Grimmauld Place was quieter with the children back at Hogwarts but no less tense with Sirius in a continually bad mood. Bellatrix avoided him, her blood still boiling at the thought of his accusations.

Perhaps Andy was upset with Sirius as well - or maybe she was tired of dealing with his sour mood - because she had stopped trying to coax him to eat dinner with her and Bellatrix since their explosive fight. She and Bellatrix were eating breakfast alone when something fell down the chimney and landed in a puff of soot in the unlit fireplace.

"Errol?" Andy asked. She hurried over to the fireplace, scooped the thing up, brushed it off and brought it over to the table. She set it down and grabbed a saucer of water. As she set the saucer down in front of the sooty lump on the table, it cracked open one large amber eye and hooted feebly.

Bellatrix had never seen such a sorry excuse for an owl. She munched her toast, eying the newspaper it carried.

"Weasleys' owl?" she guessed.

"Don't you start."

"I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. Andy pulled the newspaper from the owl's leg and unfurled it. Her expression darkened, eyes darting back and forth across the front page.

Bellatrix sat up. "What is it?"

Without a word, Andromeda handed her the Prophet. Bellatrix froze halfway through reaching for it, her eyes locked on the image of a familiar wizard. Her gaze flew to the top of the page.

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN, the headline read. MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING POINT" FOR OLD DEATH EATERS.

The Dark Lord had brought his faithful home. His ranks were strengthened, the Ministry scrambling in confusion, panic and fear sewn throughout the population of Wizarding Britain... It was a tremendous victory for her Lord, and she felt a pang of longing, wishing she could be there to celebrate with him, to see their loyalty rewarded. But an uneasy feeling crept up her spine, her eyes falling to the photographs covering the front page.

Sunken faces, gaunt and skeletal bodies, dirty and tangled hair. They were nearly unrecognizable as the people she had fought alongside. One photograph in particular drew her attention. A tall man with broad shoulders, shaggy hair, and a baleful glare. If she had not known him so well she would not have recognized him.

Rodolphus Lestrange, read the caption beneath his photograph, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.

Bellatrix's eyes met Rodolphus's gaze as he glared up at her, and she wondered, Was it worth it? A jolt ran through her, a flash of memory: despairing and injured, watching Andromeda and a little girl while crouched among tall grass, wondering that very same question, of fleeing to outrun her thoughts.

Rodolphus leaned against the frame, and as Bellatrix stared at him, she felt a sense of dread, like walls closing in...

"Bella?"

She looked up, jaw clenched.

"Are you okay?" Andy asked softly.

Bellatrix took the Prophet, scanning the captions for the other photographs. Most of her fellow Death Eaters had been awaiting trial when she had disappeared, and she was curious what their ultimate convictions had been.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked.

"Because I know how you feel about Rodolphus."

Bellatrix shrugged, trying to ignore the creeping dread. If she returned to her Lord, she would be returning to Rodolphus too. That had always been the case, but it hit her then, staring at his photograph. Not wanting to examine those feelings too closely, she turned her attention to the article. Her eyebrows slowly rose as she read Fudge's spin on the breakout.

"'We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin by marriage, Rodolphus Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader.'" She snorted. "What garbage."

Andy watched her for a long moment, and Bellatrix thought she might turn the conversation back to Rodolphus. To her relief, Andy said, "Are they saying you had anything to do with it this time?"

Bellatrix blinked. "What?"

Andy smirked. "The Ministry panicked that you might have resurfaced when Sirius broke out of Azkaban. I had Aurors at my house asking all sorts of questions."

"I thought the Ministry had declared me dead."

"They did. But they never recovered a body so - "

"So they went and dredged up old wounds to cover their incompetence. I see."

"Mostly they asked me questions about Sirius," Andy said. "Cissy and I were both suspected to be potential accomplices. The Aurors were very serious, even when I laughed in their faces."

"You laughed in their faces?"

Andy smiled sadly, eyes dimming. "At the time, I believed that Sirius had turned traitor."

Bellatrix frowned and dropped her eyes back to the article, skimming it, grateful that her ability to read had come back more quickly than her speech, even if she could not yet read as quickly as she once had. "Ah. They do mention me. 'While the Ministry publicly denies Bellatrix Lestrange's involvement in the breakout of her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, there were rumors that she assisted Black in his escape two years ago. Lestrange is believed to have died from injuries sustained in a fight with Aurors in October of nineteen eighty one, but her body was never recovered by the Ministry.' Died in a fight with Aurors?" Bellatrix snorted and tossed the Prophet onto the table. "I shouldn't be surprised that's all they have to say about it. Still, I'm insulted. As if a simple fight with Aurors could take me down."

Andy absentmindedly picked up her fork and pushed her eggs around her plate while gazing at Bellatrix thoughtfully. "Narcissa was furious. She helped to end a few careers that year."

"Anyone interesting?"

"Barty Crouch Sr, as I understand it."

Bellatrix smirked. "Impressive."

"It wasn't only what happened with the Aurors and Draco, of course. His son turning out to be a Death Eater didn't help either."

Bellatrix's smirk faded. "I noticed his son wasn't one of the followers the Dark Lord broke out of Azkaban." Her eyes dropped to the front page of the Prophet . "What happened to him?"

"Oh. I thought you knew...but of course, you probably don't remember..."

"Remember what?" Bellatrix tossed her head irritably.

Andromeda explained how Barty Crouch Sr had helped break his son out of Azkaban and kept him hidden and controlled until the previous year, how Barty Crouch Jr had taken Mad Eye Moody's place at Hogwarts, manipulated the Triwizard Tournament and helped bring the Dark Lord back to power.

Bellatrix listened quietly. She remembered a loud and restless night on a mountain with Sirius, watching the brightly lit Hogwarts grounds. A searing pain in her leg, and a voice urging her home. A man wailing in the night.

"Hm. I knew he had a spine in there somewhere. But why didn't the Dark Lord break him out of Azkaban?"

Andromeda's face darkened. "Because Fudge insisted on bringing a Dementor into Hogwarts."

A shiver ran up Bellatrix's spine. The Dementors Kiss. "I see."

"Were you...close to him?" Andromeda asked awkwardly.

Bellatrix chuckled half-heartedly. "Not particularly. He was a bit spineless. Had potential, though." She refrained from saying, Good on him for finally realizing it. A shame the Dark Lord lost such a valuable follower.

Andromeda cleared her throat, and Bellatrix wondered if she had some idea of the thoughts on her mind.

Bellatrix casually flipped through the pages of the Prophet, curious about the going ons of the world outside and looking for a change of topic. On page ten, she paused, skimming a short article.

"Hm. Ministry worker killed by Devil's Snare in a potted plant at St Mungo's. Place has really gone downhill, hasn't it?"

"Most things have." Andromeda reached across the table and plucked the Prophet from Bellatrix's hands. "Who was the worker?"

"Someone named Bode. Wonder who he pissed off."

"Whoever it was, they were clever enough to hide their tracks." Andromeda frowned at the article.

Bellatrix leaned on her arms on the table. "I take it you have some thoughts?"

"Not really, no. Perhaps I'll talk to Arthur about it the next time I see him." Andy flipped to the next page. "Hm. Looks like Dower's Fantastical Household Cleaners is going out of business. They're having a sale... Fifty percent off everything."

It was a clear signal that Andromeda wanted to change topics, and Bellatrix accepted it. "Going to take advantage?"

"Gods, no. They're going out of business for a reason. Their products are awful, we had to replace the whole couch..."

Bellatrix snorted.


The next month did not pass any easier. Narcissa's visits grew more scarce, and Sirius's continued bad mood took its toll on Andromeda, who started arranging for Dora to come stay with Bellatrix a few nights a week while Andromeda went to visit her husband. Bellatrix spent most of her time as a wolf in order to dull her thoughts and emotions. Her frustrations grew with every passing day.

Sirius continued to avoid her while Andromeda was around, and while Andy was away, Dora and Remus, by apparent silent agreement, did their best to keep them apart. Bellatrix wondered when Dora and Remus had become such good friends. Perhaps they always had been.

To soothe herself, Bellatrix focused on plans to escape Grimmauld Place. With her memories and faculties returned to her (or mostly returned) and with her wand safely hidden on her person, she could tackle the problem of the wards Dumbledore had placed on the house to prevent her from leaving. It was not something she had noticed while a wolf, but it was something she examined more closely while Andy was gone on Valentine's Day, and Dora was distracted drinking and playing Exploding Snap with Remus and Sirius.

The charms would first redirect her attention if she got too close to the door with the intention of leaving. If she successfully fought through it, the handle would refuse to turn. No matter what she tried, it did not budge. She could open the windows, but when she tried to reach her arm through, the very air seemed to thicken and coalesce around it until she struggled to push forward even a hair's breadth more. The pressure around her arm grew painful, and she was forced to pull it back inside the house.

She suspected if she attempted to leave out the front door, should she manage to get it open, she would meet with a similar barrier.

She had been able to leave Grimmauld Place before, taken out of the house by Andromeda after she had been attacked by the ghoul. Perhaps she could convince Dora to let her out, catch her by surprise with a Stunner, and make her escape...

Andy would be furious, but Dora would not be hurt. Still... As eager as Bellatrix was to escape Grimmauld Place, she forced herself to wait. Her best bet would be to form a plan with Narcissa. She had promised not to do anything rash or foolish. With the Dark Lord's plan yet to be executed, perhaps she was most useful where she was, positioned within Order headquarters, for the time being.

Another two weeks passed, and Narcissa did not visit Grimmauld Place. Andromeda grew restless. Even if she did not broach the topic of Narcissa's absence, Bellatrix knew she suspected something big was happening. What else would keep Narcissa away?

The uneasy stalemate was broken one morning near the end of February when Remus returned to Grimmauld Place, a magazine rolled up in his hand. He dropped it on the kitchen table and sank into a chair. There were deep bags under his eyes.

Bellatrix eyed him. He had been out all night on "guard duty". She had not been able to determine what, exactly, they were guarding, though it was obvious to her whatever it was resided at the Ministry in the Department of Secrets. That did little to narrow down what her Lord desired, however.

As she poked at her eggs with her fork, she watched Andy put a plate in front of him.

"The Quibbler?" Andy asked. "What is Sirius now? A long lost prince of some far off kingdom?"

Bellatrix snorted. "He's certainly a royal ass."

Remus picked up the Quibbler. "Harry gave an interview. About the night Voldemort returned."

Bellatrix's gaze snapped up from her plate. Her body went still and tense, eyes focused on the magazine.

"The Ministry will love that," Andy said wryly. "So whose journalistic career went up in smoke?"

Remus smiled, tired eyes sparkling with amusement. "Rita Skeeter."

Andy balked. "What was he thinking? After everything she wrote about him last year?"

"I'm not sure, but it's a shockingly straight forward interview." Remus handed her the paper. "See for yourself."

Andy yanked the pages apart and scanned the article, eyes darting back and forth, eyebrows steadily rising. "How on earth did he convince Rita Skeeter to do actual journalism?"

"Blackmail, probably," Bellatrix said, trying to sound casual. "Unless she's changed radically since our time at Hogwarts..."

Andy snorted. "Hardly. She's worse, if anything."

"Blackmail seems unlikely from Harry, but perhaps a member of the Order... Mundungus, perhaps?"

Andy frowned thoughtfully. "She's been quiet for a while now, come to think of it... She hasn't written anything since before the last task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament..."

"Blackmail then. Or a bribe. May I read the article?" Bellatrix asked.

Despite her casual tone, Andy eyed her suspiciously.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, rested her elbow on the table and held her hand open. "Don't give me that look. Honestly, what damage can I do with an interview?"

"That's not what I'm worried about," Andy muttered.

"There is nothing in the interview that she does not already know," Remus said evenly.

Andy frowned.

Ah, Bellatrix thought, struck by a realization. Andy did not trust her to read about the Dark Lord. Perhaps she feared the feelings that might be sparked in Bella by reading an account of her Lord returning to his full glory. Shrewd. Perceptive. Cunning.

But I'm better, Bellatrix thought, keeping her expression carefully annoyed but confused.

At length, Andy relented. She handed Bellatrix the Quibbler without a word.

Trying to keep her excitement from showing, she flicked open the magazine. She hungered to hear more about her Lord. Soon, however, she discovered a difficulty she had not anticipated: she had been wrong about her ability to read coming back more quickly than her speech. The words on the page made little sense at times, a collection of letters without meaning. With effort, the words came back to her, but it was slow going. It was difficult to maintain her neutral expression as her frustration mounted.

Like her ability to speak, it seemed her ability to read had good days and bad days. She would have to practice. How utterly infuriating.

Despite her difficulties, she devoured the article, her heart pounding in her chest. Potter portrayed her Lord's return as something terrible and horrific, but her admiration and awe grew. She wished she could speak with her Lord about the magicks used, how they worked, understand the ins and outs and the hows and whys of his resurrection. Less pleasant were the references to Peter Pettigrew. She had picked up on Pettigrew's survival long ago, though it had taken time for its significance to seep through her forgotten memories.

It took some effort to keep her anger and shame off her face, and she suspected, from the way Andy shifted in her seat, as if suddenly restless, that she had not entirely succeeded. How had she let that happen? Her Lord at the mercy of that cowardly sniveling rat... It was Pettigrew's fault her Lord had been so grievously injured in the first place, he who sent her Lord after the Potters without adequately warning him.

And she... she had been running around the forest no better than an animal for a decade...

She reached the end of the article, feeling a pang of regret at Barty Crouch Jr's death again. He had deserved a better fate as a proper pureblood son and for his service to the Dark Lord. A place at their Lord's side or, at the very least, a glorious death in battle. Not left a hollow shell as good as dead but uselessly alive. She carelessly tossed the magazine onto the table in front of Andy.

Andy eyed her warily. "Well, what did you think?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "There wasn't much there I didn't know. A few details, but not much besides."

Andy's suspicion did not appear to ease. Smart, Bellatrix begrudgingly admitted, but annoying all the same. She needed to change the conversation. It wouldn't do to let Andromeda linger on the subject of her loyalties too long.

Bellatrix turned to Remus. "Do you think Potter's plan will work?" She glanced at the cover of the Quibbler again. "Isn't this the same garbage rag that printed a story about Sirius being innocent because he was...what was it?" Vaguely she recalled laying at Andy's feet as a wolf, watching Sirius and Andy howl with laughter over a ridiculous article. "A famous musician, wasn't it?"

Remus's lips twitched. "Yes, it was. But the Prophet would never print this, and the Ministry's account of the most recent Azkaban breakout has a few holes in it. People will be looking for answers."

"Clever boy," Bellatrix murmured. "Too clever. Calm down, Remus, I'm not insulting the boy. He isn't stupid, but would he really have come up with this plan on his own?"

"Harry hates the attention. No, I would say it was more likely to be one of his friends who talked him into it."

Hermione, Bellatrix thought. Hermione was certainly clever enough for a plan like exploiting the weakness of the Ministry's cover up. A pang of loneliness and longing ached in her chest.

Andy glanced at her curiously as if something of her feelings had shown on her face, and Bellatrix turned back to her neglected breakfast, nibbling on a piece of toast.