A/N: Gentle reminder that this story has a bittersweet ending. Things will get worse before they get (moderately) better.
...
30 April 1980
Voldemort's eyes gleamed scarlet at the dinner table. Despite the shiver that went down her spine whenever she saw that gleam, Dora found she didn't mind "family dinners" with him as much anymore.
Rodolphus's recent death led to major improvements in the weekly gatherings. The first time they'd had dinner after he died, only Voldemort, Bellatrix, and Dora remained at the table at Lestrange Manor. Voldemort seemed to dislike the new dynamic, and dinners had shifted to Malfoy Manor, where they dined with Abraxas, Lucius, and Narcissa.
Having more people at the dinners, in addition to being in a new location, had done wonders for Dora's happiness. She still despised Voldemort with every fiber of her being, but Abraxas and Lucius were far better at keeping Voldemort entertained than the Lestrange brothers ever were, which meant she didn't have to work as hard to keep up conversation with him. Moreover, with Narcissa at the table, Dora had someone to talk to about baby related things. Voldemort disliked discussing children and babies, and with Bellatrix vying for his attention, Narcissa and Dora were free to have their own conversations.
Bellatrix was jealous that Voldemort had moved on from Lestrange Manor. He said it was improper for him to live with a witch he was not married to. Dora strongly suspected that Bellatrix wanted to make Voldemort her second husband, which made her physically shudder with revulsion.
Voldemort, it seemed, had other ideas.
He moved out of Lestrange Manor to share a home with the Malfoys. Narcissa was displeased with the new arrangement, and Bellatrix, feigning support, insisted on moving in with the Malfoys as well. Dora was meant to live in Lestrange Manor now that she would have an heir to inherit it, but she hated it and claimed she needed Walburga's help to raise her twins, keeping her rooted to Grimmauld Place while the children were young. All in all, staying away from Lestrange Manor and having better conversations with Narcissa led to a huge improvement in her weekly dining arrangements.
"What can you tell me about the Hall of Prophecies, Pandora?"
Dora was startled out of her discussion with Cissa on self-cleaning nappies when she heard Voldemort's chilling voice.
"The Hall of Prophecies, my lord?"
"You work in the Department of Mysteries, do you not?"
"I do, but not in the Hall of Prophecies," Dora said uneasily. She bit her lower lip and placed her hand on her belly, which was as big as Cissa's now, despite their due dates being almost two months apart.
"Surely you know something you can share with us?" Voldemort's voice became more of a hiss, letting Dora know it was more of a command than a request.
"Oh…err…yes. There's only one person who we know works there – the Keeper of the Hall of Prophecies. We don't know who it is, though," Dora said, seeing the scarlet gleam in Voldemort's eye again. "No one knows, actually. The Hall chooses who works there and they wear a veil. There are other workers, we think, but it's…pardon my choice of words…mysterious." She smiled thinly, but Voldemort was decidedly not amused.
Abraxas snorted at her while Lucius sneered. She swallowed the urge to punch him in the face and shifted her gaze to the wall behind Voldemort.
"The prophecies are arranged in the date they were made, so the oldest ones are closest to the entrance and the newest ones are in the back. I believe it's to prevent theft of the prophecies."
"Is there no other protection?" Voldemort asked. His long, white fingers tapped against his skeletal face and his eyes shone more brilliantly than before.
"There is – the prophecies themselves are protected. They can only be handled by the Keeper or those to whom the prophecy pertains. Otherwise touching the orbs that contain the prophecy will cause instant madness."
"Madness, you say?"
"I'm told it can lead to a long-term stay at the Janus Thickey Ward of St. Mungo's, my lord," Dora said evenly, recalling the time once-Order member Broderick Bode was Imperiused to steal a prophecy from the Hall, only to lose his mind and earn a stay at St. Mungo's, where he later died. "The longer one holds the prophecy, the worse the madness is."
Voldemort sat back and moved to tapping his fingers against each other. He fell silent, keeping his gaze steady on his hands.
"I see," he said at last. "Can the prophecy be levitated?"
"It has to be taken off the shelf by hand first," Dora replied promptly. "I believe it can be levitated once that's done."
Voldemort hummed lightly to himself. Bellatrix, on his right, glowered at her.
"The other thing to know…the Entrance Hall is tricky. It doesn't always open the door you want."
"Curious…very curious." Voldemort's slit-like eyes narrowed further. He inhaled deeply and turned back to his near-empty plate, taking a nibble of whatever he was eating. Bellatrix held a dinner knife in her hand, looking as if she wanted to stab something – or someone – with it.
"Dora," Cissa said quietly. "Would you like to see Draco's nursery after dinner?"
"I'd like that very much." Dora pushed around the remains of her dinner on her plate, when she heard Bellatrix muttering rapidly in Voldemort's ear. He put a hand up to her, pushing her back to her seat, and glanced back at Dora.
"Go now," Voldemort said. "I have matters to discuss with the others."
Dora suspected the matters had to do with the Department of Mysteries – or whatever Bella had on her mind – but she followed Cissa to the other end of the manor, where the bedrooms were located.
"In through here," Cissa murmured. They went under an archway, turned a corner, and entered the largest nursery Dora had ever seen. One of its walls was covered in an enchanted mural, with a variety of magical creatures that moved and flew throughout the scene.
"A bit small, isn't it?" Dora said, arching a brow at Cissa.
"This might be the only child I have. Nothing but the best for him." Cissa turned her nose up, looking every bit as haughty as her upbringing had taught her to be, and gestured for Dora to join her on a lavish, tufted, cream-colored sofa.
"So why did you really bring me here?"
"You see the way she looks at you."
"Bella? She's looking a little more homicidal than usual, I suppose."
Cissa pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and sighed. "You realize how jealous she is of you?"
"She's been jealous of me for ages," Dora said, waving her hand dismissively. "Ever since I got pregnant. I'm very well aware that with Rab and Rodolphus dead, I 'outrank' her."
"She doesn't trust you, Dora. I know she's been telling the Dark Lord that you shouldn't be trusted." Cissa's steely grey eyes were unusually solemn as she said this.
"How do you know that?" Dora's brow knit together and her lips curled downward into a frown. She darted her eyes around the room, wondering what else she might not know.
"One of the many advantages of being this home's mistress," Cissa said carefully, "is that there are many portraits that keep an eye on its masters. The Malfoy ancestors will do anything to protect their future. They will also, if asked, keep an eye out for others."
"You have your portraits watching me?"
Cissa shook her head. "I have them watching the others. Bella doesn't trust you and she's plotting things behind your back."
"Do they have to do with me or my children?" Dora asked, putting both of her hands on her expanded midsection. "I can take threats against me, but not against them."
"I don't think she means to harm them," Cissa whispered. "But the Dark Lord wants to get a prophecy and you are his best hope. Bella is furious."
"I gave him all the help he can get. The Department of Mysteries isn't a place anyone should try to break into. I can't even go into the Hall of Prophecies unless my work nudges me there."
"Be careful, Dora." Cissa's gaze had shifted; her eyes were downturned and she chewed on her lip. "My sister…she's not the kindest witch."
"I know. I'll be fine…I promise." Dora took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She knew her promise was likely empty, but if it gave Cissa a measure of relief, it was the best she could offer.
…..
31 May 1980
Dora was panting by the time she made it up to Sirius's flat. She had once been in excellent physical shape, but the weight of carrying twins had taken its toll and it took twice as much effort to make it up the stairs. She wasn't going to miss her lunch date with Sirius for the world, however, as it would give her precious insight on how Remus was doing. It was the day after the full moon, and Sirius had planned on visiting Remus that morning to heal him.
She knocked on the door, catching her ragged breath, and her eyes flew open upon seeing Sirius so haggard.
"What's wrong?"
"'M tired. Usual shit," he said, standing aside to let her in. "You know the way." Sirius had been living in Uncle Al's old flat for the last few years. It was considerably more cluttered now that he lived there, but the layout hadn't changed and she found a seat in the kitchen, anxious to learn how Remus was faring.
Sirius poured himself a cup of coffee and prepared her a cup of herbal tea. He set them down on the table, closed his eyes, and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.
"Please tell me. I need to know how he's doing."
"It's not looking good, Dora," Sirius said, wiping his eye with the sleeve of his robes. "He's not well."
"But you healed him this morning, didn't you?"
Sirius knit his brow together. He clutched his cup of coffee tighter and let out a long, tense sigh through his nose.
"I did what I could."
"What does that mean?"
"It means he needs more than one untrained bloke sneaking in basic potions and fixing his broken bones in less than twenty minutes. He was unconscious from blood loss when I found him this morning. That took most of my time." Sirius covered his face with his hands and hunched forward on the table.
"He wasn't even awake for my visit. I did what I could, Dora…but I've no idea if it was enough."
"You mean he could be—" Dora swallowed the lump in her throat. Her vision grew unfocused and she heard distant ringing in her ears.
"I don't know," he croaked, bringing his hands up through his unkempt, unbrushed hair. Dora noticed that he had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and his stubble was patchy.
"He was breathing, wasn't he?"
"Yeah, he was."
"So he's still alive," Dora said, careful to sound as if she was making a statement, rather than a question.
"As of this morning—"
"Please let me hope, Sirius."
"You told me to tell you the truth." Sirius sat back in the chair, scratched at his chin, and took a long gulp of his coffee, grimacing as he put the cup back down on the table. "I'm telling you the truth. He's not well."
Dora closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. She put her hands on her belly, feeling for the lives within. They moved slower these days, cramped as they were, but they were still alive, even if—
No, she told herself. He had to live. Remus would live to see his children.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and cleared it, hoping to change the subject.
"How are the Potters?"
"Bored. They don't like being stuck at home, but tough luck. James opened his big mouth and made sure Voldemort went after his kid."
"How'd Lily take it?"
Sirius took another sip of his coffee and frowned, saying, "This is rubbish. I'm making tea."
"You didn't answer my question." Dora lifted a brow at Sirius. He put the kettle on to boil and turned around, rubbing his eyes again tiredly.
"They're putting on a brave face, but they haven't slept in the same bed since Easter."
Dora's jaw dropped. "They haven't?"
"Lily doesn't forgive easily. I know she loves him, but he fucked up." Sirius emptied his previous cup of coffee, rinsed it out, and stood back by the kettle to wait.
"They asked me to be godfather. I said yes, of course."
"I was going to ask you to be Leo's godfather," Dora said softly. "Will you—"
"Absolutely. Who will be the other?"
Dora inhaled sharply. "I thought of asking Severus, actually."
"Snape?"
"Do you know another Severus?"
Sirius scoffed, but as the kettle began whistling, he poured the boiling water into his cup and brought it back to the table.
"He's the reason James's kid is being targ—"
"No, he isn't. James said it was his son. I talked to Sev weeks ago…he only did what Dumbledore asked him to do. Only one family has to go into hiding now."
"He attacked us! He could've killed—"
"But he didn't," Dora said, shaking her head in exhaustion. "Sev knows what he's doing. He's not perfect, but he followed Dumbledore's orders. I don't want to keep arguing over this. I'm sorry Peter died—"
Sirius opened his mouth, but Dora knew what he was going to say.
"For the last time, I'm not telling you what became of him in my time," Dora snapped. "You've already figured out I didn't know him, even though I knew you and Remus. When the war's over, I'll tell you."
Sirius took a sip of his tea, glancing sideways at her, but said no more.
"Anyway, Sev's done a lot for us. He'll make a good godfather, as will you."
Sirius snorted loudly into his tea and said, "Godmothers?"
"Cissa for Leo and Lily for Lyra. That's easy."
"Narcissa…and Lily? You realize they won't stand—"
Dora rolled her eyes dramatically. "Cissa's improved with time. All our kids will be the same age, and I hope this will encourage them all to be civil. If Remus disagrees, he can let me know at your next visit with him."
"He won't disagree."
"I'm giving him the option." Dora set her teacup on her stomach, where it sat without tipping over. She sighed and added, "I wish he could see me like this."
Sirius got up from the table and turned a corner into one of the bedrooms. Dora heard rummaging and several expletives, but after a few minutes, he returned with a camera. Without hesitation, he clicked down, and Dora was blinded by the flash.
"I didn't mean literally! I look terrible!"
"Moony won't care." Sirius took another picture, likely of her scowling at him, and grinned.
"Trust me, he's going to love this. I'll bring these pictures to him next month."
"Will you take one of me smiling and waving?"
"I'll take as many as you want," he said, as the corners of his eyes turned down. "Moony will treasure them for as long as he lives."
Dora did her best to plaster a smile to her face for a series of photographs. She let Sirius take enough pictures to fill the camera roll, and though she didn't like how round her face had gotten with her pregnancy, she held out hope that Remus would like the pictures as much as Sirius promised he would.
When she left Sirius's flat later that afternoon, a painful thought stabbed her heart. She shook it off, and hoped with all her being that Remus would be alive long enough to see the pictures at all.
…..
18 June 1980
A disturbing sound reached Dora's ears. She was working later than usual that Wednesday afternoon, trying to avoid any additional time with Walburga, when a familiar cackle tickled her eardrums in a way that made her hair stand on edge. It wasn't like the strange sound she always heard in the Love Room in the Department of Mysteries – a sound which she could never identify as either laughing or crying – the new sound was definite cackling.
There was the sound of several footsteps from outside the Love Room, where the Entrance Hall of the department was located. Curious, Dora stopped her work and took heavy steps to the door. She was at 33 weeks' gestation with her twins, which meant she moved slowly now, but it didn't prevent her curiosity from getting the better of her.
She opened the door to see Sirius running into the Hall of Prophecies.
"Fuck," she said, gasping. She knew Voldemort had a plot to try to get into the Hall of Prophecies, but she hadn't expected him to go through with it so soon. At her stage of pregnancy, she was in no position to duel, but she couldn't let Voldemort find and hear the full prophecy in case he decided to go after the Longbottoms and her son, in addition to the Potters. She tucked herself back into the Love Room and cast her Patronus twice, sending a message to both Mad-Eye and Dumbledore to beg for help.
Dora stood still for a moment, torn between the desperate urge to fight and the crushing duty of staying put for the safety of her children. She put a hand on her belly and felt their movements underneath her fingertips. They were alive, she was alive, and Remus had survived the last full moon.
For them. For Remus.
The words played in a loop in her head; she cursed her luck, being incapable of dueling when it mattered so much, but her slow speed alone would be a death sentence. She waddled to the door, opening it just barely, and kept an eye on the dais in the middle of the Entrance Hall, hoping that someone would come to help.
Her wish was granted sooner than she expected. Frank Longbottom arrived first, followed by Mad-Eye and Kingsley Shacklebolt. She breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing them run into the Hall of Prophecies, wondering if Dumbledore would arrive as well, when he appeared too and dashed behind the others with impressive speed.
Lights flashed from the open door to the Hall of Prophecies. A deafening crash of glass rung in Dora's ears. Dozens of strained voices called out prophecies from years and decades before. She gulped hard, wondering what damage was being inflicted upon those within.
Dora almost ran out of the Love Room when she saw Bellatrix emerge from the Hall of Prophecies with a misty orb levitating above her head. Dora's heart sank to the floor; prophecies could only be touched by either the Keeper of the Hall of Prophecies or those whom the prophecy pertained to. If Bella managed to get access to the prophecy, it meant that Voldemort was there, too. Dora felt a cold dread in the pit of her stomach, suspecting that Voldemort charmed the prophecy himself for Bella to run away with while he battled the others.
Bella cackled as she approached the dais. Dora's jaw dropped further when Sirius appeared from the entrance to the Hall of Prophecies.
"Give that back!" Sirius shouted, following Bellatrix to the dais. Bella sent a spell his way, which he dodged, and tried to leave, but the dais spun around away from the exit. Dora's lips curled into a smile; only Unspeakables managed to navigate through the Department of Mysteries successfully, while intruders were purposefully confused as a defense mechanism.
The door to the Death Room opened and Dora grinned, hoping that Bellatrix would find her way through the Veil. Dora's delight lasted only a moment, as Sirius ran immediately after Bella.
Dora's face drained of all color. She stood, rooted to the spot, unable to decide what to do. There was still a battle ongoing inside the Hall of Prophecies and there was no one else to summon for help. While Dora wouldn't mind in the least if Bella fell through the Veil, Sirius likely had no clue what it was and Dora would be damned if something happened to him in there.
She swallowed hard, casting as many protective enchantments on herself and her twins as possible, and walked out toward the dais, concentrating hard on being able to get to the Death Room. To her relief, the door stayed open for her and she went in as fast as she could.
The orb containing the prophecy was still enchanted and levitating above Bellatrix's head. It moved with her as she battled Sirius, each on opposite ends of the stone dais that held the Veil. Dora disillusioned herself, staying to the close to the wall behind her, and cast nonverbal spells to protect Sirius.
Sirius dodged one spell after another. Every time he tried to cast something at Bellatrix, she returned it with a vengeance, smacking him around the room. Dora wrung her hand at her side while the other clutched around her wand.
She was disillusioned; Sirius was fighting. It would be easy – laughably easy, in fact – to kill Bellatrix now. A well-placed Killing Curse would be enough. Words Dora had never uttered with the intention of killing someone could roll off her tongue, and with her wand pointed at her mother's sister, Bellatrix Lestrange would never terrorize anyone ever again.
Dora raised her wand, ready to cast an Unforgivable Curse, when Sirius sent a spell in Bellatrix's direction that shattered the orb above her head.
Trelawney's ghostly figure began speaking the prophecy. Bellatrix screamed, and with Sirius momentarily distracted by the victory of destroying the orb, she sent a flash of green light his way.
The Killing Curse hit Sirius square in the chest and he stiffened instantly, falling backwards in death.
"NO!" Dora screamed, hearing his body hit the stone floor with a final thud. She moved toward him, losing the concentration necessary to keep her Disillusionment Charm steady.
"I knew it!" Bellatrix sneered, upon seeing Dora. "I knew you couldn't be trusted! You traitor!"
"Expelliarmus!" Dora shouted, but Bellatrix blocked the spell.
"Avada Ked—"
"Lux caeca!" The blinding light burst forth from Dora's wand, and she heard Bellatrix stumble, unable to see where she was going. Dora retried the Disarming Spell and was finally successful; Bellatrix's curved walnut wand flew into Dora's left hand.
She lifted the charm that caused the blinding light, switching wands in her hands, and cast the curse she'd avoided using for years.
"Avada Kedavra."
Dora turned Bellatrix's wand against her, and with the hate flowing in her heart, the Killing Curse was successful on the first try.
Bellatrix's eyes bulged in surprise as comprehension of what was happening dawned on her. There was a slight curl to her lips as her next words died in her throat and she fell back, still and lifeless against the stone.
Dora's hand shook from the hateful magic that had flowed out of her and she dropped the wand, letting it clatter against the floor. She hated the feeling of power that coursed through her veins, but one glance at Sirius's pale, motionless body redirected her rage into grief.
Images of Sirius flashed through her mind.
Sirius at 12, coming home after his first year at Hogwarts with a scowl on his face.
14 year old Sirius, hugging Dora when Remus dated Marlene.
Sirius at 16, his arms around his friends and singing the school song loudly in the Great Hall.
35 year old Sirius, gaunt but smiling gleefully upon seeing Tonks all grown up, and old enough to be a member of the Order.
Sirius at 36, running after Harry to get to the Department of Mysteries.
Now Sirius lay before her, permanently twenty years old, never to meet the boys who would become his godsons; neither Harry nor Leo would ever know their Uncle Sirius.
Tears spilled down Dora's cheeks. Sirius's last act of life had been to protect his would-be godson, Harry, from Voldemort. She wept bitter tears, feeling waves of shame and failure washing over her. She was supposed to make the future better, but she failed yet again – and this time, she'd cut Sirius's life short.
"There! In the Death Room!" A voice interrupted Dora's distress. She realized she had to move – she couldn't be caught with two dead bodies.
She heaved herself off the floor, but someone was already approaching her.
"Dora." Dumbledore stood before her, gazing somberly upon Sirius's corpse. "I'm sorry."
"She killed him…I killed her." Dora put her face into her hands, overwhelmed with the flood of emotions that came with her admission.
Dumbledore waved his wand at the door to the Death Room, closing it shut.
"Did you use your wand?"
Dora shook her head. "I used hers."
Dumbledore bent down and gently took Sirius's wand from his body. With his own wand, Dumbledore conjured a single rose and placed it on the floor next to Sirius. He then took Sirius's wand and brandished it at the rose.
"Avada Kedavra." The rose wilted in death before turning to ash. Dumbledore brought Sirius's wand back to his body and took a step back, sighing sadly.
"When the Aurors—"
"Priori Incantatem, I know," Dora mumbled, her voice thick from her tears. "It'll look like they killed each other."
"Disillusion yourself and hide. When I bring the others in, you can slip out."
Dora did as she was told; she made it back up to where she'd been hiding and disillusioned herself. Dumbledore flicked his wand at the door and a few moments later, Mad-Eye and Kingsley joined him by Sirius and Bellatrix's bodies.
"Where's Frank?" asked Dumbledore.
"He'll live," Mad-Eye grunted. "Where's the prophecy?"
"It's destroyed, if I'm not mistaken."
Kingsley picked up Bellatrix's wand and performed Priori Incantatem on it to reveal the many curses, hexes, and jinxes she'd cast before her death.
"Nothing surprising here," Kingsley said, holding the wand with an upturned nose.
Mad-Eye took Sirius's wand and revealed its previously cast spells.
"Reducto before Avada Kedavra," Mad-Eye said gruffly. "Destroyed the prophecy and then killed each other."
"It appears so," Dumbledore confirmed. "The others?"
"You-Know-Who fled after you knocked him over, sir," Kingsley replied, facing Dumbledore. "He wasn't prepared – only took Lestrange with him. How did you hear that he broke into the Ministry?"
"A well-placed ear," Dumbledore said calmly. Mad-Eye's magical eye whirred around the room. Dora knew he could see her through the Disillusionment Charm; he nodded almost imperceptibly at her and she mouthed "I'm sorry" at him, guilt-ridden as she was over Sirius's untimely death.
"We need to notify next of kin," Kingsley said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Who—"
"Narcissa Malfoy for Mrs. Lestrange," Dumbledore replied. "As well as her mother, Mrs. Druella Black. For Sirius…I will contact his cousin, Pandora Bl—Lestrange, as well as one of his closest friends, James Potter. Hopefully I will find the younger Mrs. Lestrange in her current residence, as I believe she lives with her Aunt Walburga, Sirius's mother."
Dora slowly made her way out of the Death Room, taking Dumbledore's cue to go home to wait for the "news" of Sirius's death. Her heart pounded in her ears as she gathered her things from her workspace.
Voldemort had fled without the prophecy. Dora hadn't heard anything about a planned attack on the Ministry, but if Kingsley was right, it had been executed by Voldemort and Bellatrix alone. She didn't want to be the person to tell Voldemort his most faithful servant had been killed – by Dora, no less – and she feared his reaction upon learning of Bellatrix's fate.
She glanced in a mirror before going into the Floo, careful to morph any tears, redness, or puffiness away, and went into the flames to get to Grimmauld Place.
She was taken aback immediately by two house elves wrestling each other on the floor of the library.
"My Mistress!"
"She is my Mistress!"
"Mosby! Kreacher! Stop fighting!" Dora shouted. The two elves separated, glaring in the other's direction, each with his own set of scratches and injuries.
"What is going on?" Walburga demanded, stepping into the library. "Why was there—"
"It appears we have a problem," Dora said, trying to stay calm. A loud knock on the front door of the house interrupted her, and the elves began fighting each other to answer it.
"Mosby! Stay behind," Dora ordered. "Kreacher, answer the door." Kreacher shot Mosby a sneer as he shuffled out to the corridor.
A minute later, he returned with Millicent Bagnold, the current Minister for Magic. Walburga gasped audibly and Dora stepped back, having expected Dumbledore, but not Bagnold, at Grimmauld Place.
"What do you want?" Walburga spat.
"We have some news regarding two of your family members," Bagnold announced matter-of-factly. "I won't need more than a few minutes of your time, madam. This is more relevant to your niece, Mrs. Lestrange."
Dora shuddered at hearing her name. Lately, she would've preferred if others did call her by her originally given name, Nymphadora, rather than the surname she'd married into.
"I'm here," Dora said quietly. "I can talk."
Walburga narrowed her eyes at Bagnold but joined Dora on the green velvet sofa closest to the fireplace.
"There's no easy way to say this," Bagnold began solemnly, once she'd taken a seat across from Walburga, "but I'm afraid to inform you that your son, Sirius, and your niece, Bellatrix, were found dead at the Ministry of Magic today. It appears they killed each other."
Walburga's jaw fell open; she grew pale instantly and she brought a shaking hand up to her mouth. Dora swallowed hard, trying her best to keep herself together.
"D-dead?" Walburga whispered. "My son is dead?"
Dora's eyes flew open. She turned her head to see that Walburga had a single tear falling down her cheek and gawked as it reached her chin, flabbergasted that Walburga still felt any maternal affection for Sirius.
"With the passing of Bellatrix Lestrange," Bagnold continued, now unfurling a piece of parchment from her robes, "it appears Pandora Lestrange, widow of Rabastan Lestrange, is set to inherit everything the Lestranges left behind."
Dora stared at the parchment in front of her. With a single signature, Dora would inherit the Lestrange vault, which contained the final horcrux. It had taken nearly six months for all three Lestranges to be killed, but each death had cost the freedom or life of another.
"I…" Dora's voice trailed off. Bagnold placed the parchment in front of her, detailing the last will and testament of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Sign here, Mrs. Lestrange, if you will," Bagnold said impatiently, holding out a quill.
Dora took the quill with a trembling hand, terrified and excited for what was to come. She signed her name and Bagnold tapped her wand on the parchment, re-rolling it, and tucked it into her robes.
"As for the bodies of the late Mr. Black and Mrs. Lestrange, they are being held at the Ministry. According to our records, Mrs. Cygnus Black is held responsible for Mrs. Lestrange's body and Mr. and Mrs. James Potter are responsible for Mr. Black's. However, we've been informed that the Potters are unavailable. This makes you both the next of kin."
"My son will be buried with his father," Walburga declared. "He'll have a proper burial."
Dora blinked rapidly and stuck her finger in her ear, certain she was mishearing. She knew Sirius would've rather been buried anywhere but the Black family plot, but it hardly mattered in the moment. The Potters were in hiding and wouldn't be able to go to a funeral or burial, Peter was already dead, and Remus was in prison. Sirius's old Gryffindor classmates were scattered, leaving only a small number of people who would publicly mourn his loss.
"Very well, madam," Bagnold replied crisply as she got to her feet and clasped her robes together. "You may come to the Ministry in the morning to collect the body and make arrangements. I'm sorry for your losses."
Dora swallowed the lump in her throat. She shook the Minister's hand weakly, finding it hard to muster any strength after losing Sirius. She tried to stand to let Bagnold out, but she felt faint. The image of his glassy-eyed, pale face, intermingled with the joyful memories of the future and past, left her mind fuzzy with all that had been lost.
Walburga managed to see Bagnold out of the house, leaving Dora with her two house elves. It was then that she finally allowed herself to break down and sob for the man who had been both her brother and friend.
