The following has a violence warning attached to it.
Chapter Seventeen: Something Wicked This Way Comes
The man walked, as he had done many times before, through the tunnels of the dungeons of the Lestrange manor. He had, of course, failed to collect the Williams girl, but that was irrelevant. The balance, once again, was shifting, and this time it was his side that would benefit. The Darkness would win, this time.
Finally, he reached the room that housed the Dark Lord, Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Greetings, Death Eater," she said, and rose to her feet. "Have you brought us victorious tidings?"
He smiled, for her time was running out and she was, as expected, completely oblivious. "I'm afraid not, my lord."
"You would dare encroach my house without the body of Williams?"
"It hardly seems relevant anymore."
Bellatrix rose to her feet indignantly. "What did you just say?"
"Hmm, yes, I remember now. Smaller words. I said, my lord--" he stressed the title mockingly, "-- that it doesn't matter what your orders are. I've completed my mission."
"You have not!" Bellatrix's voice grew in volume and became shrill. "Your mission was to bring back the body of the young Healer, not to come back here and play games with me."
He chuckled. "I assure you, I am not playing games."
The hard, wicked light in his eyes both frightened and excited Bellatrix. "That's marvelous, for neither am I."
"Of the two of us," the man said, and began to approach her with slow, methodical steps, "I think it is you that does not realize the graveness of the situation that you have placed yourself in."
"I see no 'situation', Ares, and to be quite honest, I think you've gone just a bit mad."
"Mad? No, I'm perfectly sane. I'm still aware of my own gender, at least."
"Have a care. I will summon my Death Eaters to me."
Ares laughed. "You are making the assumption, my lord, that your Death Eaters are still loyal to you. That is an assumption I would not make, in your place."
Bellatrix's face grew pale. "You lie!"
"No, I'm being perfectly honest, for once. Take nothing for
granted, my lord."
Bellatrix's face worked itself into a horrific twist of pain and fear. "I am the Dark Lord's chosen heir!"
"Nonsense. Draco Malfoy was his chosen heir, and now that poor fool has departed from us. Sad, isn't it?"
"I don't like your tone, young man."
"Then change it. Make me do something, for once. Use your magic on me, my lord. Prove yourself."
Bellatrix's lips drew together and she shook her head desperately.
"Ah, so you have, at last, realized the truth. Your Dark Magic is killing you, isn't it? Nasty little virus. It will probably be the end of the wizarding world. How terribly sad."
"You know nothing."
"On the contrary, madam, I know everything." Ares began to walk a wide circle around Bellatrix. "You really have let yourself go. Your hair is a mess…" He fingered what had once been deep and rich and beautiful, but now was stringy and gray. "Your face droops, your chest sags… Whatever would the true Dark Lord think of you now?"
"How dare you speak to me that way!"
"I will speak to you, my lord, in any manner that I wish. There is, after all, nothing you can do to stop me. One more spell will kill you."
Bellatrix spat. "You can't know that for sure."
"As the inventor of that 'little virus' that you've been complaining of for some time, yes, I believe I can," Ares sneered, and then leaned close to the woman who had been Voldemort's right hand, and whispered in her ear. "You see, that doesn't matter now, either, for I am about to kill you."
Bellatrix opened her mouth to scream, but Ares stopped her with an over large hand. "Now, now, none of that. Be a brave Death Eater, now."
She struggled, kicked and bit, tried to reach her wand but couldn't. Ares now had her locked in a position from which she could not escape. He looked into her terrified eyes, and began to laugh. Suddenly, he rose to his feet, dragging her with him, and with one final look, he raised her high into the air, and brought her head crashing down onto the throne that had been hers.
Blood flowed, a river of it, covering the entire chair with scarlet embroidery.
Ares turned the head of Bellatrix Lestrange, and made it to face himself. Tenderly, he kissed her left cheek, and then her right. Just as suddenly, he dropped her body to the floor, and wiped his hands of the mess on her own dress.
"Good-bye, mother," he whispered, "I shall see you in hell." Softly, as if an afterthought, he said to himself, "And I didn't need any damned magic, either."
**
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Thus we were made, thus we shall return. Blessed be the name of the LORD." Mr. Druesdel's voice droned on and on, flowing like waves over the funeral attendees. His monotonous tone had not changed since he had wed Remus and Anna, many years before.
Now, at the cemetery, Anna leaned heavily on Harry, who stood on her right. Behind her stood her son, with a small girl she didn't know, but whose magical aura she could sense in a way that she hadn't been able to do anyone in a very long time.
"Into Your hands we commit his spirit, O Lord. May he rest in peace with You, with Your son, forever and ever."
The assembly answered, "Amen."
Before they lowered the coffin to the ground, the family made their final goodbyes. Sirius and Anna went first, kneeling at the site, joined at the hands.
After a time, Sirius whispered, "Come on, dear, there's nothing more we can do for him now."
Anna nodded, for the first time in a while, tears began to stream from his face. "I… I…" she started, but could not finish her thought.
Gently, Orion came behind her and lifted her elbows. Raising her to her feet, he caught in her in a strong embrace, very much like his father's. "It's all right, Mum. It's all right."
The girl behind him wept also, for a man she had never known. But she could feel his pain rising from the grave in a very real way. Even she, Delia knew, could not have Healed him, but perhaps she could have helped, in some way.
Harry and Ginny and all of the children knelt next, a solid unit of strength. Delia realized then, as the rest of the congregation watched them, just what the Potter family meant to the rest of the wizarding world.
They were hope, they were strength.
Behind her, Sirius began to cough, a terrible wracking sound that made Delia's heart hurt. On, impulse, she walked to him and laid a hand on his arm. "Be quiet," she whispered to some unknown foe. "Now is not the time for you. Let him grieve in peace."
Just as suddenly as he had started, he stopped, and he looked down at her, amazed. Before he could say anything, the Potters rose, again, as one. The Granger-Weasley family was next.
Sirius found that a protective circle was being formed around Anna and him, and that made him feel warm, and loved. Raina stepped up to his side then.
"Are you all right?"
He nodded. "I think… I think it was time for him to go. Every day that he was here was more painful than the last. This way, at least, he's free."
In a compartment of his heart, Orion agreed. He just couldn't find a way to deal with it just now. Harry, his godfather, placed a hand on his right shoulder, and then addressed the group.
"There's no need for us to stand out here," he said, his voice soft, but carrying as it always was. "Remus would have wanted us to enjoy the meal the wonderful ladies at the church have provided."
There was a murmur of agreement, and the crowd moved in that direction. Harry and Ginny were walking, their hands full of children, and Ron and Hermione joined them, having left their two with a babysitter.
Orion and Delia paused a moment, until everyone else had left.
"He was very strong, wasn't he?" Delia asked, and then knelt on the ground.
"He had to be."
Delia raised her eyes and captured his in a way that no one else could. "Perhaps you ought to consider that his strength came, not only from within, but from the love of those around him. Even if he never felt worthy, he still accepted the friendship and caring of those who were close to him."
"Is that a hint?" Orion asked, sharply.
"I wouldn't dare be so bold," Delia drawled sarcastically.
Orion winced. "Point taken."
Delia rose to her feet shakily. "Let's go, quickly. I can't take much more of this."
Orion grasped her arm, and then swung her up to carry her. "Better?"
"Much." Delia smiled. "This way, if I pass out, at least I won't fall."
"You have a very dry sense of humour," Orion informed her. "No regrets?"
Delia shrugged. "No, not at all. I'm happy with the choice I made."
"Being life bonded to me doesn't bother you?"
"Of course it does. I lie awake at night wondering at my bad fortune in bagging someone like you."
Orion raised his eyebrows. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you."
Delia laughed. "Point taken."
"Let's go before they get too worried about us."
Delia nodded. "I'll just let you say good-bye to your father in private, then."
Orion nodded and set Delia gently to the ground then knelt down. "Well, Dad, I guess that this really is goodbye, since you didn't send for me at the end. I can understand that. Neither one of us ever liked long, drawn out goodbyes. I just want you to know that I… I love you. I miss you, and hopefully, I'll see you in a few decades."
He stood then, and took Delia's arm. Anyone taking the time to look at them would have found it odd, that a sixteen-year-old boy and an eleven-year-old girl were walking like two people in love, but it was not strange to them. They walked, as they found it easiest to walk, in step.
"You saw Sirius," Orion said suddenly, as they were still several blocks from the church. "Can you Heal him?"
Delia sighed. "I think I can. It's convincing him to trust me that's going to be the hard part."
Orion nodded. "I think it's the whole 'going to Azkaban without a trial' thing. He doesn't trust outsiders easily. I'm surprised he's taken up with Commander O'Reilly, but then again, maybe I'm not."
Easily, Delia saw inside his head and blushed furiously. "Don't think those things at me."
A well of laughter bubbled up inside of him. "I shall strive to cut down on thinking."
"That's not what I meant and you know it," Delia snapped at him playfully. "Come on now, we have to be somber for this feast."
"Did you have to remind me?"
"Yes. It wouldn't look good for you to come to your father's funeral dinner laughing, would it?"
"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Orion said, and released her arm reluctantly.
"Remember, not a word," Delia said strongly. "Not a one."
"I promise, I'll keep it quiet. Neither one of us wants to explain this."
"Exactly," Delia said, and nodded her head empathetically. "Especially not to your mother. She sees right through me… It's almost scary."
Orion chuckled. "I know exactly what you mean. I had to grow up with that."
Delia almost shuddered. "I can't imagine."
Orion's brow crinkled, and he realized then just how bad Delia's life had been up to that point. "It wasn't bad at all, actually. I never had to explain what I'd done, just deal with the consequences, except for when she wanted to teach me a lesson."
Delia smiled. "Your mother deliberately taught you lessons? For shame."
They then reached the church door and stopped, altogether.
Finally, Orion cleared his throat. "Onward, Christian soldiers," he muttered, and swung open the door.
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