We move far enough away from the corpse of the creature that we can breathe clean air. The walk is slow and quiet, neither of us prepared to expend any more energy than absolutely necessary. We haven't found any traces of Bellatrix in this wing - not even hints of her magic - so our goal is just to get out as safely as possible.
It's very likely that this eventually leads back up into the central room where we found Bellatrix's journal. The main pathway is slanted very slightly upwards, with branching suites and rooms off to either side. I'm not sure where else this would be going, though the construction of this place is confusing enough that I wouldn't be overly surprised should we come out in a different area entirely.
"What do you think? Is it really dead this time?" It'll be a long walk - may as well fill the time with conversation.
"If it somehow survived that, I fear it may be entirely indestructible." I can't say I disagree, but I think I'll be keeping some silver on me from now on.
I hum my agreement, then retrieve Bellatrix's journal from my robes. These pages are the key to this whole mystery. I can feel it in the very core of my being, some magical force seeming to draw my attention to it with a gentle tug. "This is it, then. Our step forward. The big break we've been searching for."
"Is it?" Cissa eyes me curiously. "You seem oddly convinced."
"Can't you feel it? It's like the world wants me to open these pages." I do open the journal, though it's still blank. "Les sœurs avant le sang," I whisper, only slightly disappointed by the lack of response. My pronunciation wasn't the best since I'm just emulating what I've heard, and even Cissa got nothing last time she tried.
"No, I cannot say I feel much of anything, though you do seem to be much more sensitive to magic than I." I shrug, not sure how to feel about that. "If you say it is calling to you, then I believe you. We just need to figure out the password."
"Any ideas for a possible second half?" We haven't exactly had much time to think about it, much less discuss it, but it's possible that Cissa has come up with something. "You know her better than I do."
"Only vague guesswork. Nothing I would even bother trying." She moves a bit closer to me and continues, "Now, your pronunciation needs work. We should start with…"
By the time the path changes from the same generic, abandoned rooms on repeat, I actually have a decent grasp of the basic sounds of the language. With coaching, I'm sure I could learn a phrase or two, even though I'd be lacking in practical skill. I'd like to try using Bellatrix's password. It should be a good test of my pronunciation. "I never did ask, what does her password mean?"
It takes Cissa several long moments to speak, and when she does her voice is tinged with sorrow. "Sisterhood before blood." She takes a deep breath, presumably deciding how she wants to continue. "When we were young - so young that I can only just recall the moment - we swore that we would take care of one another over all else. Against suitors, against the cruelties of schoolchildren… even against the weight of our family's expectations." The rest of her breath is let out in a deep sigh. "Clearly that did not stand the actual test of life. When Andie left, she had already been gone for some time - living with Rodolphus. I was not sure whether she would uphold our promise. Even I struggled to decide whether to protect Andie, or abandon her.
"The news reached the Lestrange estate eventually, and I do not need to tell you that she took the news poorly. It was, without a doubt, the most significant spark of rage that I had ever seen from her. To be perfectly honest, that was the moment I should have known that they were not good company to keep. You know that I did stay, despite that."
Sisterhood before blood… but purity before sisterhood, apparently. I can't help but feel a wave of sadness - for Andromeda, so quickly isolated from those she surely thought would support her. For Cissa, torn between her promise and the expectations forced upon her. For Bellatrix, though, all I can muster is a twinge of melancholy, for being so rigid as to lose those that may have saved her from her eventual fate.
After the brief moment of sad reflection on the past, we return to my French lessons to pass the time and clear the air. I find myself quietly thankful that we never had the opportunity to start before now. We've been walking for what feels like hours, heading steadily upwards. I'm exhausted and my legs burn from the effort, but I don't want to stop until we can find some kind of difference - or at least somewhere relatively comfortable to rest. Maybe even a bed. A few hours of sleep would do us both good. Five more minutes. I'll count five more minutes, then we're stopping.
It's only three minutes when we stop seeing rooms on either side of the tunnel, then the walkway starts to narrow, and we finally see a doorway in the distance. It's still quite a walk away, but it's something.
If we find the main chamber again, the plan is to head down the spiral to the bedroom. We didn't take much time to examine the notes there, given that we were in something of a rush, but now we can give them the focus they deserve.
If we don't find the main chamber, we're going to cast cushioning charms on the ground and sleep. We have to rest at some point. We're undoubtedly going to get ourselves hurt more seriously than soreness and magical strain if we keep pushing it like this.
It is to my immense relief that I see a table directly through the door, and as we get closer it becomes increasingly clear that we've made the most convoluted circle possible - we're back at the place we started. "I never thought I'd be happy to see this place again."
"Neither did I." Cissa makes a beeline for the table in the center, immediately collapsing into the chair beside it. I take it a little slower, and sit on the ground beside her, leaning against her legs. "Why did she have to disable Apparition? This is absurd."
I bite back my obvious answer, instead opting to reach my hand up and take hers. I know she's just frustrated and tired. We both are, really, and while we are safer, we're still trapped. Right now it's important for us to get our morale up, so we'll take a break before heading down the spiral to the bedroom.
We let silence settle over us, content to just exist with the knowledge that we're okay. After having talked for most of the last several hours, I think we're both spent. Eventually, though, Cissa breaks the silence with a long yawn. After she recovers, she mumbles, "I wonder how long ago we were trapped."
"It's got to be close to twelve hours now." I force myself to stand despite the protesting burn in my knees and thighs. "Let's get moving. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can sleep."
Soon. We'll figure this out soon. Surely.
By the time we reach the bottom and see a silver door on the far side of a too-small room, I regret not just stopping to sleep on a cushioning charm. Surely it would've been better than another ridiculous walk in this too-large complex. "Why is this place even here? How old is it?"
"I wish I could say. At least then I would know who to strike from the family record." Cissa leads the way with purpose, moving faster than either of us have in the past several hours.
"We'll work on figuring that out next." Cissa waves her hand and magically snaps the door open with enough force that the hinges creak. I follow her to the desk with Bellatrix's things once more, hand already outstretched for the nearest sheaf of papers.
The third time I misread the same sentence, I set down the page I'm holding and stand. "Your sister's handwriting is hard enough to decipher when I'm awake, Cissa. Let's get some sleep." While Cissa finishes her current page, I cast a few spells to put the bed to rights and alert us if anything gets close to the room. I do feel safer in a room with a silver door, but it's hard not to let the silence of this place get to me.
I slip under the blankets, annoyed to find that - even with further magic - I can't get the smell of dust out of them. At this point I would literally sleep on the stone floor, though, so dusty sheets aren't that big of a deal. It isn't long before I'm dozing, slipping back and forth between hazy consciousness and sleep.
I feel Cissa join me at some point, laying close enough that I can feel her warmth. I dimly register her whispering something, but I'm too far gone to understand it.
The constant light makes waking up annoyingly easy. I want to sleep for twelve more hours, ideally with a potion or two to help my body recover. I still ache everywhere. "Good morning, darling."
I roll over and look to the sound of Cissa's voice, unsurprised to see her studiously working away. "You wake up far too early."
"Nonsense." She says it so simply that I can't help but crack a grin before I make myself get up and go help.
"Anything yet?" I doubt it. She probably would have woken me if so.
"No, sadly, but I did gather something of a breakfast from the store room." She gestures at a small pile of dried fruits in the center of the desk. Certainly not the worst I've had.
I pick up where I left off, starting from the beginning of the page I'd given up on.
I've been doing this for so long. I hope Cissy is okay. I don't have much more time to get it right.
Get what right? We know she was working towards something worth hiding - at least, that makes the most sense, given what we've read in her other notes - but what? I shake my head and move on. The journal. Learn how to open the journal. That will answer everything, I can feel it.
It's like every time I take a step forward, someone hexes me for it. What did I think was going to happen, listening to that rambling git? Let the stars guide my way? Well they've guided me into a goddamn pit, with nothing to show for it. Has to be the second most worthless advice I've ever followed.
There's more on the page, but my mind is elsewhere. I draw my wand and quickly disable the light enchantment, not too worried about the longevity of the darkness. I just need to see where a star is so I can touch it.
As soon as the light flickers off, I clamber onto the bed and stretch up to touch my fingertips to one within reach. Instantly, a shock of familiar icy magic darts up my arm. The magic of the light enchantment covered it so well I couldn't feel it before. Bellatrix's magic leading to the podium was strong, well traveled, and engrained in the very air. These stars, though, are something she would have only had to cast once - a simple enchantment, easily disguised by a stronger signal. They're her stars. Bellatrix's guide.
"Cissa!" I jump off the bed, fatigue forgotten in my excitement, and dash back to the desk. "Would you mind translating something for me?" I just have a feeling. That mural - its placement didn't make much sense, but I'd assumed we had taken the wrong way down, maybe there was some other path that made the mural's location reasonable. If Bellatrix wrote it, though, then it seems more like a centerpiece. A reminder.
She takes a moment to respond, but eventually manages a slightly baffled, "Not at all."
"Great! Come on!" I turn and fling the door open with a flick of my wand, basically sprinting to get up to the podium as quickly as possible. "Accio journal!" I shout, mind whirring with excitement. If I'm right, this is it.
I get to the central room almost a minute before Cissa does, but I wait for her so we can go to the podium together. I start towards it as soon as I can see her, though I do hear her ask, "Would you mind explaining, darling?"
"I think I figured out what the second half of the password is." I slip into the tiny passage that leads to the podium, pausing for a moment to make sure I don't get caught on the rock. "Sisterhood before blood; let the stars guide your way."
"How in Merlin's name did you reach that conclusion?"
I help her through the last few steps while I reply. "I'll explain after, I promise." I untie the cord of the journal and open it to the first page, then excitedly look to Cissa.
"Les sœurs avant le sang; laisse les étoiles guider ton chemin."
Bellatrix's magic sparks up my arms as the words filter into view. Her scrawling handwriting is recognizable, even though I can't read the French. Then, to my surprise, I start to see the words shift and contort, shortly transforming into English as Bellatrix's magic flares stronger.
To those who find my journal, should I pass before this damnable conflict is done: My name is Bellatrix Druella Black, and I am not - nor have I ever been - a Death Eater.