Apologies for not updating sooner. Was in Mexico, aha ha.
Lash
Bellatrix wove her fingers together, gritting her teeth, her eyes drawing shut. The words of power flared in her head. The wand in her belt remained untouched; wands were for fighting wizards, or for creature whose defensive charms she knew.
This was not an animal. This was living, breathing, and intelligent. It kept to her steps with ease, no matter how difficult the terrain. Her fingers tightened around each other. Her palms were sweaty from more than the heat of the sun, which had not moved an inch in the sky since she had been in the clearing with the treacherous pond.
She kept to the path after awhile, preferring it to the dark mugginess of the deep forest. She liked the sunlight, even if it was unnatural. Bella had always loved the sun.
Her molars ground against each other, slipping and sliding to the side, sending grating vibrations into her skull. Concentrate. Don't turn around. Concentrate.
Voldemort's hands - beautiful, pianist hands, which could alternately strangle you or perform Mozart - motioning gracefully in the air. Anaad, he had said. The very word caused the air to simmer a little, like waves of heat in the desert. Anaad, Bellatrix, he had said, tracing an outline of the mark in the air. Fire.
It had been so long since she had delved into her own head, to wake up the old things that Voldemort had put there long ago. He had told her she had so much potential to be something great; awe-inspiring, earth-shattering. You are made, he said, of the old ways.
Anaad was fire. Bilisia was anger. Gustus was breath.
Bellatrix wove the marks together in her head just as she wove her fingers together, twining and lacing and gripping. Then she turned on her heel, facing her stalker, and threw her locked hands forward, her mouth opening to let out a long, nearly soundless shriek as the fire raced out of her throat and heart and eyes and down her fingertips.
.x.
Severus ran even though the breath was tearing painfully down and throughout his throat and the skirts of his robes clung wetly to his legs. And, as he ran, he became aware of how close he was to the oak tree.
The tree was obviously a site of Power, for the spring water had been powerful, just as he had hoped. Not only that, but Severus could already feel it in his mind, as if he were a blind man making his way sightlessly through a house he had lived in long ago.
As he ran, ignoring the sounds of pursuit at his back, he drew his knife across the palm of his left hand, slicing the skin apart in one quick motion. Ceremonies always called for blood - it was basic knowledge, one that Severus had acquired as a child. Bindings, banishings, blessings - all required blood as the sacrifice… and breathe, and sweat. Magic was deeper than they taught it at Hogwarts. But the deeper the magic went, the Darker it tended to be labelled.
Tree branches whipped at him as he ran, not daring to stop, no matter how his muscles screamed or his feet ached or his lungs blazed. He had to get there. He would think of what to do after.
There was a warmth in the air, a beautiful golden warmth that seemed to soothe Severus, and energize him. He was getting closer, he knew it, as the greenery whipped past and the screech of his hunters faded in the rush of blood in his head, he was getting closer, he was nearly there…
He was there.
He stumbled along the mossy ground, flung himself against the tree, drawing in ragged breaths of air. He slapped his palm against the trunk, feeling the roughness of the bark on his open wound, the blood trickling down the soft inside of his wrist and into the wrinkles in the wood.
He wanted to break the binding, he wanted to be safe, he wanted Regulus so dearly… that that was what he got.
And then something very odd happened.
.x.
Bellatrix blacked out.
.x.
Severus didn't know how to describe it, so didn't bother. He had gone as far as comparing it to a silent explosion where nothing exploded at all, except for his head, before giving up.
Besides that, there was Regulus to think about.
Regulus had always been a very beautiful boy - it seemed that if you were a Black, you were beautiful by default. In fact, you were more than beautiful… you were beauty in its highest form, the lovechild of the minds of Michelangelo and da Vinci.
And he hadn't aged a single day from his tender nineteen, ever since his apparent death. His soft black hair hung in his eyes, which were warm and the dark, dark brown of strong chocolate, and he looked as young and unsure as he always had when faced with difficult situations. He clutched his robes to himself - the robes of a fully-fledged Death Eater, which looked out-of-place on him - looking confused and surprised, though mostly surprised.
Severus had expected this. It had been several decades since they had last seen each other, after all. Severus didn't exactly look as young as he used to.
Severus' black eyes drew away from Regulus' pale, aristocratic face to their surroundings. Stepping stones set deeply into the mossy ground glowed faintly with the etchings of old magic, and beyond them, in the darkness of the trees, the creatures waited. Severus could see them with his magical sight, but he knew Regulus couldn't. He also knew Regulus probably wanted to draw closer for comfort, but dared not to.
The stars were sharp and cold overhead.
"Severus," Regulus ventured softly, after a moment. "Why are you all wet?"
.x.
Bellatrix came to with a face full of grass, the lush green of it filling her mouth and nostrils and mind. Hesitantly, she got to her hands and knees, looking around for her pursuer, then felt a rush of dizziness and immediately passed out again.
.x.
Far away, Nymphadora Tonks quietly let herself into her godfather's house.
She would have been an unusual appearance in the neighbourhood, which was old and wealthy and stately, if it weren't for the fact she was around quite often during the summer. Her hair shone a bright, tropical orange and pink in the sun, and the chains at her hip jangled as she walked.
She placed the key back in her pocket, and closed the door behind her. If she paid attention she could feel the wards in the door weaving themselves back together after having admitted her, prepared to block anyone who was not allowed within. Severus had always been a very careful person when it came to his house - nothing could get in without his blessing.
Tonks had that blessing, of course.
She noticed it, almost right away - the faint, lingering presence of a woman. It made her feel faintly uncomfortable. Sure, Severus had always had his share of women - it was surprising how charming he could be, and how attractive he could appear to the right kind of girl. Tonks had often walked right into the house to find someone roughly her age, sporting dyed jet-black hair or several nose rings or something of the sort, sitting at the kitchen table drinking a beer. Sometimes there would be bright conversation, but most of the time the current girlfriend would just snap, 'Who the fuck are you?'
But this was a different kind of woman, a different kind of presence. This was familiar. Tonks stopped in the middle of the living room, trying to soak it in. Old, faintly familiar. So very, very faint and familiar.
Her mother, Andromeda, had always said, 'My sister… would always leave a kind of… stamp… in the room. Not of herself, but how she felt.' A pause. 'She was so emotional.'
Tonks remembered being very, very little, and she remembered seeing her aunt's thoughtful face - pale and sharp and lovely, so like her sister's, but so unlike her as well. 'She's an alright kid,' Bella had admitted. Tonks could remember something in the air that time; a sadness, an ache, but a joy. She had always remembered it; somehow it was more important than the words exchanged.
'Thanks, Bella,' Andromeda had responded, dry as ever. That was the last time Andromeda had seen Bella, before Regulus had died.
Andromeda had refused to attend the funeral.
Bellatrix had been here.
Tonks knew it with unsettling certainty. And it would explain a lot - Severus' sudden absence, mainly. Tonks hurried to the kitchen and found, upon the table, a piece of paper.
'GONE' it spelt out in scratchy pencil.
"Why thank you," Tonks said, crumbling it up and lobbing it at the wall. "That helped loads."
She glanced about her with some helplessness. Severus was known to up and leave at times, but not without at least calling Tonks first to make sure the goldfish were fed.
Christ, the fish.
She immediately rushed back to the living room to feed them, and spent five minutes watching them dart about, happily feasting. Severus was not exactly a pet person, but he liked goldfish since they didn't talk back. Besides, they were easier to take care of than, say, the dog, who was still romping about at Narcissa Malfoy's.
The place still smelt of Bellatrix. It had to be Bellatrix. Tonks scratched worriedly at one of the studs in her eyebrow. Bellatrix had done something to Severus and now they were both gone.
The phone started to ring.
