(crossposted from AO3) As usual, new fandom, new warning: English is certainly not my mother tongue, so I make mistakes. No one does beta my works. I'm not immune to typing errors. I try to avoid doing grammar atrocities. But I'm French. Not British or anything else. I do what I can. I hope it's not too bad.
That being said, I hope you can still enjoy this story.
Latest summary: The House of Black was a family of long history - two thousand and five hundred years behind them - and their familial affinity with magic had always been dark magic. And for all that Sirius was very much different from his family... He was also one of the Blackest Blacks to ever live.
So when Bella killed him, well. He didn't let her get away with it. A gamble, really, but a gamble which exchanged their life and death.
Which meant he was still here, stuck with an inconvenient ghost, exposed to the wizarding world for what he really was - not a traitor, never, but a dark wizard by birth, yes, and that might prove a problem even if he decided never to use dark magic again - trying to make things easier for Harry, harder for Voldepant's goons, hopefully venting his resentment in useful ways, constructing his family back into something positive this time, saving as many lives as possible. Living, once again.
Of course, the world was ablaze again in the meantime.
Oh, and I'm all for happy endings. But before the end, there might be suffering.
More in the end note.
Chapter 1: The Reciprocation Curse
He knew he had no time for that. Harry was out there, somewhere in the Department of Mysteries, with Death Eaters running around and trying to kill the kids, but well. He couldn't help it.
After all, it was his wand, just here, behind the glass, waiting for him.
His wand.
The one he had purchased at Ollivanders the year he had gone to Hogwarts for the first time. The one that had been taken away from him after the Wormtail fiasco. The one that, curiously, the Ministry hadn't destroyed after his being thrown in Azkaban.
It was there, waiting for him.
Sirius took a deep breath.
He really had no time for this, but he also felt that he couldn't, wouldn't be able to ignore the urge to take back what was his. Actually, dealing with it right now, instead of postponing and feeling guilty over the need he had to waste time with this when everyone else was fighting in the other rooms, might be a faster way to go back to business.
After all, hexing and jinxing and occasionally cursing their ennemies would be easier with his own wand. Hell, he yearned for a Furnunculus curse on Bella. That would definitely be splendid.
The wand he was using since his return to the Order wasn't exactly bad, but it wasn't his. It had never accepted him, because it was a discarded wand that Kingsley had found in some dubious place Sirius didn't want to know about. It was useful enough, considering that at least, this way, he had a wand, but it wasn't his in any way.
Staying still, thinking he had no time for that, was another way to waste time, so he might as well waste it usefully.
Sirius Black quickly looked at the room he had ended up in while fighting a now unconscious and tied up Death Eater. It was dark, like every other place in the Department of Mysteries at night, small, and crowded with furniture of all sorts. Shelves, cupboards, closets, but also many other things such as a displayed skeleton. Who the hell had thought it was a good idea to put a skeleton on display?
Surely someone from his family. That was so like them.
Whatever. The only interesting thing for Sirius in this room – besides himself, of course – was the storage cabinet with the glass doors in front of him.
There might have been wards preventing people from taking the wands which were kept in it, but he doubted it. It was, after all, in the middle of the Department of Mysteries. People weren't supposed to come in and wander around and finally take what they liked before leaving.
So Sirius opened the cupboard.
Nothing happened, which was a relief.
His fingers brushed past the wands. Why they had been kept here, he didn't know. But the names on the plates next to each of the wands made it clear: the interest the Ministry had in these wands wasn't random.
How his own wand had ended up here too was a mystery. Why, after all, would anyone think it deserved to be put away with dark mages' and some of the most unfamous wizards' wands? Even if they had believed him to be a mass murderer working for Voldepants, Sirius Black surely wasn't enough for the brains of the Department to wonder about him. He wasn't powerful enough, not dark enough, not...
But they had believed he had murdered thirteen persons with one spell, so the evil criterion was checked. And he was powerful, if not outrageously strong like Dumbledore or Voldemort were. And he was a Black.
So he totally could apply, with what they believed about his part in the last war, for the same consideration the wizards whose wands were put away in this room had gotten.
Powerful. Evil. Dangerous.
Even while locked up in Azkaban.
The plate "Sirius Black" was right next to the "Vitellius Travers" one – a dark wizard from two centuries prior – because wizards had this curious way of arranging things, but that wasn't the most ashaming part. Sirius winced when he saw the six other Black names that had deserved to be brought in here. Bellatrix, of course, and five of their ancestors.
The Blacks were the only family that came up more than thrice amongst the plates.
Sirius seized his wand and left the room in haste, willing to forget that his family was definitely the most evil one of Great Britain, but not without hexing the unconscious Death Eater purple and yellow. He'd had the thought that red and gold was a good idea too, since the man was most likely a Slytherin, but he wasn't going to sully Gryffindor with a filthy Death Eater wearing, even unwillingly, its colors.
He opened a door and came back in the Death Chamber.
Apparently, he hadn't wasted as much time thinking about whether or not he should take his wand back as he'd believed, and things hadn't changed much. Moody, Bella, Remus, Malfoy, Kingsley, and the other Death Eaters or members of the Order of the Phoenix were still battling each other, the children had more or less succeeded in escaping the ones who were trying to take them hostages, and Harry was being reckless as always, cursing and fighting random Death Eaters to protect an unconscious Hermione Granger.
Sirius took a deep breath, and turned around to stupefy an idiot who thought he could surprise him defenseless.
Strangely, the Death Eater was sent flying across the room and crashed against a wall.
That was a bit more than a simple stunning.
Two Death Eaters, as well as Tonks, stopped fighting for a short while after seeing this, but their opponents quickly reminded them of the current battles. Remus, while knocking out his enemy, gave him a quick glance and recognized the wand. Contentment and resentment fought on his face, but he still had some masked bastards to incapacitate, so he decided to leave the scolding for later.
Everything after that was fast.
Sirius remembered fighting with Lucius Malfoy at some point, getting closer to Harry before being drawn into another fight, and then...
He avoided a cruciatus curse and came face to face with a feminin lookalike.
"Bella."
"Sirius."
It was uncomfortable how they looked like each other. He was a man, she was a woman, he had straight hair, she had curly hair, he was angry, she was mad. But they were too similar, with their slightly drooping grey eyes, their mass of ink-black hair, their aristocratic elegance despite their poor post-Azkaban condition, their good looks. They were Blacks.
"I see you got your wand back."
Sirius cast a Knockback jinx powerful enough to blow off the stairs right behind his cousin. He frowned. His magic was behaving strangely since he had gotten his wand back.
"I saw yours too, cousin dearest. But I won't tell you where."
Bellatrix grunted and cast a blue spell which he immediately shielded.
"It's such a shame you're so adamant against siding with the Dark Lord. I know you, Sirius. Deep down, you're a Black. The Dark Arts are calling for you, as they are calling for me. Lucius told me you're still on the Wall of the Lords and your name wouldn't go off, even though the Ministry tried to have Narcissa take the Ladyship."
This time it was Sirius who rumbled, clearly annoyed that magic considered him to be the one and only Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He had no desire to be the head of such a rotten family.
"Remember how you used dark magic when you were only seve..."
The wizard wouldn't bear it anymore. He didn't let her finish her sentence and went for a Reductor Curse that he half-hoped would blast his cousin into pieces.
Then he heard shouting from where Harry was the last time he had checked, and his eyes searched for his godson.
Unfortunately, Bellatrix had shielded his curse just in time, and, although she seemed to have difficulties standing, she was still in one piece.
"Time to go, cousin."
Sirius turned around only to see a spell going for his chest. He let go of his wand.
It wasn't the killing curse, obviously, or he'd have been dead. But his whole body was sent flying, and his destination was ominous enough for him to be sure he wouldn't survive it.
The wizard deliberated faster than he had ever deliberated. The Veil – he may or may not have spent the last uneventful months extracting information about what the Department of Mysteries had in handy from the members of the Order who spent time here, playing sentinels – was only inches behind him, he would soon pass the archway. He had no time. He had to make a choice.
Sirius saw Harry being threatened by some unknown Death Eater, the kids struggling against some psychos, Tonks, Kinsgley, Moody battling fiercely, Remus running to Harry's location and glancing at him with horror, and Bella's maddening smile.
Anger rose in his heart.
He silenced it.
She had it coming, didn't she?
Quiet words went through his lips, and he fell behind the Veil.
His shadow had left his body, and crawled to his cousin's, but no one saw that. No one noticed him casting a last spell before dying. It was for the best. Of course, all hell broke loose, and no one had time to notice.
Bellatrix ran away singing about how she had killed her cousin. Harry went after her, tried a Cruciatus curse on her, and hell, Sirius could feel it, it wasn't nearly strong enough to even startle her. Then he saw – though he wasn't certain how he could see, but he saw nonetheless – Voldemort coming, and Dumbledore saving Harry. Everything was a bit blurry, so only anxiety and fear reached his mind, and then he saw Voldepants coming nearer, and grabbing him... well, Bella, before apparating away. Interesting how the Dark Bastard seemed to care for his cousin, even if he was clearly able to torture her on a whim.
What was sure, Sirius thought, was that no one had understood he was still there, linked to Bellatrix's life, and more or less able to sense what she sensed. Soon enough, he'd have a body of his own too – or at least he hoped, since the Reciprocation Curse wasn't usually used by people whose body had disappeared.
When that time would come, it'd be better if he knew at least where he was, and with who. He would most likely come back to life with a bunch of Death Eaters around, so it was a good thing, really, for him to know beforehand.
The Reciprocation Curse was a Black family secret. Even the family members usually didn't know much about it. They knew it existed, but they didn't know the incantation.
Sirius would have snorted, if only he had a body, because only the Lord of the House of Black and his Heirs knew the incantation. Only him knew how risky the curse was, how many of them had failed the spell and died. After all, the one who used the curse was always one doomed to die – to be murdered to be accurate – so usually people couldn't tell the difference if they failed.
Bella glanced at her dearest Dark Lord, and so Sirius was forced to look at him too.
Voldepants was simply this rotten that he didn't look much like a human being anymore.
Sirius shrugged internally.
The Reciprocation Curse was definitely dark magic. Knowing how Tom Riddle looked like before becoming... this, was enough of a giveaway of what the overuse of dark magic could do to someone. Sirius wasn't particularly keen on the use of the Dark Arts, he basically loathed it, but...
Bella was right.
He was a Black.
And a gifted one at that.
Losing his own good looks wasn't exactly the worst thing that could happen to him.
Paying a little more attention to their surroundings, Sirius noticed they were in a richly decorated building, with pretentiously high windows and walls half-hidden with magical paintings of wizards and witches glaring at the intruders. The most recent ones, when they recognized Voldemort, looked away. Not far away from Bellatrix was a fireplace with a jar containing a green powder. Sirius knew he'd have to escape quickly when he would actually come back to life, and guessed he would not be able to apparate. If it happened here, he knew how to.
Now, the thing was that he had no idea how much time was needed for the curse to finish its work.
From what his grandfather had taught him, along with the curse itself, only three of the Blacks who had tried to use the Reciprocation Curse had succeeded in their attempt, while the eight others had simply died at the hands of their murderers. The process to come back to life took usually less than an hour, but he had no idea if it would be ten minutes or fifty-nine. And, well, he still wasn't sure of his success.
So he could only wait, hoping that no one would have the bright idea to kill Bellatrix before he did, "no one" being a snake-faced-nearly-not-human-anymore scum. If Voldemort killed – for whatever reason he may have, you never knew with Voldepants – his cousin, Sirius could forget all hope to come back to life.
Well, not that he was really eager to.
Sirius Black wasn't known to fear death, quite the contrary, actually.
But he also knew that the war against Voldemort had just begun. He wanted to protect Harry, and everyone else if he could, and for that, he needed to be alive.
Even if that meant he had to give in to the Dark Arts for once.
He only hoped he wouldn't be drawn to it again and again afterwards. He also knew it was a vain wish. Still, somehow, he'd have to control it, and not to become as wicked as Bella was by the same token. Not that he feared to be controlled by the dark magic... He was a Black, after all.
Whatever, he had made a choice, now, and he'd have to live with it.
If he got to live, of course.
By the way, Voldemort was obviously not pleased.
The prophecy had been broken into pieces, Harry Potter was still alive, the Ministry knew he was back, and he had lost some of his followers, and all that at the same time. Three of these failures were to be blamed onto Dumbledore, but the first one... Yes, for the first one, he could punish someone, he only had to find a Death Eater who he could vent his anger on.
Anyone would tell you a grumpy Voldepants was not good to have around – though probably not with those specific words.
Voldemort grabbed Bellatrix's arm without care, and used her Dark Mark to call his remaining followers.
Figures appeared in Sirius' line of sight – well, Bella's – figures cloaked in black and wearing wary expressions. Why the hell they had chosen to follow a man who had the disturbing habit of torturing and killing his followers as well as his enemies was beyond Sirius, but well, they were here.
The Death Eater who had him the most concerned apparated second to last.
Severus Snape, with his greasy hair and hooked nose, stood silently on the other side of the room with some other Death Eaters. Sirius's vision was too blurry to count how many of them were there, but he was certain he couldn't see the blond hair of Malfoy, surely tied up and nearly on his way to Azkaban back at the Ministry.
"Your fellow Death Eaters utterly failed their mission, and by doing so, failed me. I hope none of you will disappoint me as much in the future."
Many wizards shivered at the statement, not deaf to the rising displeasure in the Dark Bastard's voice. Sirius mentally snorted. The guy definitely had mental and control issues.
And if he could let go of his arm, too – wait, Bella's arm, but still, his arm – that'd be great.
Voldepants rambled about how they were all fools and literally useless, a random Death Eater said something and was hexed in warning, and Sirius finally noticed that he himself was getting angry as well. Not slightly angry, as he was supposed to be after being murdered by his own cousin, but so angry he could have used some Unforgivables Curses to feel better if he had a body.
As sick as it sounded, it was a good sign, and meant the Reciprocation Curse was working just fine.
Voldemort sat on a chair which resembled a throne quite a bit, and looked over his followers with disdain. Bellatrix, not daring to look at him directly as she always did with infinite adoration, had joined the other Death Eaters, Thorfinn Rowle, one of the Travers, and others he didn't really care about enough to remember their names right now. Severus was looking grumpy, but he always looked angry, so that was usual, and in the end, he was right to be, with the current state of their crusade.
"The results of this mission are desastrous. The only good point, and when I say good point, it's out of humor, of course, when we lost more than half of our men, is this one: Severus' Hogwarts nemesis died at Bellatrix's hands. Which means we lost a dozen of Death Eaters, and only inflicted a small wound at the Order's side, while the Ministry can't ignore us anymore. Now, will one of you tell me who is to blame?"
Snape looked more shocked than happy with the piece of news, and he surely wasn't even thinking about Voldemort's question. The man frowned, unsure of what to do. He definitely couldn't express his joy with the current situation and the Dark Lord's anger, and beside that, he wasn't exactly happy that Sirius Black had died. Many assumed it was because he had wanted to kill him himself.
Sirius almost felt bad for hating the man so much. Almost.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Bellatrix felt something strange.
As if someone was here, spying on her.
The witch looked around, searching for someone who shouldn't be here, and saw no one. It wasn't exactly surprising, after all. She had this feeling the spy was in her head, one way or another, so they weren't likely to be around.
Two answers: either she was growing mad, or there really was someone with access to her mind.
The why and how, she didn't know. But if someone could see what was happening, she had to stop them before they could gather enough information or anything they were looking for.
Her eyes set on Severus, and she grinned.
Whoever the spy was, they wouldn't be able to withstand legilimency – not without revealing themselves. And the two wizards able to do that perfectly in the room were the Dark Lord and Severus. Bellatrix wasn't going to ask the Dark Lord, of course. But she could still ask the potion master.
Something – well, maybe someone – shivered in the back of her mind.
Snape was considering the fact that Sirius Black was dead when he saw Bellatrix coming closer. It was suspicious, and seeing the grin on her face, definitely not to talk about the weather.
"Bellatrix, may I do something for you?"
Knowing her, he feared she'd ask him to torture some muggle or muggleborn to prove his loyalty and his beliefs. And Severus wouldn't be able to refuse, even though he couldn't bear the madness of the Dark Lord and his certitudes anymore. How had he even thought all this was right, when he had been in love with Lily Evans, a muggleborn – but it had never been about right or wrong, had it?
He inwardly winced remembering how much of a fool he had been back then.
The witch was looking at him with satisfaction.
"I want you to take a look in my head."
Severus was dumbfounded, and he wasn't the only one. The two nearest Death Eaters were staring in their direction, trying to make sense of the situation, and stopped paying any attention to what their Dark Lord was saying to Travers Junior, or whatever was his name.
"You want who to do what?"
Bellatrix's grin grew wider as she answered.
"You. Take a look in my head."
"And why would I want to do that? Your mind is surely filled with dementors and torture scenes, so you'll excuse me if I'm reluctant to take a look."
He shuddered when she almost leaned on him and whispered in his ear.
"I think someone is sneaking inside my head, though I have no idea how."
Snape squinted his eyes, uncertain of what to do.
Well, if someone was spying on them in some way, they had shamefully failed when Bellatrix had caught on their spying, and as a Death Eater, it would be better for him to comply. What excuse could he give not to do it, after all?
"Fine, I'll do it. But don't you dare to trick me or you'll pay for it."
Bellatrix looked at him with the eyes of the innocent, and Severus found himself uncomfortably trying to ignore her resemblance with her cousin. Why were the Blacks so terribly beautiful and unnerving, in the name of Merlin? Now he wanted to punch her for using this trick on him and for looking like the deceased Sirius Black when she was the one who had killed him.
And, well, he was a bit angry with not actually being happy about Sirius' death, and that he had flinched at her tarnished beauty while she looked so much like him. Maybe he was searching for comparisons where there weren't any, but still. He was sure Sirius Black would be laughing out loud if he knew his thoughts about how he was angry with such stupid things.
And indeed, Sirius Black was roaring with laughter in the back of Bella's mind.
He knew it wasn't a good thing that she had asked Snape to read her mind, oh yes, he knew it, but still, this was too good to be overlooked.
Bella was basically flirting with Snivellus. Even if it wasn't to seduce him, only to get what she wanted – that is, to utterly unnerve the wizard – it was too damn funny.
Well, still, this was going to get ugly if the curse didn't finish its work pretty soon.
Bellatrix and Severus walked out, under the surprised eyes of most of the Death Eaters present. They entered a small room and Snape took out his wand.
Damn, Sirius swore mentally, no fireplace in here.
Bella shivered. The presence in her head was getting stronger.
"Legilimens!"
Bellatrix forced herself to open her mind and not to resist the invasion, and she clearly felt that someone else was trying to resist alongside her subconscious.
Snape frowned as he overlooked thoughts and memories. Some of it might have been useful to the Order, but she would notice if he lingered around. He was looking for something peculiar, not for some of the most sickening moments in Bellatrix Lestrange's life. He was looking for something, someone, that shouldn't be here, and...
Severus' eyes widened. That wasn't possible. It couldn't, shouldn't be, it...
That's when he felt the wave of darkness inside her mind – creeping, crawling, carefully eating away at her agency.
"What is it, Severus?"
The wizard took a step back, breaking the mental link to protect himself. His wand pointed towards Bellatrix, well, what he had assumed to be Bellatrix, he squinted his eyes.
The witch suddenly seemed lost.
She collapsed at his feet, and the dull sound of her body crashing against the floor resonated in the room. Hurried footsteps were heard, and the door soon opened violently, letting three Death Eaters in who looked at Severus and Bellatrix warily.
"What the hell are you two doi... Wait, Severus, what did you do to her?"
The potion master winced at the accusation.
"Nothing. But I believe you should take a hold of your wand. I'm not certain of what this all mean, but I can tell you for sure that there is something wrong with her. She may try... something."
Everyone looked at him bewildered. Snape really looked serious about that, afraid, even, and that wasn't, couldn't be a good thing. Severus Snape wasn't a man to be easily afraid.
Bella was writhing in pain. This was definitely the effects of some dark magic, but how could she... Never mind, she wasn't exactly in the right state to wonder about this kind of things.
Something switched, and she couldn't breathe anymore.
Then she could again. But she wasn't the one breathing. Her body was breathing. Her body was moving, standing up again. But not her mind. Her mind wasn't able to do anything anymore, though it still received sensory signals. She wasn't the one moving, although her body was moving.
A shift in balance, exactly.
Before, she had had more power than the one lurking in the back of her mind.
When she had asked Snape to check who was spying on them, they had allowed the spy to take control. It would have surely been a matter of time, and in the end, the wizard who had taken away her will would have done the exact same thing anyway.
Her mouth whispered words she was the only one to hear. Realization struck her like lightning.
"Tss, 'can't believe it went down to that. I really, really do hope I won't stay stuck in Bella's body, because that would be hell in all aspects."
Obviously. Sirius wasn't eager to live the rest of his life – yes, yes, more accurately, Bellatrix' life – in the body of a woman who had so many issues. First of all, being a woman when he was a man. Not her fault, really, but that would be freaking terrifying. And people would surely try to hook him up with Remus if he ended up a woman, if only for the fun of the awkwardness of the proposition. Second thing, Bellatrix had – same as him, actually – spent years in Azkaban, and wasn't exactly in good health. Third point, she had a bloody Dark Mark on her forearm and there was no way he'd put up with that. Fourth and not last problem, she was wanted and a murderer. Even if he managed to make people understand he wasn't actually her, he'd still have to deal with what she had done. Fifth headache, she was his cousin, for Circe's sake!
And let's not talk about the fact that he was in her body because he had killed her after she had killed him, or that the Reciprocation Curse was definitely dark magic.
"Bellatrix...?"
Right. Death Eaters everywhere. And a Dark Bastard on the loose in the dining room.
Sirius got on his – her – feet and glanced over the dark wizards in the room. All of them were wary of him. Quite justified, after all. Snivellus, particularly, was looking at him with awe. Sirius wondered what he had seen exactly when their minds had collided.
Was he aware of who he was?
Or had he only stumbled upon the swirl of darkness the curse had created in him?
Sirius took the usual Black-smug-pose. He was confident he was behaving way too much like his cousin, but hell, they weren't cousins for nothing. So many times he had been disgusted by their likeness, when their beliefs were so different, but now he could use it.
"What, never seen a woman in pain before? My filthy cousin might have been a fool unable to see where his true benefits lay, but he was never unable to unflict damage in a duel."
Yup. Let's begin by insulting himself. And the sentence was great, since changing only two words could make it all too much true about Bella instead of him. Apparently their opinions on each other were basically the same.
"Now, Severus, could you lower the wand, so that I can walk away without feeling threatened?"
When Bellatrix Lestrange felt threatened, the one who caused it usually had trouble breathing the next minute. Most of the Death Eaters complied.
But Snape knew better, and as much as it sickened him to admit it, Sirius knew he was right. Two Death Eaters had heard Bella's request to the potion master, and they weren't likely to buy it so easily. If the two of them simply walked away now, it would seem dubious. Snivellus' spying was likely to be hindered and his own chances to get away would go way down.
"Who are you?"
Snape's voice was low and all but friendly. His fellow Death Eaters froze upon hearing it.
"Right. Bella has exposed me quite well, hasn't she?"
Concerned looks of incomprehension were shared amongst the public. Maybe Lestrange had definitely lost it? It wouldn't be surprising, after all those years with the dementors.
Bella's mouth widened in a sly smile that Sirius and her shared.
"Snivellus."
The shock was consequent.
Wholly out-of-it Death Eaters saw Severus Snape's eyes widening, two wands being almost thrown at each other, several spells making holes in the walls of the room. Sirius ducked and rolled on the floor, stood up with a devilish grin at the door, and ran out. Severus swore and went after him.
They were all sure that Snape and Lestrange had simply gone mad.
Like, really, really crazy. Crazy to the point that they'd better go after them before something tragic happened. And they weren't talking about one of them being killed. Snape and Lestrange were dangerous enough to blow up half of the castle if they put their heart into it. An event the Dark Lord would only middly appreciate. And which could result in some more deaths, though accidental this time. Unless the Dark Lord decided to step in. Which was only this unlikely to happen.
And though they didn't know about Bellatrix not being Bellatrix, they were right about the danger Severus and Sirius represented in a duel. Even if they were doing it for show, at the moment.
Sirius Black was as freaking deadly as his cousin. And maybe even more dangerous.
"What the hell does that mean, Black?!"
"I'm trying to get to the floo network and go back home."
Snape misdirected a spell to a wall on purpose. He wasn't going to kill Black, but he had to make it look like he was actually trying to. Now that the other Death Eaters were far enough not to hear, he could ask some questions to try and understand what the hell had happened.
"You know that's not what I'm talking about. You became a bit too much feminin lately."
Sirius / Bellatrix winced as he / she evaded a hex.
"Let's just say that when Bella killed me, I used some family secret to get back at her. Now, I want to say it was her flirting with you, and definitely not me."
Severus looked furious at the mention of before, but said nothing. The mutt was an obnoxious bastard, so a bit of stupidity even in such a situation was to be expected.
Two Death Eaters caught up with them, and Sirius decided it was definitely the moment to take his leave. The door to the main room was only two steps away, reaching it wouldn't be difficult. The only thing was that between the door and the fireplace, there was the Dark Bastard.
He'd have to go quickly if he wanted to survive to Grimmauld Place.
"Well, I guess it's time for me to bid you goodbye."
And he ran for it, leaving behind, once more, bewildered Death Eaters.
The door slammed open, and his and Voldepants' eyes met for a second.
Sirius gave him his most hateful grin.
Cast a random spell at the bastard's face.
Smiled when a red cloud came between them.
Rushed to the fireplace.
Looked behind to see the cloud being swept away.
Grabbed a handful of floo powder.
Blinked at the coming Stunner.
Yelled the address.
The Stunner hit the fireplace, almost blasting it into pieces. But Sirius didn't see that, swirling inside the floo network. He had barely made it out of the damned place.
He instantly recognized the grim kitchen of his home, and wondered when it had become his home again, instead of the way more neutral "house". Stepping into 12, Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black winced at the memories of his childhood. 12, Grimmauld Place, wasn't supposed to feel like home.
He tripped to the large table and sat on a chair. He knew he had to go back to the Ministry, to see if Harry was alright, if everyone was alright. But not right now. For now, he couldn't.
The Reciprocation Curse hadn't yet finished its work.
Pain grew wild. It was everywhere.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sirius thought he had just heard Bella's screaming her lungs out. Then she wasn't here anymore. Had she finally died? Was it over?
Sirius tried to stand up, a bit too nauseous to care that he was still in his cousin's body.
The world started to spin around.
He fell to the ground, screaming as Bella had been screaming, only he did scream out loud when she'd done it in their head. It felt like cold, very cold, so cold hands had grabbed his guts and were bending them in ways they should never be bent. A shiver crept down his spine. His skin seemed so heavy he felt like it was crushing his body – well, Bella's body – to dust.
He looked up when he heard a loud crack. Bloody Kreacher. Of course.
It was all his fault. He was the reason why he was in such a state, because this sorry excuse of a house-elf couldn't even do his duty right and be loyal to his master.
"Mistress Bellatrix?"
He sounded kreacherish, of course, but also genuinely concerned. Sirius winced even more than the pain was already forcing him to, as he thought of how he had never been anything to the house-elf, when all the other children of the House of Black had been. His mother's doing, surely.
Sirius more or less managed to raise his head up, and began vomiting a black, dark, foul liquid.
It lasted at least twenty seconds.
Then Sirius Black felt pulled out. Freezing hooks were piercing his skin, or at least that was what it felt like, and some mysterious force was taking him out of the body he had been borrowing until now. Fear began to crawl in his head. He had no body to go back to. What would happen now?
The last pull was the worst. To be skinned alive was a joke, surely, compared to that.
When Sirius opened his eyes for the first time, he saw a bewildered Kreacher running to "Mistress Bellatrix?!" with a disgusting squeaking in his voice.
"Stop it immediately."
The house-elf stopped dead in his tracks at the order.
"Disappear from my sight. I won't have you running back to Cissy, though. So you stay here, in the house, but where I can't see nor hear you for now. Your punishment will be decided later on."
Kreacher mumbled something, but he was unusually polite all in all, looking at his master with something close to approval. When he disappeared, Sirius made a mental note to remember to investigate the house-elf's behavior. Kreacher would never had gone so mental as to suddenly approve of the blood traitor son of his Mistress. Not unless the filthy-scum-who-had-broken-his-mother's-heart had gone under a radical change of heart including an unwavering faith in blood purity and allegiance to Voldepants. And Sirius was pretty sure he had not decided to become a Death Eater nor to insult any halfblood or muggleborn during the last hours, so this was highly suspicious.
The wizard bent over Bella's body.
"Sorry, cousin dearest, but I'm not sorry at all. You shouldn't have killed me, and that's only one of your sins. You asked for it."
He closed her terrified eyes.
Then Sirius walked to the nearest mirror. He feared what he would see, but it couldn't be worse than being dead, or stuck in Bella's body, could it?
Luckily for him, no one was at Grimmauld Place this night, being busy at the Ministry. If someone had been, he doubted his arrival would have been welcomed. Firstly because he had looked like Bellatrix Lestrange while coming in. Second reason, because of what he saw at the moment.
He looked sick, sure, like he was going to puck his guts out, but he looked healthy at the same time. Sick, but nowhere as damaged as he had been in Azkaban. Nowhere as bad as after his escape from the world's safest wizarding prison. Nowhere as drained as he had looked, even after his slow recovery in this house, even with daily meals and healing potions.
It was... as if he had never been to Azkaban.
Well, he still had the memories, that at least was certain, and he wouldn't have minded losing them alongside the physical damage, but it was something.
So, he looked about to throw up, and nothing more. His body – which was really his to his relief, and not some random body, since you never knew with magic, and you surely didn't know with a dark spell that three persons had succeeded in performing in all of History – was still aching all over. But Sirius knew he was likely to suffer side effects from the Reciprocation Curse.
The bloody thing had been powerful enough to bring his body back to this side of the Veil. Or maybe it had created a new body, similar to the last one. But it was definitely strong and fearsome dark magic. His recovery wasn't going to be nice. He could tell that much.
Watching his image in the mirror attentively, he saw that he had dark circles under his eyes that he had never had before Azkaban, not even after an all-nighter. His temples too seemed a bit hollow, when it had never been before. He worried it was due to the use of the Dark Arts.
Whatever, it wasn't as if he was planning to use dark magic ever again.
Sirius winced at the thought. He had said the same the first time. And the time after that. And...
He walked to the floo, trying not to think about his errors, and looked one last time at Bellatrix.
"Time to go, cousin."
Warnings:
I'm against bashing. Of any kind. Especially because bashing tends to take bits from canon and ignore everything else, while pretending to base it off canon.
I'm not saying there might not be moments where you'll disagree with my interpretation of canon, or that I might not forget some things occasionally, and of course I have opinions about some things, but I try - try, operative word here - to be fair.
Here, the previous bits of summaries:
Summary 1.0: Not being willing to use it does not mean one is not able to use it. As a matter of fact, Sirius knew he was gifted concerning it. It wasn't by chance that his family was called Black. But he had long decided he would never use it again.
That time was supposed to be the only exception.
Summary 2.0: Sirius hadn't survived Bella killing him to kneel before the Dark Bastard. No, Sirius Black was alive and dangerous, clever and ireful, and slightly insane, of course. He was Lord Black, and he would stand in the way of Voldemort as long as someone would need him to.
Summary 3.0: Or, the story in which Sirius survives the Department of Mysteries Battle, is freaking awesome and gets a new chance at life. The one in which a sane Bellatrix is actually a kind of nice Bellatrix. The one in which a lot of people manage to stay alive, and some even weren't dead to begin with. The one in which some muggles are important too, and not complete assholes. The one in which Sirius falls in love with a woman who would almost make his mother happy.
What else? I've reread the whole thing (again), changed a few things (very few) for a more cohesive universe (I have a 47 pages document with notes about the universe's timeline, my OCs and things I've decided to add about canon characters, how various parts of canon work in details + what I extrapolate from canon, so).