Note: Argh! I am so incredibly sorry for not updating for a month. Yes, it has been exactly a month. Various things got in the way: Stress, Christmas, revision, stress, Michael Crawford, stress, exam season and my inspiration being taken over by several other new, shiny exciting things, including but not limited to Colin Firth, anthropomorphised spy planes, Choderlos de Laclos and that guy from that thing that I can't remember the name of. You know, the one I always get mixed up with, erm, that other guy… Ok, forget that. Several attempts to reignite my HP spark failed. Not even a trip to Harrods' Harry Potter shop (I was sat at the top of the Egyptian escalator writing in my little notebook GOOD GRIEF THEY HAVE A HARRY POTTER SHOP IN HARRODS... you can tell I'm not a regular there...) and the autographed picture of Jason Isaacs in his full get-up that I got for Christmas could help me out.

So in the end, completely exasperated and annoyed with my inability to write, I decided to buy myself some more time by changing the order of the chapters. I know I said, at the end of the last update (yeah, back in 2011…) that we were going back to the Ministry, but we aren't. This chapter was originally due to be chapter sixty, but since the events in the proposed chapter fifty-nine and in this one have no bearing on each other, I am perfectly at liberty to switch them around. And since this one has been written for some time now, there was absolutely no point in my keeping on delaying it. I hope you enjoy despite the tardiness, and next time we really will be back in the Ministry!

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Things Amiss

The Dark Lord rolled his eyes and gave a heavy, theatrical sigh.

"Well, my dear," he said to Bellatrix, standing beside him. "I think that the Gryffindors' pride mentality has once more won out over good common sense, and they have chosen to risk all of their lives instead of sending one cub to the slaughter."

Bellatrix nodded her agreement, and despite the contempt that she held her old house enemies in, she could not help but be fascinated at the inherent differences in their ways of thinking. To her mind, it simply did not make sense not to save oneself before all else; the nobility of taking a sacrifice for another was illogical. And yet here they were, the hundreds in the school willing to risk their own lives to protect the one student who had caused them nothing but trouble for the seven years that he'd been at Hogwarts. They were all, without a shadow of a doubt, completely mad.

"They have no concept of the greater good," lamented the Dark Lord, twirling his wand between his fingers as he pondered his next course of action. "I have always said that there must be a few sacrifices on the path to greatness. Ah, Minerva, I am sure that we could have had a very good working relationship if you did not refuse to see the necessity of a little collateral damage here and there."

Bellatrix remembered all the collateral damage that she had caused, that all her colleagues had caused during the past year, and she shrugged. They were necessary sacrifices. No-one was going to miss them, were they? She looked up at the still and silent castle, wondering what the inhabitants were thinking and feeling a smile of satisfaction creeping over her face as she imagined the students gathered in their various common rooms, cowering in fear. They'd been kept so sheltered and cosseted for so long, but now there was no escape. Now the real world was about to invade, and it would be a bloody, brutal culture shock. Hogwarts, the last bastion of the old regime, which had been crumbling and cracking under the pressure for so long now, was about to give out completely, a pathetic and spluttering cough of final resistance before it collapsed wearily into the Dark Lord's hands with the minimum of fuss.

"Well, since his protectors have rather stupidly decided to keep him within their midst," the Dark Lord began, "I think that the time has come for us to fetch him by force. Do you agree, Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix did not just agree; she was relishing the prospect. Ever since the all-too-brief skirmish at the end of the last academic year, she had been itching to bring Hogwarts to its knees, and the Ministry's intervention the month before had served only to increase her appetite and frustration. She wanted the satisfaction of a job well finished, and finished by her own hand. She was particularly looking forward to meeting Professor McGonagall again, since the Dark Lord had already claimed Potter for himself and she could not go against his wishes, as much as she wanted to teach the brat a lesson. She remembered an evening long ago, when this excursion was first planned; a drunken evening when she and her comrades had divided up the staff amongst them. Such a pity that Rodolphus was not there. She would have to take his share instead. Suddenly the Dark Lord's voice boomed through the air, bringing Bellatrix back to reality with a jump that she quickly covered.

"You are at a disadvantage, Minerva," he drawled. "I have killed your spy and you have lost your element of surprise. If you are certain that you still want to continue your weak attempt at resistance, then I'm afraid that I shall have to take more drastic action."

There was no reply from the castle. Bellatrix had not expected one. If there was one thing that she remembered from her school days, it was that the transfiguration professor had been remarkably stubborn when she wanted to be, usually on the subject of Bellatrix's missing homework.

"Then you leave me with no choice."

The Dark Lord brought his wand down against the gates to open them; the spell alone should have been enough to break the protections that Hogwarts set in place around its boundaries, but what happened next no-one could have anticipated, much less explained. As the wand met the metal, a shower of sparks erupted, red, green, yellow, blue, but above all gold. The energy was vicious and almost alive as it shot out of the point of contact; Bellatrix had to jump to one side to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

"What is this?" hissed the Dark Lord, the anger in his voice fusing with disbelief and… Bellatrix dismissed the thought from her mind as soon as it had crossed it; such a thing was surely impossible. The Dark Lord of all people did not panic. He raised his wand and tried again with more vehemence, different spells and incantations, but with each attempt the repelling force merely became stronger.

"Bellatrix," he said curtly, indicating for her to take over. Bellatrix nodded and cast the most destructive spell that she could think of at the time. The backlash from the gates coursed up her wand and into her hand, causing her to drop her wand in pain. Angered, she tried to open the gates by hand without magic, but the reaction was tenfold stronger and Bellatrix was certain that her fingers were smoking as she withdrew.

"This can't be!" roared the Dark Lord. "It's impossible! Snape is dead! I watched him die!"

"My Lord…" Bellatrix was completely confused; she had no idea what new and wholly unexpected challenge they were facing, and she had even less idea what Snape's death had to do with it. Her master turned to look at her sharply, his expression crazed.

"Snape is dead," he repeated. "But if this old magic is in place then he cannot be." He stared at the gates once more. "Unless…"

They stood in silence as the Dark Lord contemplated the status quo. For want of something to do and in ignorance of what he was thinking and planning, Bellatrix tried the gates again.

"Bellatrix, stop that," he snapped. "We are going to need a far more subtle tactic to get past this particular obstacle, a tactic that requires deep thought rather than mindless destruction."

Criticism from her master always stung, and Bellatrix took a step back, abashed.

"My Lord," ventured Rabastan. "What appears to be the problem?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes at her brother-in-law.

"I would have thought that was quite obvious, Rabastan," she said. "We can't get in."

"But surely…"

"Silence!" hissed the Dark Lord. He reached out his hand to within a half-inch of the metal and watched, almost mesmerised, as the golden sparks began to form there in anticipation of his touch. "Even after everything, they have still succeeded."

He hurled a curse at the gates and the fallout caused Rabastan and Bellatrix to duck. He whirled round and pointed his wand at Bellatrix.

"Go back to the Manor and bring Severus Snape's body back to these gates," he said, his voice dangerous and leaving no room for negotiation. "This cannot be true."

Bellatrix did not need telling twice; as much as she wanted to enjoy every minute of Hogwarts' downfall, she knew that there would be no changing the Dark Lord's mind once he was in such a state of ire. She disapparated at once and landed in front of the Manor that they had left earlier. She passed through the gates and looked up at the place her sister had called home for the past twenty years. Even Bellatrix, a self-confessed proponent of excess, knew that there was a thing as too much, and she was certain that the Manor was a touch overdone. Unfortunately she couldn't blame Lucius for that entirely; the monstrosity had been in his family for generations but every time she looked up at the foreboding gothic façade, she could not help but be touched by jealousy, that her little sister should have fallen on such good fortune. Oh, Rodolphus had not been short of wealth, not at all, but the Malfoy inheritance had always held far more prestige.

Bellatrix shook herself out of her bitter reflections and entered the darkened building in search of Severus's corpse. Of course he was dead, they'd all watched as Nagini had let the life pour out of him in a thick ruby stream before they'd departed for the school, leaving Narcissa to clear up the mess in her drawing room.

Now, however, Bellatrix was having second thoughts. However much she trusted her master implicitly; there had been an uncertainty in his voice that she had never heard before. Whatever had happened at the gates had not been meant to happen, and it had startled him. Used to simply following his orders and accepting that he knew what he was doing, this had unsettled Bellatrix. There would be a perfectly good explanation, she was sure of it. First things first, she had to find the body. She was half-considering simply yelling for her sister and asking her what, if anything, she'd done with it.

"Narcissa!" she called, her voice echoing through the empty entrance way. There was no reply. Wherever Narcissa was, she wasn't going to play along. Either she was hiding in fear of her life or sulking, but either way, she wasn't going to come out in a hurry. "Lucius?" Perhaps he might be able to help her.

Again she did not receive a reply. Where was the family? Bellatrix sighed and made her way through to the drawing room, muttering to herself.

The room was empty, the only trace of the deed that had taken place there the dark patch on the antique Persian rug that no amount of magical stain remover would get out in a hurry. Narcissa had been busy.

She left the room and stood in the hallway, wondering where she would have put the body, if it was still in the house even. Bellatrix did not want to think of the Dark Lord's reaction if she returned without the object of her mission. She cast cursory glances around the rooms on the ground floor and then made for the cellar stairs. As she flicked her wand to unlock the door, she was certain that she heard something behind her and she spun round to see who was there, but the room was empty. She scolded herself for her paranoia and looked around the cellar, but this again was empty, even of prisoners of their regime. She left the room and jumped backwards on finding herself face-to-face with her sister.

"Cissy, I didn't notice you come down. You startled me."

"It is an advantage, being able to apparate in your own house," said Narcissa coolly. "Looking for something, Bella? Severus perhaps?"

Bellatrix gave a curt nod.

"You'll have more luck in the first guest bedroom." Narcissa turned on her heel and left the cellar, Bellatrix following. Something in her sister's behaviour was making her nervous. There was a steely determination in Narcissa's voice, something that Bellatrix had not heard since she had taken it upon herself to seek out Severus to help Draco in his plight the summer before last.

"The first guest room?" she said. "A little grand for a traitor, don't you think?"

"Common courtesy to the dead," said Narcissa flatly. "You can at least give them something soft to lie on."

She stopped at the entrance to the room in question and indicated for Bellatrix to enter. It was dark; Narcissa's courtesy to the dead had extended to a single candle on the mantelpiece. Her eyes alighted on the sheet covered lump on the bed, and she raised her wand to levitate it, but before she could do so, a wave of uneasiness came over her. Severus was dead, he was definitely dead, no-one could survive what he'd gone through. There was no possible way in which he could suddenly come back to life and strangle her with his death shroud. All the same, she felt she ought to be sure.

Carefully, she lifted the cloth away from his head and blinked dumbly at the sight that met her.

"Merlin…"

Bellatrix heard the door click softly locked and looked round to see Narcissa leaning calmly against the jamb, her arms folded and a horribly neutral expression on her face.

"There is a wonderful thing, Bellatrix, named polyjuice potion. I believe you are familiar with its effects."

"Cissy…" She glanced back at Lucius's pale and lifeless face. "I… The Dark Lord… When Lucius decides to be noble, then…"

"The Dark Lord may have killed Lucius, Bella, but you yourself certainly helped him along the road to his fate. You made a very good attempt on his life on Christmas Day, I must say. If it wasn't for Cam's timely intervention then you may well have succeeded. You poisoned him."

"I…" Bellatrix's brows knitted together. She remembered the incident, of course she did, but she was certain that she had not had any express intention of poisoning her brother-in-law however tempting it had been at the time. Narcissa laughed, a hollow laugh tinged with the faintest edge of grief-borne hysteria.

"You didn't even realise! You didn't even know, much less care. Just give him the first thing to hand that knocks him out for a few hours so that you can terrorise his son." She paused. "How stupid are you, Bella? How ridiculously near-sighted do you have to be to believe that you can try to teach Draco to use the unforgiveable three against his own father, even if he was in fact some unfortunate anonymous under the influence of polyjuice?"

Bellatrix could almost hear the splash of the venom dripping from Narcissa's words onto the floorboards as she continued.

"But no, as if that was not enough you tried again. In March, to be precise, after the diadem incident. Some curses don't mix, Bella, and they especially don't mix with potions ostensibly designed to negate their effects. You know that. You're an assassin, of course you know that. You know that, but you didn't care. You didn't think. You never think. The Dark Lord's little pet viper might have finished the job but it was your actions that helped begin the journey, the journey that led to this decision and this outcome."

Bellatrix turned her wand on her sister but Narcissa merely shook her head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said. "You unfortunately don't remember what happened last time, but suffice it to say, it was not a particularly good outcome for you."

Bellatrix remembered the sudden cut-off in her memories of Rowle's death.

"You?"

Narcissa shrugged.

"This time, however, you'll lose a lot more than your memory, Bella."

Bellatrix backed up, her mind feverishly working on a strategy.

"Your own sister, Cissy?"

Narcissa shrugged.

"Weren't you the one who always said that there must be some sacrifices along the way to save yourself?"

She cast the expelliarmus unexpectedly and Bellatrix's wand flew out of her hand.

"You'll end up in Azkaban, Cissy."

Narcissa merely laughed.

"For killing a wanted murderess? I doubt it. I'm doing them a favour in the long run. But not here," she added, looking sadly at her husband. "Not in this room."

Bellatrix felt in her pocket for her knife. So many of her comrades scorned her decision of a second weapon but she could not deny that it was useful to have a wholly non-magical item upon which she could always fall back in situations like these. Before she could use it, either to throw or to rush at her sister, Narcissa had opened the door and flung Bellatrix through it in a whirlwind of magic made stronger by the second wand she held. The blade was flung from her hand and embedded itself in the doorframe, the handle quivering from the force.

"The problem with fighting me," said Narcissa, panting from the doubled backlash, "is that I know you far too well."

"Cissy, you're mad."

"Runs in the family then, doesn't it?" She doubled over to catch her breath, as Bellatrix scrambled to her feet. She looked from Narcissa to the knife and then back to her sister and the wands she was holding.

"Don't bother," said Narcissa, straightening and pointing her own wand. "It's over, Bellatrix. You brought this on yourself at Christmas, and then again in March. Hell hath no fury like a woman whose sister damn near widowed her."

Bellatrix laughed. For all that Narcissa might talk, for all that she might be able to duel and harm in that way, she knew that her sister would not have the strength to cast the ultimate spell.

"You don't have the guts, Cissy." She spread her arms wide. "Go on then. If you're that angry, if you want revenge that badly. Go on and kill me."

Narcissa replaced the wands in a pocket of her robes and folded her arms. Bellatrix sneered.

"I knew you couldn't. You had your chance back at Cam's, you could have finished me off there but you didn't. Blood is thicker than water, Cissy." She began to laugh. "I knew you couldn't."

"I already have, Bella," said Narcissa quietly. "I already have. An hour ago. The elf wine with which you toasted the Dark Lord's triumph over his traitor. Strong enough to mask the taste."

Bellatrix felt sick with the realisation, and she felt her knees give way beneath her. She had been with the Dark Lord and his invincibility for so long that she had never given thought to her own mortality. Her vision began to swim before her eyes and she couldn't tell if it was a psychological reaction to knowing that she had been poisoned, or whether this was truly the end.

"Goodbye, Bella."

Narcissa's voice was matter-of-fact as she moved away, back towards the room they had just left, but Bellatrix could just make out the telltale quiver of her lip. They had never been the closest of sisters; they had fought with tooth and talon at times and as the years had passed, they had grown only further apart.

But they were still sisters, linked undeniably by blood. They had both betrayed each other. As Bellatrix closed her eyes to the blackness threatening the edges of her vision, she thought she heard Narcissa crying.