Chereads / Echoes of Destiny: Harry and Bellatrix's Second Chance / Chapter 33 - Chapter 33: Bellatrix Lets Out Her Inner Slytherin

Chapter 33 - Chapter 33: Bellatrix Lets Out Her Inner Slytherin

"I hate this class," Leo told Rose, putting all the emphasis he could into a whisper, as he gazed into a professional grade, academically priced crystal ball.

"It'll be the easiest NEWT we ever got," Rose told him reassuringly as she waved her wand in a circle underneath their classroom table, using the wand to cast a spell on the crystal ball so that its insides would be good and cloudy by the time she got around to making a prediction for Professor Trelawney's amusement.

"I don't have a problem with the subject or the easy NEWT," Leo replied quietly as he eyed Ron and Sidra who were seated across the room. "But, couldn't we have taken this class with all the other students our age?"

Rose shrugged. "I thought you really liked the idea of skipping a year worth of Divination and still getting the NEWT for it."

"We should have skipped this year," Leo groused. "Ron and Sidra would have graduated. Then, you could have your little 'vision' about how we needed to take the final NEWT level of divination immediately."

"Trust me, it is better this way," Rose said, casting a calculated smirk toward Ron and Sidra who had been in the process of glaring at Rose and Leo. "If we had waited a year, selling the vision to Trelawney would have been a little bit more difficult. Even she would have been able to see our true motivations."

"Ginny refused to buy into this scheme. Maybe I should have followed suit," Leo grumbled, rubbing the crystal ball and pretending to peer into its depths.

"Yeah, well, Ginny is a wet blanket sometimes, isn't she?" Rose retorted as she sat up and grabbed the crystal ball. "I think you're done with the crystal ball. Let me have a vision and maybe I can convince Trelawney that it is imperative for us to get out of here-immediately."

By now, the fog in the crystal ball was swirling enough that even some of the students at neighboring tables had noticed and were eyeing Rose and Leo out of the corners of their eyes. Rose straightened her back and stuck her arms out horizontally over the crystal ball, having pocketed her wand. Just before she could loudly announce that she was having a vision, Lavender Brown started screeching.

"I've got something, I've got something!" Lavender exclaimed, clapping her hands and bringing her face right up to the crystal ball that was resting on her table.

Rose dropped her arms, a disgusted expression on her face. "Unbelievable," she muttered.

The whole class was gathering around Lavender's table to see what she was seeing-or at least hear about it. Reluctantly, Rose and Leo joined the throng. From what Leo could see, the fog in Lavender's ball might be genuine. Trelawney seemed to think so as well, for she had taken a seat at Lavender's table and was excitedly gripping the crystal ball as Lavender looked into its depths.

"This is a genuine manifestation!" Trelawney declared, doing her best to sound very experienced in these matters, though it was pretty clear that she was just as excited and curious as her students.

"Nonsense," Rose said a little bit too loudly.

Everyone in the class paused and looked at Rose.

"Shut up," Sidra snarled at Rose. "For once, refrain from trying to be the center of attention."

Rose glared at Sidra, but instead of retorting, she pushed through the crowd and grabbed the crystal ball, wrenching it out of Lavender and Professor Trelawney's hands. "Let's see what is in this seemingly authentic vision," Rose said sarcastically. She held the ball close to her face and gazed into it. Leo grinned nervously as he watched Rose and anticipated her next caustic comment. However, it did not come.

After several moments, Rose broke her concentration on the crystal ball. "Fascinating," she murmured.

"What? What did you see?" Trelawney asked excitedly, her belief that Rose was a true seer overriding any sense of being offended. Lavender looked on sullenly.

"Uh, in the storm clouds of fate, I saw us going to lunch immediately," Rose said lamely. Abruptly, she then threw the crystal ball down onto the floor where it shattered, causing the fog within to dissipate instantly as it escaped its glass prison.

"Let's go," she said to Leo quietly. "We have things to do."

Leo grabbed his and Rose's book bags and followed her out of the classroom while Sidra loudly consoled Lavender, telling the sullen would-be seer that Rose Potter was nothing more than a spoiled, selfish drama queen who would one day get her comeuppance.

"What did you see?" Leo asked as he and Rose descended the ladder that was the entrance and exit to the divination classroom.

"Pettigrew," Rose said.

"What about Pettigrew?" Leo asked as he followed Rose through the castle.

"Voldemort didn't send him to Hogwarts to open the Chamber of Secrets," Rose told Leo. "He sent Pettigrew here to find and retrieve one of the objects for which Bellatrix now searches."

"Did you see the actual object?" Leo asked.

"Sort of," Rose said. "It was in a very unique room in the castle. It should not take us more than a few hours to find it.

Smoothing back his hair, the salesperson cleared his throat as he appreciatively eyed Bellatrix's curves from the side while she examined the newest and most expensive 7-Series BMW the dealership had on the lot. "May I take you on a test drive, ma'am?"

"That would be wonderful, thank you," Bellatrix declared, breaking her gaze away from the black beauty that would probably be her car before the end of the day. She opened the passenger door, dropped in the seat, and pulled the door shut.

The salesperson stared in consternation, finally walking over to the driver's side, opening the door, and peering into the automobile. "Err, ma'am, it is customary for the prospective buyer to perform the test drive."

"I am right here," Bellatrix said, looking at him with wide, violet eyes.

"Well, I meant that you are supposed to drive the car yourself, you know, to see if you like it or not," the salesperson said, though his fingers were now fidgeting with keys as if he was perfectly prepared to drive the car instead of hand them over to the customer.

"No, no," Bellatrix said. "You are supposed to show me how it works. I will watch. That way, I will know how to drive it home."

"Okay… ," said the salesperson, taking the driver seat and pulling the door shut as he slipped the key into the ignition. "You do know how to drive car don't you, ma'am?"

"Oh, of course," Bellatrix said, waving her hand dismissively as she intently watched the salesperson twist the key in the ignition and shift the automatic transmission into drive.

The salesperson pulled the car out of the lot, and they were soon driving through a residential neighborhood. "As you can see ma'am, this car has superb handling and braking," the salesperson said. "Even in stop and go traffic, everything is quite smooth."

"And what does this button do?" Bellatrix said, pointing to the console.

"That's the rear defogger," the salesperson informed her.

Bellatrix pushed the button and looked back. "Nothing is happening."

"There has to be fog or frost on the rear window, first," the salesperson explained.

"Is this feature optional? I do not think I need it," Bellatrix said.

"You'll need it in the winter," the salesperson protested, beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that this girl knew nothing about automobiles.

"Actually, I am planning to get an acquaintance of mine to do some alterations so that I will not require such things. Why would I need something to get the frost off if I do not let the frost on in the first place?"

"A mechanic is going to do something to prevent frost from getting on your windows?" the salesperson asked, confused.

"Yes, I think so," Bellatrix said. "If he cannot do it, I reckon that it will not be much trouble for me to do it myself."

"In any event, this feature comes with every car we sell," the salesperson said, deciding to go ahead and overlook her strange idea about frost prevention.

"Oh, well I guess I can take it anyway," Bellatrix said. "I mean, it would look strange to ah… normal people if I did not have a rear defogger in my car, right?"

"Yes, very strange," the salesperson said.

They drove in silence for several minutes as Bellatrix watched the salesperson and studied the car's controls. The salesperson eyed Bellatrix from the corner of his eye. She almost looked normal. The nearly knee-high black boots were not unheard of on women, though they looked a lot more… leathery than any boots he had ever seen. The knee-length black skirt was also normal, but her black jacket was embroidered with very distinctive and sparkling emerald and silver materials. Probably some sort of fashionista, he concluded.

"Stop the car," Bellatrix commanded.

"Huh?" the salesperson asked, slowing the car down.

"I think I know how to drive now. Stop the car, and I'll take us the rest of the way."

The salesperson brought the car to a complete stop in the middle of the street, and he and Bellatrix switched seats. Bellatrix got behind the wheel, shifted the car into gear, and sped off.

"You need to slow down," the salesperson warned Bellatrix. "There is a speed limit-especially on these residential streets where children play."

"I suppose you are right," Bellatrix said as she slammed on the brakes in order to navigate a sharp corner and merge onto a main drag. "I do not think we shall run into many people here."

"Still too fast," the salesperson squeaked as Bellatrix slammed down the gas pedal and got back up to speed.

"We are not moving all that fast," Bellatrix protested as the needle pushed 100 km/h.

"For this street we are," the salesperson declared as Bellatrix eased on the brakes as they approached a bend in the road. His relief ended as Bellatrix accelerated back to over 100 immediately after passing the curve.

"This driving thing is not as bad as I imagined," Bellatrix told the salesperson.

Abruptly, a the two-tone sound of a police siren washed over them just as flashing blue lights drew Bellatrix's attention to the rearview mirror.

"What does he want?" Bellatrix asked.

"You just got pulled over for speeding," the salesperson sighed resignedly. "Park the car on the side of the road so he can talk to you."

Bellatrix pulled over and stopped the car. "You Muggles and your stupid speed laws," she said bitterly as she opened the door, stepped out of the car, and drew her wand. "You wait here," she told the salesperson as she prepared to slam the BMW's door shut. "This will only take a moment, and then we shall be on our way."

A frown on his face, Harry suspiciously surveyed his surroundings as he emerged from a stand of trees in the park near to Privet Drive. He had not believed his ears when Kreacher had told him that Bellatrix wanted to meet him at #2 Privet Drive, but how else would the elf had known of Privet Drive? Harry walked onto the street of his youth, watching as the local children trickled from their houses and made their way toward school.

Harry strolled over to #2 Privet Drive and, after eyeing the BMW parked in the driveway, walked up toward the front door. Before he could knock, the door swung open to reveal Bellatrix. "Welcome to our humble prison facility," Bellatrix proclaimed, a smug grin on her face. "Did you have trouble finding it?"

"Of course not," Harry muttered, wanting to ask Bellatrix what she had been thinking, but mostly glad to see her after spending a few weeks in Albania. She hugged him and he responded with a kiss.

They separated, closed the door, and found themselves standing in the hallway of a house remarkably like the house in which Harry had grown up. Though there seemed to be some furniture, overall, the house seemed quite sparse and barely lived in.

Seeing that Harry was examining the furnishings, Bellatrix spoke up reassuringly. "We still live in our flat," she told Harry. "This is just a place specially designed to hold Pettigrew and anyone else we capture, all while preventing them from knowing where we actually live."

"Probably a good idea," Harry admitted.

"Of course it is," Bellatrix declared. "You have Pettigrew?" At Harry's nod, she continued. "Let me show you where he will be living out the remainder of his days."

They went down to the basement, and Bellatrix showed Harry a room with ceramic tiles on the floor, walls, ceiling, and even the back of the door. "This will hold just about anybody indefinitely," Bellatrix told Harry, drawing her wand and blasting the walls with various spells. "As you can see, no amount of magic can break through the boundaries of the cell."

"What about blunt, physical force?" Harry asked.

"Watch this," Bellatrix said, leading Harry out of the room. From a pile of supplies that was lying on the bare floor, she withdrew a stick of dynamite. Lighting the fuse with her wand, she tossed the stick into the room and shut the door. After the big bang, she opened the room to reveal that while the explosion had made quite a mess, it had caused no damage whatsoever to the walls, floor, and ceiling of the room.

"Quite remarkable," Harry declared, withdrawing his trunk from the pocket of his robes. He drew his wand, and after placing the shrunk trunk on the floor, enlarged it, opened it, and retrieved a glass bottle in which a panicked rat sat frozen, eying Harry and Bellatrix.

"He never impressed me very much," Bellatrix told Harry, taking the jar from his hands. "Yet, here he is, an animagus."

"He had help," Harry reminded Bellatrix, not sure whether he had told her everything he knew about the Marauders.

"I suppose so," Bellatrix murmured, walking with the jar back into the basement prison cell.

"Shouldn't we clean this up a bit, first?" Harry asked, gesturing to the walls of the cell that the stick of dynamite had partially blackened.

"This is a dungeon, Harry," Bellatrix said as she cracked open the lid and stunned the rat. She opened it completely and unceremoniously dumped the rat onto the tile floor. "It would not do to have it sparkling clean."

Harry looked around and grimaced, almost feeling sorry for Pettigrew.

Bellatrix pointed her wand at the rat, casting the spell to force Pettigrew out of his animagus form. Harry had only a second to look at Pettigrew before Bellatrix had cast another spell to wake him up. Disoriented, Pettigrew sat up.

"Welcome to our dungeon," Bellatrix said primly.

"B-B-Bellatrix Black," Pettigrew stuttered, looking up at his captors. "And Professor Ashworth."

"The same," Harry said.

"But you're dead," Pettigrew responded. "Dead."

Harry and Bellatrix shrugged, not seeing anything to respond to in that comment.

"What do you want with me? I haven't done anything to you. Please, just let me go." Pettigrew begged. "You will never see me again. I swear."

"I wish it were that simple," Harry said, gazing upon Pettigrew with pity. "Even if we did not need you, I do not think I could in good conscience let you roam free."

"What is it you want then?" Pettigrew demanded.

"We will let you know soon," Bellatrix said, cutting off the conversation before Pettigrew could draw on Harry's emotions any further. She poked Harry. "Let's go."

They stepped out of the cell, and Bellatrix secured the door with both physical locks and complex locking spells. "Is Draco in your trunk as well?" she asked.

"He is," Harry declared, a little bit of a smirk suddenly developing on his face. He retrieved from his trunk the bottle in which a terrified ferret was imprisoned.

"Is Draco an animagus also?" Bellatrix asked, sounding confused as she accepted the bottle from Harry.

"No," Harry smirked.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes as she looked at Harry. "Human transfiguration is extremely dangerous."

Harry shrugged defensively. "I was careful. Besides, he would be no great loss to us."

"He happens to be my nephew," Bellatrix said.

"He's a Malfoy," Harry retorted.

"He is my key to getting leverage over my sister. Though with regard to him being a Malfoy, I suppose you are right," Bellatrix said. "But, I will make him a Black yet."

"That's tons better," Harry said with a small bit of sarcasm present in his voice.

"It is, Mr. Black." Bellatrix told Harry evenly. "I will show you where we will be keeping Draco. You can transfigure him back before you go home."

"Go home?" Harry asked, slightly confused.

"Clearly, you are exhausted," Bellatrix said, leading the way up the stairs. "Unfortunately, you only have the rest of the day to sleep. You will have some errands to run this evening."

"Why can't you take care of them?" Harry asked as they reached the main floor and headed up the staircase to the second level.

"Draco and Pettigrew will be keeping me occupied for the next while," Bellatrix replied.

Draco gasped as he felt an enervate spell wash over him. He tensed his muscles as soon as he realized that he was no longer an animal nor in a glass jar. He looked up to find a black-haired beauty standing over the bed on which he was lying, peering down at him with wide and intense violet eyes.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Who do I look like?" the young woman asked, smirking vaguely.

"How should I know?" Draco shot back.

"A fair question," she admitted, smiling in a slightly predatory way. "I am your aunt."

"Aunt Andromeda?" Draco asked, eyeing her closely.

"Surely you can do better than that, dimwit." Bellatrix encouraged. "Andy does not look anything like me."

"Aunt Bellatrix?" Draco asked slowly, clearly in disbelief as he tried to remember whether he had ever seen a photograph or heard a physical description of his other aunt.

"Correct," Bellatrix said.

"But you're dead!" Draco exclaimed, pushing himself up and backing away from her until his back hit the bed's headboard. He looked around the room and was surprised to find that the bed was the only piece of furniture in a bare room.

"Dead?" Bellatrix asked. "Or missing?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Did your mother tell you that I was dead or that I was missing?" Bellatrix clarified.

"She said you were dead," Draco said, taking stock of her features and determining that she met the physical description of his Aunt Bellatrix save only for her apparent youth.

"You are positive she said I was dead?"

"Yes, my mother always said you were dead." Draco reiterated.

"Now, did she say I was dead or killed?" Bellatrix inquired, now looking extremely curious.

"What does it matter?" Draco demanded.

Bellatrix paused for a moment, arching her eyebrow as she apparently took some time to compose the answer. "To you, it matters little. But for me, I happen to be curious. Now tell me, was I described as dead or killed?"

"She might have said you had been killed, but I cannot remember," Draco said.

"Please try to be more exact."

"She alternated between saying that you were dead or killed. I think she just assumed that you were killed." Draco said, trying to elaborate on his answer.

"Fascinating," Bellatrix declared. "Well, with that behind us, let me explain some basics to you. Your dear, sweet mother has made it worth my while to look after you for a while."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that she got sick of you being involved in the war. For you, the war is now over. Until it ends for everyone else, you shall be living in this house and restrained to remaining in the general vicinity of the neighborhood."

"You cannot keep me here," Draco declared.

"Oh, I can," Bellatrix reassured him. "If you are particularly daring, you will soon discover that whenever you travel a certain distance away from this house, you begin to feel sick. The further you travel, the sicker you become. At a certain point, you will no longer be able to maintain consciousness because the pain will be so bad."

"And if I floo or apparate away from here?" Draco asked.

"Instant death," Bellatrix replied. "If I were you, I would resist any and all attempts that anybody might make to take you away from here. As well-intentioned as they might be, you will die if you leave the boundaries I have set around this house for you."

"What if I accidentally go too far?" Draco inquired, now trying to understand the extent of his imprisonment.

"If you are walking, you will lose consciousness before you pass the point where death occurs. However, keep in mind that a well-meaning Muggle might take you to a hospital outside of the allowed radius." Bellatrix said, smiling and tilting her head a bit. "Then you would die en route to the hospital."

"My father will have your hide for this," Draco declared.

"You father is dead," Bellatrix informed him rather bluntly. "The wizard you and your father were hunting in Albania ambushed you. Luckily, the fellow I hired to find you was there and saved your life."

"Then my master will hunt you down," Draco declared boldly.

Bellatrix reached out and grabbed Draco's arm, twisting it so she could see the inside of his wrist. "It would appear that you have not quite yet been branded as the dark lord's own. Did not quite make it to the rank of Death Eater, did you?"

"I would have made it after coming back from Albania," Draco snarled. "You screwed that up for me."

"Pity," Bellatrix said, smiling thinly.

"So, basically, I am in Azkaban. Is that what this is?" Draco demanded, angry, but also a little bit scared, now.

"Not quite Azkaban," Bellatrix told him. "Your mother can visit you, and you will certainly not be confined to this room."

"Oh, and what am I supposed to do outside of this room? Frolic with the Muggles?"

Bellatrix let out a laugh that devolved into a giggle that made Draco very nervous. "The Muggles will be frolicking, I assure you," she said. "But, you will be otherwise occupied. Get out of bed," she directed, motioning with her head. "We have places to be."

Draco watched as his long lost aunt turned her back and made her way out of the room. "Also keep in mind," she called, "that if anything bad happens to me, there will not be anyone to deactivate the magic that keeps you imprisoned in this general area."

Still rather shaken, but curious enough to find out more, Draco climbed out of the bed and discovered that he was wearing Muggle clothes. Idly, he wondered if she had stripped him and dressed him. Finding a pair of shoes on the floor near his bed, he put them on and then stood to follow Bellatrix. He found her down the stairs and near what appeared to be the front door of the house in which they were located.

"Come along," Bellatrix said as she raised her wand and began casting glamour charms on herself.

Confused, Draco watched as she transformed herself into a middle-aged woman and lightened her hair. As disappointment rose in his mind, Draco realized that he had been rather attracted to her original looks. "So, ah, is this what you really look like?" he asked.

"No, this is my disguise," Bellatrix told him as she opened the front door and led him out.

They walked down to the end of the drive, over one house, and up to the door of #4 Privet Drive. Apprehensively, Draco watched as Bellatrix pasted a false smile on her face and rapped smartly on the door of #4.

After several minutes, a rather surly looking man answered the front door, though he quickly placed a genial smile on his face as soon as he saw who his visitor was. "Mrs. White, how are you?" he inquired.

"I am very well, indeed," Bellatrix told the man as Draco looked on in consternation. Bellatrix motioned toward Draco. "This is my nephew. Remember? The one that was just released from the juvenile center. Davey, this is Mr. Vernon Dursley."

Draco stared stupidly at Bellatrix and Mr. Dursley for a moment before realizing that his aunt had renamed him Davey.

"He has always been a little slow," Bellatrix told Mr. Dursley as the large and beefy man shared a sympathetic glance with her. "My husband and I have tried to help his parents, but there does not seem to be much hope for anybody."

"Very unfortunate," Mr. Dursley said to Bellatrix before looking Draco in the eye. "Davey," he said, "do you know how to operate a lawn mower?"

"No," Draco replied, feeling very confused.

"I am sure it will not take much time to teach him," Bellatrix assured Mr. Dursley. "If you would be so kind as to teach him the basics, I am sure he would be glad to mow your lawn free of charge for the next four weeks."

"Sounds like a bargain to me," Mr. Dursley said.

"I'm not sure this is worth skipping dinner for," Leo grumbled.

"The only options were the dead of the night and dinnertime," Rose told him. "Bellatrix chose dinnertime."

"Easy for her," Leo retorted good naturedly as he and Rose rushed to Gryffindor Tower. "She can have Kreacher serve her dinner any time she wants."

"I am not entirely convinced that Kreacher serving dinner makes anybody's life easier," Rose said as she and Leo entered the Gryffindor common room and walked toward the fire. "What time is it?"

"I think we only have a couple minutes," Leo told her.

"Great," Rose said. "Why don't you run up and check to make sure nobody is in the boys' dormitories, and I'll check the girls'.

After a few minutes, the pair concluded that they were alone in Gryffindor Tower. Satisfied, they set some small wards to alert them if anybody approached the common room and then sat down on the couch in front of the fire, waiting for Bellatrix to floo call them.

The appointed time came and went without Bellatrix appearing in the fireplace. "Where is she?" Rose wondered, frowning.

"She is otherwise occupied," came a voice from an armchair to their right.

Startled, the two teens leaped to their feet and stared at the armchair, surprised to see Harry Ashworth, or rather, Harry Black, smiling at them over steepled hands.

"Sorry," Harry said. "I couldn't resist the temptation."

"Merlin!" Leo exclaimed. "Are you actually here or are you using that spell?"

"The spell, of course," Harry said.

"But you don't appear ghost-like," Leo said.

"The spell is quite flexible," Harry said, raising his hand and causing it to become transparent for a moment.

"Maybe you could teach it to me sometime," Leo said enviously.

"Maybe I will," Harry said. "But for now, perhaps you could tell me what you've discovered."

"Of course," Leo said, glancing at Rose who was in the process of studying Harry intently. "Rose?"

Rose cleared her throat. "Professor Ashworth-Black-," she began.

"Please, just call me Harry," Harry directed, interrupting her as politely as he could.

"Very well, Harry," Rose conceded. "We believe that one of Voldemort's magical objects is inside of Hogwarts."

"Of course," Harry said slowly. "He always viewed Hogwarts as his home. It is only logical that he would hide one here. After all, the castle's defenses are formidable."

"Bellatrix didn't seem to think we would find one in the castle," Leo pointed out and impliedly asking for an explanation as to the differing opinions.

"Bellatrix does not know Mr. Riddle as well as I do," Harry said, brushing Leo's confusion aside. "Where is this magical object?"

"We are not entirely sure," Rose confessed.

Detecting a slightly annoyed expression on Harry's face, Leo piped in. "But we do know that it is hidden inside a room full of lots of junk."

"Junk?" Harry asked.

"Yes, junk," Rose said. "Furniture, books, sculptures, that sort of thing. There are acres and acres of piles and piles of this junk all inside of a room in Hogwarts."

"But we can't find the room," Leo cut in. "We've spent days searching for it. We're beginning to wonder if the room actually is in the castle, but we are very sure that an object belonging to Voldemort is in that room, wherever it is."

"How did you discover the location of this object without seeing the room in person?" Harry asked, sounding a little bit confused.

"That is something you do not need to know," Rose said coolly, apparently not willing to inform Harry about her seer abilities.

Harry leveled his gaze at her, focusing the green orbs that were his eyes on Rose's own eyes. "Very well," Harry said. "I thank you for your efforts. I would appreciate it if you would continue to gather any information you can regarding Mr. Riddle."

"Wait," Leo said, "we're not done yet, are we? Do you know where this room is?"

"I do know where the room is located," Harry admitted.

"Is it in Hogwarts?" Leo asked.

"Yes," Harry said, turning his head to watch the flames in the fireplace. It seemed he was prepared to reward reticence for reticence.

"Harry," Rose said, "it would appear that you fail to realize that we are your best option to retrieve this object. Obviously, you cannot enter Hogwarts, but we are already here. You should tell us where this room is."

Harry continued to look into flames. Eventually, he smiled. "I think you underestimate my abilities, Miss Potter. Besides, even if I could trust you to give me the object rather than handing it over to Professor Dumbledore, I fear that Mr. Riddle will have placed unique defenses around the magical object in question. In that room, his options are, I think, endless. Though, I will concede that there is a small chance that Mr. Riddle never realized the sheer power that the room seems to possess."

It took Rose a few moments to muster a reply. "Is not handing over the object to Professor Dumbledore the best option? If you truly are fighting Voldemort, you should be more willing to contribute to the cause."

Harry looked again at Rose, focusing his emerald eyes on her. "Miss Potter, I have contributed more to the cause than you can possibly know.

"Then what is a little bit more?" Rose said boldly.

"I was not implying that I do not wish to contribute more to the cause," Harry said evenly. "I was implying that at this moment, it is I who is best situated to decide what ought to be done to effectively combat V… Mr. Riddle. When I am ready, I shall personally access the room you have seen and retrieve Mr. Riddle's magical object. And then, at an appropriate moment, I will involve Professor Dumbledore in my plans."

"Right," Leo said, jumping in and trying to douse any further sparks between Harry and Rose. "In the meantime, we'll continue to research Voldemort and let you know if we find anything important."

"Excellent," Harry said, smiling at Leo. He then, without any further comment, faded away.

Rose and Leo stared at the empty chair for several moments.

"I really want to learn that spell," Leo said.

"I really want to learn more about Harry Ashworth-Black," Rose said quietly. "In case you did not notice, he just told us that he thinks he knows better than Dumbledore."

Leo grinned at Rose teasingly. "Or was he really saying that he knows better than you ?"

"There is nothing he knows that I cannot know, and endless things I can know that he cannot," Rose said sulkily.

"If you could really see that far, you would be able to find the room in question," Leo pointed out gently. "And then, we must remember that knowledge is not necessarily wisdom."

"Are you saying that Harry Ashworth has more wisdom than I do?" Rose demanded, beginning to sound quite angry.

Leo held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "I am merely saying that we should not be so quick to discount the wisdom behind Harry's decisions. If you haven't noticed, the Death Eaters have been running scared these past months. And don't forget that he and Bellatrix whisked your mother out from under Voldemort's nose almost effortlessly. What he does may very well end this war once and for all."

"I suppose you're right," Rose said, still sounding rather unhappy. "I guess I just wish that I could play a more pivotal role in all this as well."

"Let's satisfy ourselves with researching Voldemort," Leo encouraged. "If we're in Harry's good graces come summer holidays, we may get a chance to help terrorize Death Eaters."

"Yeah, and how are we going to do that while we're under the watchful eyes of our parents?" Rose asked.

"I think you underestimate his abilities," Leo said, a slightly mocking smile on his face.

Harry released the image projection spell and found himself back in his body, looking at the trees in the Forbidden Forest. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, signaling to Harry that he had little time if he was to make it to his next stop in time. Glancing around to ensure that he was alone, Harry withdrew a flask from his robes. He uncapped it, and, wrinkling his nose at the awful smell of Polyjuice, downed a few gulps.

The transformation was as unpleasant as he remembered, but the effect was perfect. Looking into a mirror that he had just conjured, Harry determined that he looked precisely like his wife, Bellatrix. Harry then grabbed the small satchel he had brought along and changed into the set of clothes Bellatrix had provided him. Grimacing as he pulled on a pair of her boots and tried to balance on the heels, Harry wondered if she had designed this all to torment him.

Once he was dressed, he used one of his Wandel wands to place an illusion spell on his phoenix feather wand so that it would resemble Bellatrix's own wand. Harry then determined that he was officially ready to impersonate Bellatrix. Hoping that Bellatrix had correctly modified the wards around the Burrow, Harry disapparated.

He appeared just down the drive from the Burrow's main entrance. Still trying to master the use of Bellatrix's boots, Harry picked his way up the drive as he mentally attempted to condition himself to act like Bellatrix. Snide remarks, Harry told himself silently, snide remarks. He reached the front door of the Burrow and let himself in. At least one person in the room is a dimwit.

"Bellatrix!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "We were so worried when you didn't arrive after your normal time."

Harry's instinct was to apologize, but he well knew that Bellatrix would not be likely to do so, at least, not to Mrs. Weasley. He tried to think of a snide remark, but had to settle for something in between. "I guess you have a new normal time," Harry said glibly, turning toward the stairs. He hoped that he would be able to shut himself up in Ginny's room and depart before breakfast without any further interaction with the Weasley family. It would not do to make a mistake and be identified.

"Normally, we wouldn't take note of the time of your arrival," Mrs. Weasley admitted hurriedly, seemingly nervous that she might have offended Bellatrix. "It's just that the Order is holding a meeting in a few minutes, and Professor Dumbledore hoped that you might accept an invitation to attend."

Harry froze near the staircase as he considered whether he wanted to get Bellatrix inducted into the Order. She would not like it, but it would be a good way to get information. Once again, Harry made a compromise. "I wouldn't mind coming tonight," he said slowly, "but I don't want to make you feel like I will come all the time."

"That's fine," Mrs. Weasley said, rushing to reassure the person she thought was Bellatrix. "As soon as Arthur gets down here, we can leave, unless you need a couple of minutes."

"No, no, I can leave when you're ready," Harry said.

Suspiciously, Lily eyed Bellatrix as the younger woman, who still claimed to be older than Lily, took a swig from a flask. Bellatrix had surprised everyone by assenting to attend the Order meeting and had been astoundingly cooperative since arriving… even after Professor Dumbledore had carved time out of the meeting to solicit a monetary donation from Bellatrix's coffers to help aid the Order's efforts to rehabilitate and care for the Death Eater's victims.

Putting away her flask, Bellatrix answered a query posed by Professor Dumbledore. "I think fifteen thousand galleons should be more than sufficient for the time being. I am willing to be liberal with my money. But, I also want to be prudent."

"I assure you, Mrs. Black," Dumbledore said, "we are beyond grateful for the generosity you are already offering us. Let me point out, though, that we do have immediate needs and outstanding debts. It is not as if we would stockpile your money. We have actual victims in need and many people who would be willing to work with these victims if we could but cover costs they have already incurred. Couldn't you find it in your heart to give us a bit more up front?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "How about twenty-five thousand galleons? If you can provide me a report detailing how it was spent and another report detailing further needs, I could then offer an additional amount later."

"We are greatly indebted to you," Professor Dumbledore said, apparently accepting twenty-five thousand galleons as Bellatrix's best offer.

"I'll send you a bank draft by owl later," Bellatrix said, putting away her flask. "I don't happen to have my purse with me tonight."

"How could you forget to bring your purse? Sirius chuckled. "I didn't know there was a witch in this world who would leave home without money."

Despite harboring the same question herself, Lily shot Sirius a glare and was about to reprimand him, but was cut off when Moody decided to voice his own paranoid suspicions.

"I did not realize there was so much liquidity in the Black holdings," Moody commented.

"The goblins have intimated to me that there is plenty of liquidity in the Black holdings," Bellatrix countered. "Howbeit, you should probably know that this money is not strictly coming from the Black family."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes peering curiously at Bellatrix over the rims of his spectacles.

"In his final moments, Romulus Malfoy turned over the Malfoy family's liquid holdings to my husband," Bellatrix informed the Order. "For some reason, he took offense when he saw that his son was among the Death Eaters who had just assassinated my father and were about to kill him as well. Remember that not all purebloods are evil. It was Romulus Malfoy, my uncle, and my father who took the first steps against the dark lord. To this day, their resources are being used to counter the Death Eaters."

"We will of course remember that," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

"I wonder what Lucius would say if he found out that every person he has killed will result in increased expenditures from the Malfoy fortune," James snickered.

"We shall probably never know," Professor Dumbledore declared. "Mr. Malfoy happens to be our next topic of conversation. I think it also relates to Bellatrix."

"Oh?" Harry, doing his level best to impersonate Bellatrix, asked as the gathered Order members stared at him.

"The details are still extremely vague at best," Dumbledore said, "but it sounds like Lucius Malfoy may have been killed. There has been no news or word of his son, Draco. My sources tell me that you probably are involved."

For Harry, calculating the appropriate Bellatrix-like reaction was simple. He quirked Bellatrix's lips and put on a smirk. "What if I am?"

"It means that we will have things to discuss privately," Dumbledore said. "But perhaps for the sake of the Order, you could tell me how you were able to arrange the events in Albania and confirm the status of Lucius and Draco Malfoy."

"Lucius is dead and Draco is none of your business." Harry declared. "How did I manage it? Simple. You can buy nearly anything with gold."

"It was my understanding that mercenaries have not been reliable of late, particularly when they are engaged to perform work against the Death Eaters," Frank Longbottom said slowly as he peeled apart Harry's attempt to make a vague explanation. "It would seem to me that once you sent your hired wands to Albania, you would never hear from them again."

Harry stared back at Frank Longbottom as he raced to formulate a Bellatrix-like response. Finally, it came to him, and Harry pasted a smirk on Bellatrix's face. "I paid cash-on-delivery."

Apparently times were not so desperate for the Order so as to preclude them from having refreshments at meetings. Harry had only enough time to grab a small slice of one of Mrs. Weasley's cakes before Professor Dumbledore had taken Harry aside for a heart-to-heart conversation with Bellatrix. The house the Order used as a meeting place had a small room that had once probably served as somebody's study.

Dumbledore fetched a chair from one side of the room and set it down for Harry, who was still impersonating Bellatrix. Harry took another swig from his Polyjuice flask as Dumbledore brought another chair over for his own use.

"Am I to understand that Peter Pettigrew is in your custody?" Dumbledore inquired as soon as they were both seated.

"That is correct," Harry said, using a fork to cut off a small piece of cake. He supposed that Bellatrix might have foregone the cake entirely, but at any rate, if she had taken a slice of cake, she would have definitely been dainty about eating it.

"And what of Draco Malfoy?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Also enjoying my hospitality," Harry said, taking a small bite of cake.

"I am not convinced that you taking it upon yourself to hold prisoners is the best thing for all involved," Dumbledore said.

"And how would we all benefit from you assuming the safekeeping of Mr. Pettigrew?"

"He no doubt has information about the Death Eaters and Voldemort," Dumbledore said.

"More information than Snape?" Harry said, taking the liberty to roll Bellatrix's eyes. He was pretty sure she would have done it.

"Any information is useful," Dumbledore countered.

"But I think not more valuable than what I will be able to do with Pettigrew and his connection to the only horcrux I have actually captured," Harry said.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, giving up. "What about Mr. Malfoy?"

"That is between me and my sister," Harry said, internally cringing at having to refer to Draco's mom as his sister, though he supposed she was his sister-in-law.

"There are more things I would like to talk about," Dumbledore said, "but I think you need to get back to the Burrow with the Weasleys for tonight. We are still nervous about what those ward probes they sensed might mean about the future. Perhaps we could more formally meet in the near future?"

"Of course," Harry said, trying to fit in a couple of more dainty bites of cake before the conversation ended and he returned to the kitchen to depart in the company of the Weasleys. "I will let you know an appropriate time to meet when I send you the bank draft for twenty-five thousand galleons."

"How many more stops do we have?" Draco snarled as he and Bellatrix cruised down a street near Privet Drive in her BMW.

"Just one more of the kind that you dislike," Bellatrix said in a faux sweet voice. "Then we've got one that you will positively loathe."

"Why can't you be satisfied to chain me up in a room like a normal jailor would?" Draco grumbled.

"It may be the stubbornness in me, but I just do not see why I should pay to feed you," Bellatrix said as she slammed on the brakes and came to a screeching halt in front of a house that depressingly looked like every other house in the entire neighborhood. "If you want to eat, you have to earn the money to buy food from that shop I showed you earlier."

Draco glared at her.

"Now," Bellatrix said. "I am going to let you do this one alone. Go up to the front door, knock on it, ask to see the lady of the house, and negotiate for how often you will work on the lawn and how much you will get paid."

"Do I have to offer to edge the lawn and get the weeds in the flower garden like that Dursley monster demands?" Draco asked sulkily.

"Of course not," Bellatrix said, "but that would be passing up an opportunity to increase your income, or in other words, you would be choosing to have less and worse food to eat. Now get going before I hex you."

Draco exited the car, slammed the door shut, and walked up to the front door. While he talked to the homeowner about her interest in having him work on her lawn, Bellatrix fiddled with the air conditioning, still not having been able to figure out how it worked. Her learning experience ended when Draco returned.

"I'm hired," Draco grumbled as he climbed back into the nice car.

"Wonderful," Bellatrix said. "That makes eight houses for which you do lawn care. That should cover your food bill. Luckily for you, I pay the utilities and even bought you a mower and lots of yard tools."

"That's actually only seven houses," Draco grumbled. "You signed me up to do that Muggle moron's lawn for free."

"But think of all the referrals and training he gave you," Bellatrix said, shifting the car into gear and jerkily pulling away from the curb. "Besides, you can start charging him after the four weeks are up."

"What if this isn't enough money to get me food?" Draco demanded. "And what about clothes? I can't wear these things every day."

"If your clothes wear out, you shall have to take the initiative to find more clients," Bellatrix said, yawning tiredly as they came to an intersection at which she turned.

"Where are we going now?"

"I actually bought another one of these houses," Bellatrix told Draco as they turned down another street in the Surrey neighborhood. "It's what the Muggle real estate people call a fixer-upper. The idea is that you fix it up, and I'll sell it for much more than I bought it, making a handsome profit, particularly because the labor was so cheap."

"Oh, so now we're onto slave labor?" Draco demanded. "You're not even trying to pretend that it is for my own good or upkeep?"

"I will share the profit with you," Bellatrix said. "Thus, you will be motivated to make the best out of this opportunity. The more work you put into this house in between lawn mowing, the more money you will get when I sell the house. Simple enough?"

"I guess," Draco sulked as they stopped in front of a house. Forlornly, he looked out the car window at the house. Even from the outside, it appeared to be in poor repair.

"Here is the key," Bellatrix proclaimed, dropping a key ring with a single key on Draco's lap. "Inside, you will find a list of projects that must be completed before I can sell it. I have even stockpiled some of the supplies you will need. Shall I drop you off and let you get started now, or shall I take you home for the night?"

Draco looked at the house and then eyed the storm clouds gathering to the west. "I suppose I'll have to walk home later if you drop me off now."

"Probably," Bellatrix said in a matter of fact tone.

"Maybe tomorrow then," Draco said.

"So be it," Bellatrix said, letting off the car's brake and zooming down the road back toward Privet Drive. They arrived quite quickly, and Bellatrix pulled into the driveway.

Without speaking any further to each other, Bellatrix and Draco exited the car and made their way inside. There, Draco stomped up the stairs and to his room. Bellatrix watched this, and as soon as she heard his door close, she drew her wand and unlocked the spells that secured and hid the basement door.

Bellatrix made her way down the stairs. In the part of the basement that was not devoted to being Peter Pettigrew's holding cell, she had set up a small lab in which she had tried to work on the diary now that Pettigrew was around and presumably would be able to provide the key for Bellatrix to access the diary's inner workings. Unfortunately, the mysteries of the diary were still as inaccessible as ever before.

Eyeing the table on which the diary sat, Bellatrix came to a decision. Grimly, she checked her timepiece and ascertained that Harry would already be at the Weasleys and would not likely be stopping by Privet Drive for some time.

Grabbing the diary, Bellatrix took it over to Peter's cell where she unlocked the door and let herself in. Fearfully, Peter Pettigrew sat huddled in a corner. Bellatrix's interactions with him in the past twelve hours had been few, but they had been enough for him to know that he should be afraid.

Bellatrix tossed the journal onto the floor near her feet. "Mr. Pettigrew," she said, "it would seem that we have come to a crossroads. I had hoped that capturing you would prove to unlock the mysteries and powers of this diary."

"W-why me?" Pettigrew said, sounding as if he was weeping.

"You wrote in it, did you not?" Bellatrix asked. "You are familiar with its power, are you not?"

"Yes," Pettigrew said, "but I didn't mean to. I swear. I was just using it as a place to take notes."

Bellatrix refrained from asking him if he thought she was a dimwit. "It would seem that your writing in the diary partially activated its powers. Because of that, I am unable to do what I want with this diary. Not a single one of the spells I prepared in anticipation of working with the diary are proving effective." she explained.

"So are you going to kill me?" Pettigrew asked nervously.

"That is an interesting proposition," Bellatrix said. "However, I am not entirely sure that it would solve my problems. It may be that my spells would have been ineffective on the diary even if you had never touched it."

"What do you want from me?" Pettigrew demanded, his tone of voice at odds with his pathetic demeanor.

"The thing is," Bellatrix said, "I could keep you around here and keep experimenting on the diary for weeks and months, but I do not think it would be useful. I am going to offer you your choice of three options. First, I can hand you over to the Ministry and have them prosecute you for any crimes you have committed. Second, I can hand you over to your friends in the Order of the Phoenix and let them decide how best to deal with you. Third, I can keep you here and let you see if you can unlock the powers of the diary for me."

"I'm not sure," Peter said.

"If you choose one of the first two options, I shall destroy the diary," Bellatrix said. "If you choose the third, I expect your full cooperation in helping me access the diary's power."

"And if I help you unlock its power?" Pettigrew asked, suddenly sounding curious.

Bellatrix shrugged. "I will think about it."

"Very well," Pettigrew said. "I choose the third option."

"So quickly?" Bellatrix asked, bending over to pick up the diary.

"The third choice is the only good choice," Pettigrew said, seeming to warm up to the idea, but nervously watching as Bellatrix made like she was about to leave the room with the diary. "I can even start working on the diary tonight. By tomorrow morning, we could have made significant progress."

"Really?" Bellatrix asked. "By tomorrow morning?"

"Well, it could take longer," Peter said, "but why not start as soon as possible?"

"I suppose I could leave the diary with you tonight," Bellatrix said slowly.

"Yes, please, and some ink and a quill," Peter begged anxiously. "I promise you, I'll help you unlock the diary's powers."

"All right," Bellatrix said, leaving the cell long enough to fetch a bottle of ink and a quill from her purse. She returned to the cell and placed the ink and quill on the floor along with the diary.

"Okay," said Pettigrew. "I-I'll see you in the morning then?"

"Yes," Bellatrix said slowly, taking one last look at Pettigrew. "Remember to keep me fully informed of everything. I shall expect a full report tomorrow."

"Of course," Pettigrew said eagerly, looking as if he had had new life infused into him.

Bellatrix nodded silently and left the cell, making especially sure to secure the locks on the cell door. Suddenly feeling depressed, she leaned back against the wall and let out a sigh. Harry would not be pleased at all. But, could Harry truly argue that Peter did not deserve what he was about to get? She had offered Peter plain and simple justice. She had offered him the mercy that his friends might give him. She had even offered to let him work with her against the dark lord.

But, Bellatrix knew that Pettigrew was even now scribbling in the diary, hoping to conjure the Tom Riddle therein so that he could use Riddle's power to overpower her and escape from Privet Drive. Hopefully, the Tom Riddle inside the diary would not be able to perceive that such escape was impossible before it was too late for him to retreat from Bellatrix's trap.