in which strange things happen.
XIV
Bellatrix avoided him.
She knew he wouldn't leave - he couldn't, not without leaving her alone with what could be dozens of informative documents she could plunder for her master's cause. And there was no one to contact for help. Lupin was on his own.
But there was something strange going on, she realised. It hit her strongly as she moved through a corridor, behind the sitting room wall, and suddenly, for no reason, she couldn't breathe.
The darkness crawled through her nostrils and mouth and squirmed in her lungs, clawed at her stomach. Her body seized up, and then it was wracked by coughs, and dust was everywhere, in her eyes and ears and even between her teeth. She dropped her wand.
The house heaved, and she struck the wall of the corridor. Little stars of pulsing light burst in her vision. The papers she'd managed to steal - the ones from the kitchen, and more she'd found stashed in an old wardrobe - crinkled loudly beneath her sweater, as if trying to get free.
I am a Black, she thought. This is my house.
She clawed at the walls, blind, and suffocating.
x
There was something strange going on.
Remus tensed, and listened, his heart beating a frantic pace. The walls were creaking - the whole house was creaking, as if it were alive. Maybe it was.
A sudden movement made him whip around, but it was only Kreacher - the thin, scrawny, decrepit house elf. He shifted into view, giving Remus a baleful glare with watery eyes.
Remus said nothing.
Kreacher said, "The Noble House of Black-"
x
He was your husband and you loved him.
x
The wall exploded outwards.
No, not exploded, Remus realised - but a door, a hidden door, was thrown wide, and out toppled Bellatrix, covered in dirt, her face streaked wet with grime where the dust had met her sweat.
She gasped and dragged herself upright, her hair in her face. She looked around, terrified - but she can't see, Remus saw now, noticing how Bella's eyes were caked with blood - before she began to claw, desperately, at the clotted material clinging to her sockets.
Remus didn't move. He knew he should have. Just strike her down - she was in the perfect position, the perfect range. But he couldn't. The house shuddered, with great effort. Bella's wand rolled towards Remus, and stopped at his feet.
Maybe he was in shock. He wasn't sure. It certainly was… a strange thing to see. Bellatrix Lestrange, her eyes caked with blood. He noticed, too, that what he had taken for as a cloud of dust was actually steam, rising from her shoulders and back and hair, as if she were giving off a great heat.
Kreacher said from behind Remus, in his reedy voice, "She killed the worthless son - and she is the Dark Lord's favourite, yes. But the Noble House of Black… is angry…oh. Yes."
Bellatrix spat and Remus realised she was spitting blood. It was on her lips of dripping down her chin, too, as she coughed. He half-wondered whether she'd spew up her guts, or something equally gory like that, the sort of thing Remus would see in muggle horror flicks.
Then she cracked open her eyes, and stared at him. Bits of clotted blood were lodged beneath her fingernails, and her skin was an angry red from where she had scratched. But there was no blood caked on her face anymore. It had gone.
Then she bent over, retching, and coughed up more blood.
x
Voldemort would sometimes say, "Honour is something created to make men feel better about themselves."
But not everyone is so cynical. And the Noble House of Black is noble - so very, very noble. You have a duty to your family, the house whispered into Bellatrix's head. When you married… you inherited… the duties of a wife. When you married Rodolphus… you promised him love… and devotion and you… will not forsake the ties… of the handfast…
He killed your husband and he's been there all along and you didn't even touch him in anger. Be on your way; the Noble House of Black has no use of your kind. Sinner. Harpy. Liar.
Bellatrix's vision swam and then cleared. Blood was spattered on the floor. She put her hand to her mouth, tasting it now, coating her mouth and teeth and tongue. The blood of a Black - the blood of the truly noble. Splattered all along the floor.
She looked back up at Remus. He wordlessly kicked the wand towards her. Its roll was dreadfully slow to her blurry mind.
She was doing something wrong. But what?
"Why did you do it?" She whispered, hoarsely, to Remus.
"Because you killed the man I loved," Remus said, levelling his wand at Bella. Why didn't she pick hers up? "So I killed yours."
Bellatrix closed her eyes. She felt dizzy.
"No," she finally said. "I did the right thing, then… Sirius, Sirius left his brother to die… Sirius deserved to die as well. The House was not angry at him for leaving Regulus… but the House is not angry at me for killing him, either…"
"You're mad," Remus said abruptly.
She heard that a lot, so she didn't take notice. She focused on not falling over as she bent to pick up the wand.
As her fingers closed around it, the House belted out a scream. She let go and clapped her hands over her ears in agony; Remus looked at her in absolute confusion.
He can't hear what I hear, she realised. Of course. He's impure. He's a werewolf. Chattel.
Don't be a fool, Bellatrix, the House spat. Bellatrix of the ivory skin and the lily dresses, playing with Sirius in the backyard, back when the only thing she had to fight for was her family. There's much more to fight for, now; but that doesn't make family any less important.
She gently removed her hands.
"Why was it assigned to you?" She asked carefully. "I never took you for a hit man, Remus."
Remus' grip on his weapon tightened slightly. "It was either me or Severus; and Severus didn't have the courage."
Bellatrix bent down and picked up her wand. The House didn't scream this time. But something else did - high in the rooms above them, an inhuman whinny.
Remus made the mistake of looking up in consternation. And when he looked back down, Bellatrix was tearing down the hall towards the front door.
x
When Tonks finally showed up, no one was very happy with her. But that was fine; Tonks wasn't very happy with herself either. She picked a bad time to get drunk.
When she asked, she discovered Severus had been there, but had also just left. This made her feel incredibly sad. It was a deep, aching kind of sadness, the sadness people tend to feel when they got older and realised, with a pang, that they can never be children ever again.
But this was worse.
She was unhappy for a long time, kicking around the Ministry and doing what people told her to do. Dumbledore saw her, and he was a smart man, and he started to figure everything out.
x
Voldemort up and left, without a word.
And while Voldemort often did things without saying them, this time it was truly puzzling, for there had been no warning, no hints weeks beforehand. This was spur of the moment, and because of that it was unnerving.
Voldemort zipped up his sweater and went outside and walked off down the street. There was a bad feeling in his chest, like a tumour. It told him something bad was going to happen, and that he ought to do something about it.