30th April 1971

Sirius sat on Andromeda's bed in silence as her cousin brushed her hair. She didn't normally like to be babied, nor treated like a doll, but her cousin liked to do her hair; unlike the thick curls of Bellatrix and Andromeda, Sirius' hair was sleek and smooth.

This was one of the rare occasions she had let Andromeda do what she wanted with it, a choice which she was fast regretting, as her cousin wasn't exactly being gentle.

Andromeda was angry, no, furious. Sirius wasn't the best pleased herself. It had all started earlier that day, when a letter, written by Rodolphus, was delivered at breakfast.

I regret to inform you that Bellatrix has suffered a miscarriage and lost the child. Rest assured that we aim to have another baby as soon as possible, so it is no catastrophe. I would invite you to visit, but Bellatrix is currently in a very difficult and trying state of mind and refuses to have visitors. I'm sure you know what I mean, having lived with her for so long. My apologies on her behalf.
Rodolphus F. Lestrange.

Obviously, this had annoyed Andromeda greatly, and Sirius too, especially when Narcissa failed to take her sister's side in the matter and stayed out of it all. Dromeda said that Cissy was just too concerned with being the perfect pureblood girl and they shouldn't hold it against her, though if that involved distancing herself from her more wild sisters and cousin then Sirius certainly would.

Andromeda had apparated them both to the Lestrange's house - a rather bleak but large and imposing building in the middle of the Yorkshire moors - in an attempt to comfort Bellatrix, seeing as no one else had bothered. They had discovered that Rodolphus had, in fact, gone out, leaving Bella alone with his family, who were all sat having a nice lunch.

"Bellatrix is upstairs," The elderly Mrs Lestrange had said, wearing a weary expression that bespoke her exasperation with the situation. "I'm sure Rodolphus informed you she's in a... difficult state,"

"She just lost a baby," Andromeda had replied flatly. "Have some concern,"

The older woman had scoffed slightly.

"I've always said the Blacks raise their daughters to be too bold," She said with the air of a wise sage, sipping her wine. "A wonder you didn't all go to Gryffindor at Hogwarts, seeing as you've all got such nasty tempers and seem unable to conceal them. Walburga has always been the same," She glanced at Sirius. "You'll be the worst of the lot - Black twice over. I know marrying well is hard in this day and age but really, first cousins?"

"Mother," Her daughter Rhiannon Lestrange, a permanently anxious-looking woman at least ten years older than Bellatrix, shot her a pointed look. "Remember how we spoke of keeping some things to ourselves?" Particular around the Blacks was implied. Sirius was old enough to know her family had a reputation even amongst the pureblood elite.

"I'm not senile yet, Rhia," Mrs Lestrange snapped. "No need to chastise me,"

"Rhiannon is right," Andromeda cut in, voice icy cold. She could do the best impression of Sirius' father out of any of them. She let the silence hang in the air a few seconds. "Could you direct me to Bellatrix's bedroom?"

They summoned the house elf to do it instead.

The hallway leading to Bella's room was silent, ominously so. However the moment Andromeda carefully opened the door the elf directed them to - revealing that a muffling spell had been placed on the room - all hell broke loose.

Sirius didn't really care to remember the terrible state that Bellatrix was in. It had been truly frightening. Mad with grief was the only way to describe her. She had shrieked and sobbed and yelled, her hair and robes a mess, half the furniture in tatters from her grief. Andromeda had finally left, hastily ushering Sirius out, when Bellatrix had threatened to curse them both if they didn't leave her be.

"See what I mean," Old Mrs Lestrange had called out rather smugly as they tried to leave. "That goes beyond grief. Madness, I'd call it. You Blacks like to boast about having older bloodlines than the rest of us, are proud of following the savage old ways, but it didn't do the Gaunts any good when they went insane, did it? Marry enough cousins and the seeds of madness start to show,"

"No one cares, you poisonous old hag," Sirius, shaken from seeing her cousin like that, had snapped back.

Andromeda had let out a rather choked laugh and apparated them back to London. Aunt Druella had made some vaguely concerned enquiry about Bella, which her cousin had ignored, whisking them both upstairs.

"The trouble is," She now said to Sirius, who winced as Andromeda pulled a tangle particularly sharply. "Bella is always alone in that house, whether Rodolphus and his vile family are there or not. Her husband isn't her friend - they tolerate each other at best - and there's no one else on her side there. That baby would've changed that. You saw how excited she was,"

That was true. Underneath it all, though she tried to hide it, it was clear that Bellatrix had been unexpectedly eager to become a mother.

"I heard her having conversations with the baby," Andromeda continued, biting her lip. "She almost got to know it as a real person. That child was the one thing in that house she loved, and now it's gone. Likely along with the minuscule bit of softness left in her,"

Sirius, for once, didn't know what to say. A loss this great couldn't have done Bellatrix any good, and despite what she had said to Mrs Lestrange, it did seem like her cousin was driving herself mad.

When they finally saw Bella again, over a month later, things were no less grim. Worst of all, no one else seem to realise but Sirius and Andromeda.

During that month, Andromeda had gone to the Lestrange's house countless times to talk to Bellatrix; alone, with Narcissa, even Aunt Druella, but each attempt ended in either a blank refusal to see them, or a cold, stilted conversation.

Bellatrix had changed. Though she may not be that screaming harridan anymore, she no longer laughed the same, or made stupid jokes, and didn't even smirk that leering smirk that Sirius hated; she was simply proud, impatient and angry. Angry more so than anything else. So angry that her eyes flashed dangerously at the simplest things. Andromeda told Sirius it was grief, but it seemed more insidious than that.

Sirius was also noticing how much more stressed Andromeda herself was. She seemed restless, and paranoid, and though Bellatrix was clearly affecting her deeply, Sirius wasn't so sure that was all there was to it.