as well have been initiated by his late best friend – Prongs would have jumped on his broom without a moment's hesitation and come charging with his wand raised, if he'd believed Sirius to be in danger. He had always been the reckless one, no matter what people thought. He couldn't decide if it made him desperately sad or incredibly happy that Harry was the spitting image of James. To Sirius, it was a constant reminder of what he had lost, but it was also Prongs's legacy – and Lily's. They would have been so proud of their son. Even after all this time, their deaths haunted his dreams. He would see that Peter reaped what he had sowed if it was the last thing he did, he had vowed.

He was a little too slow to evade Bellatrix's next offensive jinx entirely and he felt a burning sensation in his left shoulder – thankfully, not his wand arm. His reflexes were not what they had once been, he had to admit. After twelve years in Azkaban, followed by two years spent idly sitting on his arse, it was hardly surprising, although he'd had a little practice duelling his housemates in the past few months. What was surprising was that his cousin seemed just as quick and responsive as she had been before being imprisoned. Her insanity must be keeping her fit.

He thought something had changed in the room; everybody seemed oddly agitated, but he couldn't afford to spare the rest of them a glance. His whole attention was now directed at his despicable cousin.

He ducked yet another attempt from her to subject him to the Cruciatus Curse and laughed at her. "Come on, you can do better than that!*" he taunted her.

His laughter had distracted him and provided Bellatrix with a perfect opportunity. This time, there was nothing he could do to evade the blazing flash of light. It hit him square in the chest.

His eyes widened in shock.

He hadn't realised how close they were to the ancient-looking archway that stood in the middle of the large chamber. He felt himself fall slowly backward, as if in a dream. He caught a final glimpse of his godson and Moony just before the darkness engulfed him. His last thought was of James and of their imminent reunion, at long, long last.