Chapter 5: Ache No More

The old man had kept the twin to Harry's wand this entire time. He did not know whether to be amazed, scared, or furious. All of these years, there had been a wand just laying in a shop, connected so closely to his. Merlin knew what that meant; in magic, there was no predicting. One wrong step, and you were incinerated to ash. Thank goodness he got his hands on it before anyone else did.

He needed to find out what exactly happened when two wands with twin cores interacted with each other. The Malfoy Library would be a good place to start. Even a small mention might help solve the mystery.

Harry walked through the front door of Malfoy Manor, and closed it shut behind him slowly. Anyone who looked at him would have thought that he was thinking about something, that he looked hesitant.

And he was. He was hesitant, because of something he'd realized on the way back. Up until now, he'd ignored it, because he had so many other things to do, but now it had built up, and constantly nagged at his mind.

The Malfoys were fine, Barty was fine, but there was a certain follower that was not. Bellatrix was rotting in Azkaban, and for no good reason. How could he leave her there, constantly tormented by dementors? Every second that passed, she suffered more, and he did nothing about it.

The thought kept repeating itself in his head. She didn't deserve it.

He stopped at the top of the stairs. If we went back to his room and retired for the night, he would be giving up on her. He could almost hear her pained voice. But breaking her out now felt rash. This was why you planned things, he told himself, so you didn't feel unsure.

He sighed, and turned towards the left hallway, away from his room.

Narcissa had been looking at the book of family expenses when she heard a knock on the door to her and Lucius's room.

She looked up from the book, surprised. Lucius would have just walked in, and she knew for a fact Draco was in bed…

"Come in," she said.

The door opened, and it was Harry that walked in. She gave a small gasp, and set the book down on the table in front of her.

"My lord? I wasn't expecting you. How can I be of service?"

He walked closer, going to the back of the couch in front of her. He put his hands on it, looking deep in thought.

"Narcissa," he eventually said. "Lately, I find myself thinking about Bella."

She took a moment upon hearing the name. She hadn't thought about her elder sister in a long time.

"Bella, my lord? What about her?"

Harry glanced to the window, far to his left. It was strange to see so much consideration on a little boy's face.

"She does not deserve it," he said, slowly shaking his head. His voice sounded longing, and almost regretful. "She does not deserve to be locked up in there, Narcissa."

Narcissa did not say anything; her body was incredibly still. Yes, she felt sad that her sister was in Azkaban, but she had tortured and killed so many people, and not to mention, she had always been a little unstable. She did not know if she agreed with Harry.

"She is in prison due to her own actions, my lord."

Harry scoffed, and a small, self-deprecating smile flashed on his face. Clearly, he knew something she didn't.

After a while, he turned back to her. He didn't look lost in thought anymore.

"I'm going to retrieve her, Narcissa."

The weight of his words hit her, and she sat up straighter. "M-My lord? Retrieve her?" she stammered, her voice noticeably higher than before.

"Yes."

And then, he started changing. His small, child's hands became black, and the fingers lengthened. Black mist started falling off of his body, and he became taller, and wider, till he was towering over her. His form was shrouded in darkness, and his face was obscured, but from where she sat, she could see the dimly glowing red eyes.

Terror seized Narcissa's body. She was sure if the shock hadn't made her go completely still, she would have screamed.

He did not seem to notice. He took his hands off of the sofa, and turned towards the window.

"I will return soon," he said, his voice sounding nothing like Harry's gentle tone. Instead, it was cold and commanding.

The dark lord went forward, and waved his hand. The window opened, and he disappeared in a mass of black smoke through it.

The window closed behind him. Narcissa watched it, breathing fast with her hand over her heart. Retrieve her. He meant, he was going to break her out. Conflicting emotions battled inside her mind; she felt happy for her sister, but she was likely not going to be any more sane. Would everything be fine? Surely, Harry would be able to control her…

There was nothing she could do but wait. Hopefully, Bellatrix hadn't completely lost her mind. Lucius was going to have a heart attack when he found out.

The hallways were dark, and there seemed to be an air of despair hanging throughout the entire prison. Cell after cell went past, each of them dark and dank, with the occupants inside in various depressed poses. Some were lying on the floor, looking dead. Some sat in the corner, facing the wall with their knees held against their chest.

And then, Voldemort reached the one he was looking for. Inside was a woman, thinner than he remembered, but instantly recognizable due to her mass of black hair and deathly pale skin. She was sitting on the floor, looking down, her head hidden by messy, unkempt hair.

He walked through the bars, his body turning to mist where it met the metal, and then reforming afterwards. Bellatrix still had her face down. Either she had not noticed him, or she was too far gone to care.

For the first time in his life, Voldemort felt something like regret. He had made a mistake. Bella did not deserve this. He went closer, reaching down towards her.

The hands were cold, but unlike anything else in this place, they were full of life. Bellatrix noticed this immediately.

She looked up to see who was holding her. It was… her eyes watered, as she tried to focus. The hazy image slowly unblurred. Then, she saw, and her eyes widened.

She tried to say something, but it had been so long since she'd used her voice that only a whimpering groan came out.

"Bella," he said, his voice just as strong as she remembered. But it was gentle, only for her.

Wet trails ran down her cheeks. Please be real, don't be a trick, she desperately thought.

"Bella," he said again. She only made the noises from her throat in response, needing whimpers.

There was a kind of consideration on his face she had never seen. He almost looked sad. Was… was he sad because of her? No! No, she couldn't make him feel sad. It was her fault, he shouldn't feel sad because of her.

He stroked her hair, pushing a few strands out of her face. "Bella," he said, "can you answer a question for me?"

She nodded, feeling hope. She could do something for him, finally. She could help him like she used to.

"Is Rodolphus alive, Bella?"

Her hope turned to dread. She had only disappointment. That wouldn't help him. The sadness built up, and she felt like crying.

She shook her head, feeling like a failure. No, Rodolphus was not alive. He had died in Azkaban, she couldn't remember when, but she knew he was dead.

In her mind, she saw the image of her lord's face, looking disappointed, thinking of her as useless. And that was exactly what she was, useless.

Instead, he only nodded slowly, like he was just considering her answer without judging her. He wasn't? He was not mad at her?

"Okay. Okay, Bella. And what about Rabastan? Did he suffer the same fate?"

She nodded, this time without the depression threatening to consume her. He was not disappointed in her.

"Hmm. Very well… I understand, Bella. Thank you." His thumb stroked her cheek.

She felt happiness rise up inside her like magma in a volcano. She had helped him, and made herself useful. She leaned closer to him, smiling for the first time in so long. He was still holding her cheek. It felt so good.

Bella looked up at him again, but he seemed to have moved on already, his gaze fixed on the wall as he thought. Then, she realized. It was over. She'd fulfilled the task he'd given her, and he was already thinking about other things. Did that mean he was going to go?

She yelped as the realization came to her. Immediately, she scrambled to get closer to him, putting her hands on his wrists. He was going to leave, leave her. She couldn't take that, not another time. If he was gone, then she wouldn't have anything left.

The tears flowed out of her eyes endlessly. She squeezed his wrists, still unable to talk, but making whining noises, trying to make him understand. Don't leave me, my lord, please don't leave me.

He turned his attention to her nonchalantly, unperplexed by her begging. Her lord only stared blankly. He stared, and stared… and then, he smiled.

Bella's crying stopped instantly, and her body went still. All her grief, and all her fears were wiped out of her mind, like they'd never even been there. It was perfect. His smile was so perfect… in that moment, she felt that there was nothing wrong in the world. As long as he smiled at her, nothing could ever be bad.

He came down, his head coming closer to hers. Anyone else would have been terrified of the skull-like face, with eyes that faintly glowed red. But she was not. Bella felt only joy. Overwhelming joy.

He gently pushed her back, putting one hand flat on her back, and the other one under her knees. Her lord was kneeling, she realized. She'd never seen him kneel. He stood up, and when he did, he took her with him.

Bella gasped, her mind momentarily overloaded. He had picked her up. Her head was resting against his shoulder, and his arm was wrapped around her, holding her close. He was carrying her. Her lord was carrying her.

"Let us leave this place, Bella," he said, and she knew. Her time in Azkaban was done. Her lord was not dead, he'd come back. And she was going to be with him again.

She let out a happy squeal, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling as close as she could against him. Every negative feeling and thought was thrown out of her mind, forgotten. The only thing that remained was a sweet ecstasy. This was the happiest moment of her life.

Narcissa paced back and forth. She hadn't left her room after the dark lord departed, not even to tell Lucius what happened. She knew her husband would come to the room soon enough, and it was not like telling him would change anything.

When he had entered the room, she told him about what Harry left to do. Lucius had simply whispered "Oh dear" and sat down on the couch, his hands clasped under his chin.

They waited in silence, both feeling uncertain about what Bellatrix returning meant. Yes, she was family, but she was also very unhinged. Who knew how Azkaban had affected her?

Suddenly, she felt a burning on her left forearm. At first, she didn't realize what it was, and then it caught up with her.

She spun around, and saw that Lucius was also sitting up, holding his left elbow. It seemed his dark mark was burning as well, meaning the dark lord had summoned both of them. They felt their instincts telling them where to go. It was somewhere in the house.

-o0o-

When she entered the guest room, far away in the guest wing of the mansion, Narcissa felt her stomach turn to ice as she saw the dark lord again. He was sitting on a chair next to the bed with his legs crossed, and his hand holding his chin in a pondering way.

"Lucius, Narcissa," he said as soon as they entered, without even looking at them.

She took a hesitant step forward. "My lord, did you find Bella?"

He nodded towards the bed. Narcissa looked at where he'd gestured to.

There was a thin figure lying there, with deathly pale skin. Her hair was a tangled mess; if it wasn't for her chest slowly rising up and down, she might have thought it was a dead body.

"Bella?" she whispered unbelievingly. Immediately, a sense of worry for her sister flared inside her, and she jerked forwards, but stopped herself as she remembered who was sitting next to her.

The dark lord saw her movement, and he stood up from the chair. He walked back, towards where Lucius was standing, giving her space to go to her sister's side. Narcissa ran over.

She leaned down, and grabbed her hands. They felt limp and lifeless.

"Bella? Bella, are you okay?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"Ah… Cis… sy…"

She opened her eyes somewhat, and gave a small smile. Her face looked gaunt and skeletal, a far cry from what Narcissa remembered her sister looking like.

"Cis… sy…" she whispered again, and squeezed her hands a little.

"Bella. Bella. Oh, Merlin..."

Narcissa's vision blurred as tears came. She didn't deserve this. Harry had been completely right. Bella didn't deserve this. She went closer, putting her head near hers, and pulled her sister's hands towards her chest. She had been suffering in Azkaban for over a decade, while Narcissa sat at home, blissfully ignorant. What kind of family was she?

"B-Bella," she repeated. Her sister smiled again, and closed her eyes, going back to her rest.

Lucius watched the scene with sadness on his face. He'd expected Bellatrix to be a dangerous, raving lunatic, but instead, he only saw a woman who had been through too much.

"She will need time to recover," the dark lord said, standing at his side. Even he sounded softer than normal.

Lucius slowly nodded. Despite her less-than-sane tendencies, Bellatrix was family. He was still a little worried about her, but the desire to see her become healthy again was greater.

"My lord?" he asked as another thought came to mind. "What of Rodolphus? And Rabastan?"

"Dead. Both of them," the dark lord replied casually, as if he were describing the weather. So that hadn't changed about him; his care for Bellatrix did not extend to the other Lestranges.

"Ah, unfortunate."

To be honest, Lucius couldn't really care about the Lestrange brothers either. They had always been annoying, ever since he'd first met them in Hogwarts. He was glad he would never have to bother with either of them again.

They both reminisced as they watched the sisters' reunion. It was the dark lord who eventually broke the silence.

Lucius heard a sound like wind blowing to his left, and he looked over. Like he'd once seen in his office, the dark lord was changing, black smoke rising around him as he became thinner and shorter. The darkness around him faded, like droplets of water being dried away, and suddenly there was a boy with black hair and green eyes standing next to him.

"I will go now, Lucius. It has been a long day," Harry said, the cold tone of the dark lord long gone, replaced by a child's voice.

"Yes, my lord."

Harry had just been towering a foot above him, but now he barely came to his waist. It was such a strange thing; he knew in his mind the dark lord and Harry were the same, but seeing the two wildly different appearances made it difficult to believe.

"You will make sure that Bella recovers."

"Of course, my lord. I don't think Narcissa will let me live if I don't."

Harry scoffed. "And neither will I," he said. He turned around, his hands clasped behind his back, and walked out of the room.

Lucius watched him go with raised eyebrows. Again, he'd forgotten who Harry really was. He looked back to Narcissa; she was still kneeling next to the bed, holding Bellatrix's hands. He walked to her side, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Narcissa."

She was still for a second, but then put her head up, staring blankly ahead, not looking at him.

He stroked her shoulder affectionately. "I am going to head back, my dear," he said softly.

She nodded, and put her head back down towards Bella. He squeezed her shoulder again, and then let go. He turned, and left the room as well.

Iris was sleeping in a fallen position on the bed, like she had been trying to keep herself awake, but gave in to the tiredness in the end. Harry knew why. She had been waiting for him. He felt a little guilty to keep her for so long, but at least he was here now.

He climbed under the blanket and laid down next to her. She shuffled a little, but then settled onto her side, sleeping peacefully. Despite himself, he smiled as he gently stroked her hair. She looked adorable.

His mind was clear, now. The nagging was gone. Bella was safe, and back where she should be. Now more than ever, he could focus on future, and his plans for it.