Note: Ok, it's official. Updates will now be whenever I get the blasted chapters finished. This delay was a mixture of writer's block and general stress coupled with the fact that there has been an ecoli outbreak in North Germany where I live and I am a complete panicking hypochondriac.

Note2: Here there be dragons … And an insight into the mysterious mind of Rodolphus Lestrange, whom I always felt rather sorry for…

Chapter Forty-One

An Important Withdrawal

It was a well-known fact amongst the wizarding world that Gringotts bank closed but for one day a year; the second of January. It was therefore not unheard of for the bank to receive customers on Boxing Day, a holiday during which it held the privilege of being the only open place in Diagon Alley. The goblins might not receive many visitors, but no-one would be overly surprised if the odd one or two needed to make urgent withdrawals having nearly bankrupted themselves in the run up to the festive season.

It was for this reason that the goblins of Gringotts were not completely surprised when Rodolphus Lestrange walked into the bank at half-past eleven on the twenty-sixth of December. Indeed, they were more surprised by his presence itself rather than by the odd time of year at which he was visiting them. Since they had re-entered society and their account had been unfrozen, Bellatrix had been in charge of the Lestrange vault. It was something that the goblins had noted at the time but made no comment upon; Bellatrix Lestrange was far more secretive and protective concerning the fortune that she had married into than most in her position. However much the goblins might speculate, however, they would never say anything, not even to each other. They did not worry themselves with the complexities of witches and wizards.

Nonetheless, any goblin would, when pressed, admit to feeling a small modicum of surprise on seeing Rodolphus Lestrange striding through the foyer of the bank wearing an expression of equal parts grim determination and unfathomable fury. Rodolphus was not a particularly complicated man; he never had been. He had always been intererested in the Dark Arts, well, what little academic inclination he had possessed in his younger years had always tended in this direction, and he had become one of the Dark Lord's most trusted followers. This widely accepted picture was perfectly accurate in its way, and Rodolphus had never felt the need to point out to people the finer points of his psyche. He was not sure himself if he had any.

The other characteristic that the majority of people knew about Rodolphus was his lack of mental stability, a darkness that had always been present yet dormant for most of his life and that had awakened to its full potential during his time in Azkaban. Rodolphus himself was always painfully aware of it, of how his emotions floated constantly just below the surface, each one magnified tenfold and as quick to ignite as the last. In Azkaban, there had never been any need for self-control, and now he had to keep his passionate temper forever in check for fear of losing face or worse. It was a mixture of this explosive, unpredictable temperament and tight control that had led him to Gringotts today, the enactment of a hastily improvised and not-at-all-thought-out plan that had flown into his brain on the spur of the moment. He neither knew nor cared for the consequences, although he suspected that he would not have to wait long to find them out. He simply wanted to cause the maximum amount of pain as possible for the pain that had been caused to him. He wanted sweet and cold revenge.

Whilst Rodolphus was an uncomplicated man for the most part, there was one thing about him that very few people realised. The Lestrange-Black marriage was undoubtedly a strategically arranged political union, but it was not one completely devoid of feeling, for one half at least. Rodolphus had fallen head over heels for Slytherin's unattainable heartbreaker the moment he met her, and the feelings had not dimmed in time but increased. What had also increased, however, was his biting jealousy.

Rodolphus had always known that there was a third party in their marriage, even without his brother's snide remarks of ménage à trois or the whispered comments of his comrades behind his back. He knew that Bellatrix's first and only love was not him. And in his most testing display of self-control to date, Rodolphus had simply watched whilst his wife fawned over their master, and the anger rose like bitter bile in his throat.

But no more. It had gone far enough. It was time to put an end to it, and if his life was the price to pay then so be it. He wanted to destroy the Dark Lord just as the Dark Lord had ruined Rodolphus. It was with this determined thought that Rodolphus stopped at the counter and spoke to the goblin in charge.

"I wish to visit my vault," he said in as calm a voice as he could muster whilst the thoughts of wrongs done to him were still swimming freely in his head.

"Certainly sir," said the goblin. "Will you be making a withdrawal?"

Rodolphus smiled wolfishly at the thought of what he was about to do.

"In a manner of speaking."

He was shown through the bank towards the vaults and settled into the cart whilst other goblins brought the necessary equipment to deal with the high security of his ancient account. As they sped down the tracks into the depths of the bank, Rodolphus reflected on the events that had led him to embark on this suicide mission. It had been a single word, a word that he had probably either misheard or at least misunderstood the intentions of, but it had ignited too much anger for him to think rationally about this probability. The Dark Lord had come to their home on Christmas morning and disappeared into private counsel with Bellatrix. It was not an uncommon occurrence; however much Rodolphus might resent it, he did not find it unusual. He did his best to put the Dark Lord to the back of his mind, but he could not help overhearing as he passed the door behind which they were secreted…

They had come to a standstill at this point and Rodolphus was forced to come back to the present and listen to the goblins' warnings concerning the dragon that they were driving further back into the passage with clinkers.

Finally, the door was opened and the goblins withdrew. Rodolphus looked in on the riches that had been handed down through the generations of his family since it had first been founded all those years ago. He knew that the Dark Lord had entrusted Bellatrix with something very, very important, and he knew that she had placed it into their vault for safekeeping. He knew that somehow destroying, withdrawing or simply misplacing this item would be a loss to his master.

What he didn't know was what on Earth he was looking for.

Rodolphus smiled to himself. There was only one thing for it.

He raised his wand, running through the many spells of destruction that he knew and wondering which would be the most effective at razing his entire fortune. He knew that he wasn't going last much longer to use it, and there was no love lost between him and Rabastan, who might otherwise have a claim to the riches therein.

Rodolphus's lips formed around the first words of the spell, but before he could curse he heard the telltale rush of casting magic behind him. He ducked the spell instinctively, and he knew who had cast it without having to turn round. He knew it wouldn't take her long to track him down, and he knew that once she realised where he was, she would know what he was intending to do.

"Morning, Trixie."

That was the word that he had heard, or thought he had heard. It was his pet name for her, it always had been, and he was the only person who could get away with calling her it. She barely tolerated Bella; she was Bellatrix to everyone except her closest family.

As he turned and easily deflected his wife's next curse, rational thought penetrated Rodolphus's brain for a moment. It was more than extremely unlikely that the Dark Lord himself would have called Bellatrix by a pet form, not when he was normally so cold and distanced from his followers. He had misheard, it was as simple as that.

On the other hand however, this jealousy was not a sudden occurrence. It had been burning within him, gradually hotter and hotter until it was all-consuming, and he had snapped; pet names aside he was not going to tolerate it any longer.

It did not take long for them to degenerate into a full scale duel. Both husband and wife, however estranged, had been frontline soldiers for the Dark Lord for as long as they had been in his employ, and combative magic was second nature to them. They were going to be there a very long time if a duel to the death was the desired outcome, and Rodolphus held no misconceptions that Bellatrix would have something up her sleeve.

He was right; her next spell broke the pattern that he had come to expect from her casting and he could only jump out of the way instead of use magic to deflect it. It whizzed past him and hit a small cup in the depths of the vault, ricocheting around the chamber and finally out into the narrow passage again.

Neither Rodolphus nor Bellatrix had accounted for the chain of events that this simple reflected spell would set into place. As soon as it had bounced passed his ear, missing him by a hair's breadth, Rodolphus cast his own defensive spell back at Bellatrix, not paying any attention to the direction in which her magic had flown. A split second later, he heard a terrible roar and a gout of orange fire shot from along the dismal passageway. The spell had hit the dragon, a fact that the dragon was not best pleased about, and Rodolphus had no doubts that the goblin who had remained to supervise the beast was now no longer.

On seeing the flames, both duellists instinctively ducked, sending the effects of Rodolphus's spell straight into the path of the oncoming blaze. As the fire rushed past them, it took his wand with it, pulling it in by effect of it still being part of the forming spell.

The result created therefrom was unlike anything that Rodolphus had ever seen. Like a Fiendfyre, the flames seemed to take on a life of their own, but unlike a Fiendfyre, they came together into an almost human form, burning a pale blue, barely visible but unbearably hot trail. Tiny red flames flickered at the points where one would normally expect to find the eyes.

Neither witch nor wizard moved as they looked at the spectre that had just come into being in front of their eyes, both speechless. Rodolphus was sure that he had just discovered, through no great will on his part, a completely new form of magic.

The fire creature turned its head first towards Bellatrix, who backed up a few steps, pointing her wand towards it. Somewhere behind the dumbstruck wonder, Rodolphus felt a prick of pride at having created something that Bellatrix feared, but then the creature turned towards him, and before he'd had time to think of a suitable next move, it had launched itself at him like a white-hot cannonball. Rodolphus threw himself onto the floor and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck scorch as the thing flew over his head and into the vault behind him. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see it hit the very cup that Bellatrix's catalysing spell had reflected off so strangely.

As it touched the metal, there was an almighty explosion, showering the rest of the contents of the vault in blue embers, molten gold and a strange, thick, tar-like substance.

There was silence for a moment, the creature seeming to have been destroyed in the blast along with the cup. Rodolphus looked round at Bellatrix. Her face was completely devoid of colour, her expression one of sheer terror. Oh yes. Rodolphus had achieved his goal, certainly. There could be no doubting that the very item that the fire spectre had destroyed had been entrusted to Bellatrix's care by their master.

He opened his mouth to speak although he was not at that point completely sure what he could say to gloat with, but before any words could formulate, there was a roar of flame from behind him as the tiny blue embers erupted into a full-blown blaze. Rodolphus picked himself up off the floor, finding himself face to face with his wife's wand. Her fear had passed, being replaced with the far more familiar expression of anger.

"That was very foolish, Rodolphus," she whispered, "very foolish indeed." She smiled cruelly. "So this is how it is to end then, my dear?"

Rodolphus shook his head, sadly looking around at the smoking legacy of his forefathers, his family, a family that had never truly included Bellatrix. Killed by his own wife on the orders of a master whom she had always adored far more than him... Rodolphus might not be a man of great self-respect – years of imprisonment in a living hell of rapidly decreasing sanity had done that to him – but he still retained a modicum thereof.

"Oh no, Trixie," he said, his twisted smile matching her own. "I think, for once, I would like to choose how it ends."

It was only at that moment that Bellatrix truly looked at their surroundings, at the burning vault and the melting walls that were threatening to bring the whole structure in on itself at any second.

"No you don't…" she began, but Rodolphus had already taken a step back through the flames, reunited with the legacy of his true family as the ceiling caved on top of him and the ruins of his life.

Note3: Nope, I have no idea what the fire-creature was either, but I knew from the beginning that it was going to exist… Anyway, four horcruxes down!