No one was in the house. The sky had been looking ready to fall for several days, but the disappearing time to get things done had pushed all members to brave the chance of rain and to go about their chores. Uncle Orion was with Regulus at Diagon Alley, buying supplies for Hogwarts, while Aunt Walburga had gone off to visit a friend. As for Sirius, well, being sorted into Gryffindor sure was molding him into a nasty sort. He spent most of his time at the Potters, and their liberal ideas of society and politics were certainly rubbing off on him.
Kreacher allowed her in and happily went to prepare a cup of warm tea. She would not need it, however; she did not plan to stay for very long.
Bellatrix made her way to the spare room at the end of the back hallway. She knew what she would find in that room: the whole of Black ancestry strung across a large tapestry that filled the entire room. It was a tiny space, not nearly large enough to function as a bedroom or sitting room. Resembling a large broom closet, the room had been perfect to hold the lineage of Black. There was the familiar, musky scent to the room – she remembered it well.
She paid little attention to where she was going, and yet she became aware of standing exactly where she had to be. Had it really only been seven months ago since she had succeeded in her quandary? Had it really only been seven months since she had last entered this room? It had seemed so much longer. Yet her feet remembered the path well and took her to stand directly before the section of the tapestry that needed tending.
Cygnus's head was regal and unsmiling, gazing at her with intense dark eyes, a silver double line connected her father's avatar to that of her mother's. Her name, Druella, was written in perfect calligraphy beneath her head. A silver line stemmed from the double line that symbolized the legal marriage of Cygnus and Druella Black to connect three other heads: Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa.
Yes, it had taken her several attempts, but Bellatrix had finally succeeded in undoing her aunt's spell. Yes, she had at last been able to return Andromeda to the tapestry. Yes, she had acknowledged Andromeda to still be a part of the family – her family.
But no longer.
Bellatrix pulled her wand out from her robes, eyes never straying from the icon that represented Andromeda's part in the family of Black. She had no right to belong to this family when she had turned her back on them all. She had no right to any inheritance when she had smeared her name and shamed her values. She had no right to Bellatrix's respect when she had left without a word, without a farewell. She had no right to Bella's love when she had abandoned her sisters in favor for a Mudblood.
The dark-haired woman lifted her wand and slashed it through the air, her insides roaring as she cut Andromeda from her life, removing any evidence or hope that she would return. Because she would not. The younger daughter had chosen, and it was time for the other two to acknowledge and accept it.
Walburga's spell had been strong but had eventually been undone. Bellatrix was stronger than her aunt; she knew that no one would be able to undo this final decision, this final tear in the relationship of the three sisters Black. When her Aunt Walburga had walked away from the room, her work had sizzled and burned brown.
Bellatrix's hissed and burned black.
**edited**