Ldub: Thanks for reviewing! Idk if it'll go down exactly as you were hoping, but I think it'll be interesting either way!
hi: Thanks for reviewing! I'm so glad you're enjoying it! If my outline can be believed, there's about 15 chapters left in this Part, and then there's Part 4, so it'll last for a while!
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EmilyCMalfoy: Thanks for reviewing! It's so great to hear from you again! Sorry you had your phone taken :/ I'm so happy you enjoyed these past few chapters! Bellatrix doesn't understand Charlotte's feelings about Zoe, so I don't think she realized just how much Charlotte didn't want to talk about it! Thanks so much for the compliments :) I try to keep the continuity of the Harry Potter series for sure, so it's good you like that! I don't plan to give up on this story, so no worries there! Thanks so much for the hugs. It was great to hear from you again!
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This chapter is a little longer than usual; I hope that's okay!
The next chapter might take slightly longer to post because it's in much worse shape than most of them have been. Please be patient with me! I'm going to get it ready as quickly as I can. It should definitely be ready around the first of August.
CHAPTER 33
In an instant Bellatrix is on her feet, pulling me up with her as well and shifting in such a way that I almost think she's attempting to shield me from my father and my uncle with her own body. "Rodolphus, Rabastan. What are the two of you doing here?"
Rodolphus watches her, his face hard and unreadable. He seems transfixed by her, and I'm unsure if he even sees me. Not once have his eyes left her face. "Bella—Bellatrix," he breathes, the ghost of a smile twitching on his lips. "It's good—"
"I asked you a question," she says coldly. I inhale sharply at her harsh tone and immediately regret that action, for my father's eyes move from her to me. Whatever joy he found in seeing Bellatrix disappears instantly, replaced by uncontained fury.
"This must be a joke," he hisses at my mother.
She flinches and reaches back for me as if to ensure that I'm still standing there. "Rodolphus, you don't understand—"
"No, Bellatrix! I don't understand! This is our house! It is her birthday! And you—" A roar of anger. "And you bring—"
"Rodolphus—"
"NO!" he bellows, kicking over the coffee table. "How dare you disrespect her memory!" He takes a step closer to her. "How dare you bring another here on our daughter's birthday!" He growls and directs his anger at me, and I cower farther behind Mum. I place my hand on her back near her shoulder blades, trying to convince myself that she's still here and that I'm not in danger and that Rodolphus isn't furious. "Miss Rodgers, you need to leave." Again he steps closer, but this time Bellatrix shifts to further block me from his view. "You need to leave now."
"Don't speak to her," Bellatrix says.
His eyes jolt to Mum. "You bring her here and—" Rabastan grabs his brother's wrist before he can go for his wand. "HOW DARE YOU!" He seems oblivious to Rabastan's grip. "YOU CAN'T JUST REPLACE OUR DAUGHTER, BELLATRIX!"
"Why are you here, Rodolphus?" she asks calmly.
His eyes twitch from me to her, and his hand closes into a fist. "I came here to honor my daughter on her birthday," he says, sounding so defeated that all I want to do is hug him and tell him who I am. He deserves to know. But Voldemort will hurt him if he learns the truth, so I fight down my desire. "I came here to pay my respects, as I have done every chance I've had since our escape from Azkaban."
Bellatrix again tries to speak, but he cuts her off. "Why is she here?"
"You think you're the only one who comes here to honor our daughter's memory?"
"And you thought it was appropriate to bring Charlotte here? On Aurelia's birthday?" The idea seems to infuriate him again. "You can't—"
"You brought Rabastan." She seems to be losing her calm stance, the muscles in her back tensing dangerously, and that makes me much more uneasy, uncomfortable. I don't want to know what'll happen when two Death Eaters of their caliber commence a battle right here in this living room. "Is that any different than me bringing Charlotte?"
"It's different! Rabastan helped me through the death of my baby—"
"Our baby!" I press my hand against her back, hoping that my presence will calm her, but the muscles there are still incredibly tense. I'm not succeeding in my attempt to soothe her, and fear grows in my chest.
"When we lost Aurelia, I needed someone to mourn with because you certainly weren't going to be there!" They're feeding on each other's anger; it's no wonder they didn't stay together after my death. I share a strained glance with Rabastan, but neither of us make a move to stop this. "Rabastan stood by me when you gallivanted away!"
"If you didn't notice, Rodolphus," she growls, her fury rising in a way that I have not heard in a while, "I was grieving just as badly as you were! The child I gave birth to, the child I loved from the moment I learned I was pregnant, the child I adored more than life itself, was dead! Don't you dare act as if you were the only one who lost something that day!"
"No, you're right. We both lost something that day. You lost your baby. I lost my entire family." She opens her mouth to say something, but he continues, "I always had this feeling that something dreadful was going to happen to our daughter. I had this feeling that someone was going to come after her. Then she got killed. But I was prepared for that. I was prepared for the loss of our little girl—"
"Then how can you compare our grief? Not once did I think something was going to happen to my daughter! I believed she was safe! I was not ready for it!"
"How can I compare our grief?" he laughs sarcastically. "Like I already said, you lost your daughter, but I lost my family! We could've been a family—you and me and Aurelia! But I lost that chance with her death!"
"But you were prepared for it!"
"You're right! I was prepared to lose my daughter! But I was not—I WAS NOT—prepared for my wife to face dive into insanity!"
"You think I'm insane?"
"Yes, Bella! You went insane! I had no one to turn to but my brother!" Rabastan makes a strange face at me, one that almost makes me smile, but neither of my parents seems to notice us. He winks at me, and a grin comes to my face though I'm unsure why. "He's here with me now, as he was then! He's been here for me since you went—"
"Insane?"
"Yes! You went—you are insane! You fucking Cruciated that man and his wife until they lost their minds!"
"How—"
"And now look at yourself! You find some girl"—he points an accusing finger at me—"who would be the same age as our daughter and begin treating her as if she is Aurelia! Wake up, Bella! She will never be Aurelia! She will never be our little girl!" His hand begins trembling, and he wipes his face. His voice is thick when he adds, "If you want to see our baby, you have to go to the cemetery, where her bones have no doubt turned to dust by now."
"Rodolphus," she tries, her voice surprisingly kind.
Rabastan frowns at me, then cuts his brother an odd look.
He doesn't let her finish, but his voice is much softer when he speaks again. "How can you think about replacing her, Bella?" He shakes off his brother, grabs his bag, and pulls out a teddy bear. "Do you remember this?" She inhales sharply. "She used to hold it while she slept. She would wrap herself around that blanket of hers and hold onto her bear." He tosses the stuffed creature onto the sofa. My eyes follow it for moment. "Bella, how can you dream of replacing her? She was perfect. No one can ever measure up to her."
Tears spring up in my eyes against my will, and I curl my hand into a fist against my mother's back. She leans into slightly as if to tell me that she's still here. "I know that," she says.
Rodolphus runs his hand through his shoulder-length hair, which is not pulled up as I have always seen it. "What happened to us?" he whispers.
The muscles in her back lose their tension. She exhales.
He takes a step closer to her. "We can fix it, Bella, I know we can." Then he takes another step. "Please. I want my family back. We can be a family—the two of us." My father raises his hand and places it on her cheek. "We can fix it. I love you, Bella, please. We can fix us." He slowly lowers his face to hers, then captures her lips with his.
I sidestep away from the two of them and make my way closer to Rabastan, unsure how to feel about everything that's happening. I meet his eyes, and he bends down to whisper, "He doesn't believe it's you. I can't convince him otherwise." My mouth drops open, and I'm about to ask him something when he puts a finger on my chin and gently pushes my face toward my parents. Bellatrix's hands find Rodolphus's chest, and for a moment I honestly believe that we can all be happy together.
But then she makes a strangled sound and shoves him away from her, not violently but firmly. "Don't."
"Bella—"
"Stop."
"We used to be happy. We used to sit in here, on that sofa, and watch our daughter sleep in her crib right there." He points over by the fire, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "We…we used to be happy," he whispers. "We used to be so happy." Then he collapses to his knees before Mum, his hands on her hips. "We were a family, Bella." He chokes down a sob. "We can be a family again." He pulls her closer and buries his face into a belly. "We can be a family again. Please."
My mother intently watches the fire, tears shining in her eyes. "We can't, Rodolphus," she says quietly. "We can't."
Rodolphus takes a deep, broken breath, then releases his hold on her and hangs his head, slouching, his body vibrating as he weeps softly. All I want to do is rid him of his pain, but I can't.
Rabastan places his hand on my shoulder for just a second, a sadness in his eyes. "He'll come around," he whispers in my ear. "I just have to find the proof."
Then he moves toward my father and slides his hands under his arms and hauls him to his feet. "Forgive me," Rodolphus says to no one in particular. Then he snatches his bag and Disapparates, Rabastan looking at me once more before following his brother.
Once again I'm left alone in the cottage with Bellatrix.
"Mum—"
She throws up her hand in a silent command for me to stop talking, and I immediately obey, not wanting to push her any further right now. Then she spins on her heel and walks out of the room, closing a door loudly behind. Unsure if I should follow her or not, I just stand there.
Should I tell her what Rabastan said to me? Would she tell the Dark Lord?
My eyes fall on the teddy bear on the sofa, and I put Rabastan out of my mind and walk to the sofa where I sit down and pick up the little bear. My father needs to know who I am. Or would that make matter worse? If he learns that Bellatrix knew I was alive but did not tell him, would that make him resent her? I don't want that for some reason. I like the thought that he still loves her. And maybe we can be a family once this is over. Maybe I won't actually be killed by Voldemort. Maybe I stand a chance at surviving through this to the end.
I pull the teddy bear close to my chest, bury my face against its head, and breathe deeply. For some reason I feel comforted even though I don't truly remember ever holding this bear. I was too young to have memories, but the idea of holding something that I held when I was a carefree, innocent child makes me feel…I don't know, better somehow.
Glass shatters from the backroom where Bellatrix retreated moments ago, and I quickly set the bear aside and run to see what she has done. In the large room that my mother and father once shared Bellatrix is in the process of smashing the windows with her bare hands, the mirror already destroyed. The glass on the floor is stained red, the same red that covers her hands and rushes down her arms and into her sleeves. "Mum!" I shout, rushing over to her. "Mum, stop!" I grab her arms and pin them to her side, pulling her away from the glass, and we collapse to the floor, my back against the wall, the blood on her sliced hands making me cringe even though I don't feel the pain of it myself.
"I don't hate him," she whispers, holding her trembling hands up as if to inspect them. "I don't hate him. I need you to know that I don't hate your father, Aurelia. I don't."
"I never thought you did," I say, removing my hands from her arms, wrapping one around her shoulders and one around her waist. I hold her closely, her back to my chest, and place my chin on her shoulder. "I've never thought that you hate him."
She leans her head back on my shoulder, breathing deeply.
I reach for my wand and repair the windows and the mirror, ignoring the way she tenses as the glass leaves her hands to go back to its rightful place. "I can't heal your hands. It's one of the major flaws in my magical education."
Her wand shaking terribly, she begins healing her own hands. While she does that, I wave my wand and a warm, wet towel flies into the room. Once the wounds on her hands are closed, I start wiping the blood off her hands. "Sometimes I do think about our family, the family we could have been," she says as I clean the blood.
"Why can't we tell him?"
"The Dark Lord forbids it."
"But why?"
"The more people that know the truth, the riskier it becomes."
"But he's not just anyone, Mum, he's my dad. He deserves to know."
"While that might be true, he is not entitled to know." I try to argue some more, but she continues, "Aurelia, there's no other choice. He cannot know. The Dark Lord would punish him if he found out, might even kill him. Wouldn't you prefer him be alive and ignorant rather than dead?"
"Fine," I huff. For right now I guess I have no other choice.
"You must not tell him," she demands as if having read my thoughts.
"I won't."
"Aurelia—"
"I said I won't."
We stay there on the floor for nearly twenty minutes, completely silent.
I want my father to help me escape my fate. I need him to help me escape my fate. If he were to help, I think he and Severus and McGonagall could most certainly get me away from this nightmare. I wouldn't have to go through any of this.
Then, finally, Mum reaches up and rubs my arm that is around her shoulders. "We should get up."
I don't really want to do that, but how am I to say no to her when she so obviously wants to do something, anything, to take her mind off everything that just happened between her and my father? I remove my arm from around her, push against my the wall with my back, and force myself to my feet. "C'mon then," I say, offering her my hand and helping her to her feet.
She watches me curiously, almost a hint of anger in her eyes for a moment when she's finally upright once more, and for a split second I fear that she could read my thoughts, my wishes, about Severus, McGonagall, Rodolphus, and Rabastan helping me escape Voldemort. Then the anger disappears, and she says, "Would you like something to eat?"
And suddenly I no longer fear that she heard my thoughts. She isn't angry with me, and she doesn't want to hurt me. That fear is quickly replaced by embarrassment. How could she see my thoughts without me knowing? Not even Severus is that talented at Legilimency. I smile at her. "Yeah, food sounds nice." Even though it really almost doesn't because of all the tarts I so recently stuffed my face with. "What did you have in mind?" And even if I hadn't eaten so many sweets, I still don't think I'd be able to eat after having witnessed an argument between my parents the first time I ever saw them together away from Voldemort.
She just smiles, then leaves the room without another word. I breathe a sigh of relief and sink to the floor. Rabastan knows who I am. He knows. How could he possibly know the truth? And what is he doing to "get proof"? Do I even want to know how he's trying to find proof? I don't need to worry about this at all until I'm away from Bellatrix and not tempted to tell her, talk to her, about what Rabastan told me.
So I force my uncle's confession from my mind and follow after Mum to the kitchen. "I have a question. If you don't mind, that is," I say. She seems to be making some sort of soup. That's probably for the best. I doubt if I can eat much right now anyway. She glances at me warily but does not refuse, and I take that as permission to ask. "Why can't we be a family again? With Rodolphus, I mean."
"We can't."
"Do you have a real reason or are you just—"
"If we were to be a family again, he would have to know about you."
"But he never said anything about being a family with me—Aurelia—again. He wants to be a family again with you, just you."
She sighs, and the knife chopping the vegetables I assume were to go into the soup ceases its movement. "I can't," she says, such finality in her voice that I know she is done speaking on the subject.
"Are you serious?" I snap, my tone harsher than I originally planned. I soften my voice and continue, "He was on his knees. He was begging you for another chance. Why can't you give him that? All he wants is a chance!"
"I can't do that to him."
"What do you mean by that?"
Her face clearly shows the anger that is bubbling inside her, but she keeps calm when she says, "I care for Rodolphus, Aurelia. I need you to know that. But I am not in love with him anymore. I can't live like that."
"But you used to love him."
"The feeling died with you."
"And was replaced by a love for the Dark Lord, right? You're in love with him now?"
Surprisingly, she does not seem the least bit upset with me. Instead her face seems sad. "I am no longer speaking about this." The knife begins chopping the vegetables once again.
I take a deep breath and whisper, "I…I'm sorry, Mum."
She looks over at me and smiles. "You were merely being curious." Though she says this calmly, her eyes burn with fury.
I drop the subject completely, not wanting to cause a rift between the two of us after everything that has already happened. I would prefer that this weekend go smoothly rather than terribly. I wave my wand, and a spoon comes out of one of the drawers. Bellatrix doesn't notice. She seems to be concentrating solely on cooking, probably to stop herself from shouting at me or harming me. Once the spoon is in my hand, I walk to where my mother is standing and reach around her, attempting to steal a bite from the large pot of boiling soup, but with a flick of her wand the spoon flies from my hand and clatters to the floor. I smile at her despite myself. "I guess I'll wait then."
"I guess you will." A grin threatens the corner of her lips, but she fights it down.
I jump onto the counter next to the knife and vegetables and watch her. Bellatrix does not look at me. I can't talk about Rabastan, I can't talk about him. She cannot know—she'll tell the Dark Lord, and he'll be tortured or worse. After a few short moments of breathing deeply, I say, "Is it okay if I ask you something else?"
Her eyes dart over to me and watch me for a second. "I do not promise to answer any more of your questions, but you can ask them."
I pause and take a short breath. "It's about Mrs. Stoico." You can't use her as a distraction from Rabastan. That's pathetic.
Her jaw clenches, and I instantly feel a deep regret. Perhaps bringing up Mrs. Stoico again this soon was a bad idea, but if I don't talk about something other than Rabastan, I'm going to crack and tell her. And what better subject than something I actually kind of want to know about?
Bellatrix and I simply stare at each other in silence, more or less waiting for the other to speak rather than speaking first. It takes a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence before she finally says, "What about her?"
Don't talk about Rabastan. "If…if she was truly serving the Dark Lord, why would she fight her father? Why would he be so willing to kill her?"
Instead of becoming angry, Bellatrix just looks at me sadly. "Abigail was trusted deeply by the Dark Lord, was one of the few of us who still were at that point. Towards the end of the war, people were switching sides every day. The only ones who were allowed to collect you from the orphanage were Lucius and Narcissa. All others were to be stopped at any—"
"Even her own father?"
"Yes, even her own father. Avery was one of the questionable ones. With his wife so openly turning against the Dark Lord, it was hard to believe that she had not infected his mind. Abigail had no choice but to fight him. That she had to die is a shame, but she did so to protect you. There is no way to know if Avery would have harmed you."
My throat grows thick. Don't talk about Rabastan. "Why didn't she just tell him—her father—that she was under orders of the Dark Lord?"
"She didn't trust him," Bellatrix says. "According to my father-in-law, Avery attacked her first." Did Rabastan's father know who I am? Stop thinking about Rabastan before you slip and say something.
"I was there," I argue. "That's not what happened. She said that she had been raised to serve the Dark Lord, but that she would never do that. She refused to hand me over because she believed the Dark Lord was dead. Avery said that she could have taken her rank in the Inner Circle but that she had betrayed the Dark Lord."
"He didn't know it, but she had taken her rank. She had taken his position."
"Then why would—"
"He was trying to set her off. Abigail had a temper. If he could anger her, he knew he could defeat her. And he did. She was supposed to remain calm and keep you safe. Avery couldn't know that she was following orders, so she said she was against the Dark Lord."
Is Rabastan against the Dark Lord? Is that why he and Rodolphus were willing to let Zoe escape? How does Rodolphus not know? I have to look away from her. Stop thinking about them. I was hoping…I don't know what I was hoping, honestly. That maybe Bellatrix was wrong. That maybe Mrs. Stoico had actually cared for me and was not just playing the part for Voldemort. That maybe I had been right about her all along. I thought she was against Voldemort, that she wanted to save me. Just like you think Rabastan might try to help you. You can't trust anyone. They all serve him. I wipe a silent tear from my cheek and slide off the counter. Everything has been a lie. All of it. Everything I've ever known was false. I should've just accepted it when Bellatrix told me before. I shouldn't have asked again. I hate her, that fake woman who only protected me under orders of the Dark Lord.
Sometime later she speaks again. "Aurelia, I told you already that she was true to the Dark Lord. Did you think my answer would change in that short amount of time?"
I roll my eyes, annoyed at her words. I can't trust any of them. No one actually wants me to be free of Voldemort. Except Severus. I'll always be able to trust Severus. "I was hoping the facts were blurred and that you would be wrong about her. She was the only mother I had for so many years, don't you see that? And now I've learnt that she only did all of those things because the Dark Lord ordered her to."
She walks over to me and leans against the counter beside me. "There's no need to wallow about this further. You'll come to terms with it eventually, but I don't want you dwelling on this. You believe she betrayed you, and you can think that all you want, but as I have already explained to you, she cared about you. How could she not? It's time for you to put Abigail Avery behind you for good."
I close my eyes for a split second, wanting to attack her. Then I nod at her. "Fine."
"Dinner's ready."
A weak smile pulls to my lips.
And I mean I guess she's right—Mrs. Stoico is the least of my concerns right now. How could I possibly be concerned about her when Rabastan told me to my face that he knows who I am? Part of me still wants to tell Mum. I don't want this secret right now. Why did he have to tell me that? Why did he have to confess that to me? He should've kept that to himself.
Mum watches me as if she knows I'm keeping something from her. I don't like keeping this from her, but it's the only thing I can do right now.