"I don't like this idea," Sirius muttered. "I don't want to…"
"We have to," Harry said firmly, holding him tightly by the elbow to prevent him from slipping away. Nearby, Snape looked mournful, while Narcissa Malfoy and her son were visibly nervous.
The headmaster had refused to let the boys leave school until the holidays, insisting they could wait. That is, until Sirius Black threatened to bite Lucius Malfoy, and Malfoy, in turn, kicked the Minister. Well, not just kicked—he also gave him some money, but what difference did that make?
"How is she, sir?" Harry asked the attending Healer.
"Not well, young man," the Healer spread his hands. "What did you expect after so many years in Azkaban? This young man"—he glanced sideways at Sirius—"recovered quickly, but his conditions were far better! You may go in and take a look, it's allowed."
The two Aurors at the entrance to the ward frowned at first but quickly recognized the visitors and relaxed.
Bellatrix Lestrange hadn't been shaved bald like Sirius; they had only trimmed her mane, combed her hair, and thoroughly washed her. Not that it made her look any better.
"She doesn't understand where she is," the Healer murmured. "She either cries or lashes out at the staff. And she won't let go of that cloak—no idea where she got it!"
Harry watched as Bellatrix absentmindedly stroked the white bedsheet, her unfocused gaze fixed on the falling snow outside the window. In her other hand, she clutched a crumpled dark piece of cloth, which Harry recognized as his own cloak.
"Oh, Merlin, Bella…" Narcissa gasped, raising her hands as if to embrace her sister but hesitated.
"Narcissa?" Bellatrix turned her head. "What are you doing here? Or… am I dead?"
"Bella, you're alive! Alive!" Lady Malfoy cried. "Please, wake up! Look, this is Draco, your nephew!"
She pushed forward her clearly terrified son.
"Has he been born already?" Bellatrix asked in confusion.
"Aunt Bella, I'm in my second year at Hogwarts," Draco said hesitantly. "You… you'll get better, I believe it!"
Harry thought Draco wanted nothing more than to run as far away as possible, as fast as he could.
"Where is Rodolphus?" Bellatrix asked quietly.
"He's dead, dear," Narcissa forced herself to sit on the edge of the bed and began stroking her sister's curly hair. "He passed away six months ago. Rabastan is still alive, but…" She sighed and spread her hands.
"And Meda?" Bellatrix glanced around anxiously.
"She couldn't come, but don't worry, she's fine," Lady Malfoy assured her. Harry marveled at her composure. "She has a wonderful daughter, who has already finished school and is working…"
Narcissa elegantly avoided mentioning that Nymphadora Tonks was an Auror.
"And here's Sirius… You remember Sirius, don't you?" she cooed, beckoning their cousin closer. He approached hesitantly. "He's alive too, perfectly fine, still the same troublemaker…"
"Oh, I remember," Bellatrix said indifferently. "Traitor."
"You know what, Bella," Sirius snapped immediately, "look who's talking!"
Harry watched as two glares clashed—black against gray-blue—and quickly intervened:
"I'm Harry. Harry Potter. We've met before, Aunt Bella."
"But… you died," she said, bewildered.
"No, I'm quite alive. By the way, if you don't mind, I'll just take my cloak for a moment… Thanks. I had a lemon in the pocket, and if it had rotted, the whole ward would stink!" Harry grinned charmingly. "Here, if you want, you can have it back… Don't worry, everything will be fine. Well, terrible, of course, since you were locked up in that… mm… castle for so many years, but I'm a tiny bit Black myself, and Blacks don't abandon family."
Bellatrix clutched the cloak to her chest, then, unexpectedly, burst into tears.
"Quickly! A calming draught!" the Healer shouted.
"She doesn't need any calming potion," Snape, who had been standing apart, said grimly. "She'll feel better once she cries it out."
"And you're here too?!" Bellatrix flared up.
"We're all here, Aunt," Harry quickly stepped between them. "Your sister, your nephew, your cousin… the only one missing is your brother-in-law… or was it son-in-law? I always mix them up. Anyway, Lord Malfoy couldn't make it—some ministry business—and your other sister too, but maybe next time…"
"So I'm really not dead?" she asked again. "I'm not imagining this?"
"Right now…"
Harry opened the window, scooped up some fresh snow from the windowsill, and made a snowball, which he placed in Bellatrix's thin hand. She flinched at first, then stared at her palm as icy droplets dripped from it.
"I can shove some down your collar too," Harry said calmly. "Really wakes you up. So, are we just a hallucination to you, or what?"
"I..." Bellatrix suddenly shook herself, wiped her wet hand on the sheet, and tried to sit up. Her sister moved to help her, but she pushed her away firmly. "If you are Harry Potter, I want to speak with you alone."
The others exchanged uneasy glances.
"She can still curse without a wand," Sirius said.
"Don't, Harry," Narcissa pleaded, clutching Draco closer.
"Potter, this is a bad idea," Snape scoffed.
"Well, if she insists, why not?" Harry replied. "You'll all be just outside. I doubt it'll take long."
Left alone with Bellatrix, he studied her face closely. Just as attentively, Director Black's portrait watched from the wall, maintaining a grave silence.
"Why do you call me 'Aunt'?" she asked.
"Because we're related, though the connection is a bit convoluted. But if you prefer, I can call you Mrs. Lestrange," Harry shrugged.
"Help me sit up," Bellatrix ordered after a pause, and he carefully adjusted the pillows.
"He wanted to kill you."
"I know. Didn't work."
"Do you realize what this is?" She raised her left hand. The Mark looked darker than Snape's—probably due to her pale skin.
"Of course," Harry shrugged again, touching the Mark and feeling the same sensation as before. "I've known for a while."
"He must return..." Bellatrix's eyes burned as she gazed at the Mark. "That's why he needed me... me, specifically..."
Director Black covered his face with a hand in the portrait.
"I don't know how or when, but he will come back, and then..."
"The world will tremble," Harry nodded, then blurted out, "Auntie, don't worry so much. I'm standing in for him for now."
Shen, the snake Harry had smuggled into the hospital under an oversized cloak (how else could he hide a two-meter serpent?), poked her head out of his sleeve, slithered onto Bellatrix's chest, and flicked her tongue across her face.
"Very s-s-sick," she concluded. "But s-s-she will recover."
"Thanks, dear," Harry told her. "Now, hide before someone sees you."
"Of course, mass-s-ster..."
"Auntie, don't pass out," Harry gently shook Bellatrix. "We need you well and in your right mind. Get better—your ancestor here will help, I stuck him right across from you—and then we'll talk, okay?"
"Yes..." she murmured weakly. "Potter?! This can't be real..."
"Oh, it can," Harry snorted and winked at the portrait, which looked ready to scold Bellatrix into a relapse. "Sirius! I think we can go now. See? Auntie's out cold."
*
«Hey, apple moth!
So, that's the deal. Thanks for helping bring my aunt out of her coma. She's still in rough shape (imagine surviving over ten years on prison rations!), but she's way more coherent now, so by winter, she'll be discharged... ta-da! To my godfather. Mrs Malfoy refused outright (afraid for her kid), the other sister has no clue, I think, so my poor dog has no choice. Besides, his house is so heavily warded that no one will find it (way better than my parents' place), so it's the perfect spot for her. He's thrilled to the point that... uh... I don't even have words for it! But he can't refuse; otherwise, she'd end up in some shelter, and that's unthinkable for our family. They'll get along.
By the way, my godfather invited me over for a week in the summer. Wanna come?»
*
«Hey, lemon eater!
Well, at least she's alive and free. And sane (I hope).
Visiting sounds tempting, but, mate, is that aunt of yours gonna kill me? I mean, I'm not a wizard!»
*
«Yo, apple moth!
Don't worry, my godfather's in charge there, and my aunt doesn't even have a wand. I'm sure she can still do magic, but she wouldn't risk it. Come on, please? I'm bored out of my mind without you, but I also want to spend time with my godfather!»
*
The doorbell rang persistently at Number Four, Privet Drive.
Petunia Dursley, upon opening the door, saw a tall woman in an old-fashioned long dress—thin, even haggard, with a white streak in her short, voluminous hair.
"What do you want?" she asked coldly, immediately recognizing one of "those weirdos."
"Does Harry Potter live here?" the woman asked curtly.
"Yes, madam, but he's not home right now. He's probably at his friend's place, two houses down on the left..." Petunia's biggest fear was that the woman would insist on waiting inside. "Oh, forgive me! Most likely, they're sitting in the apple tree on the abandoned lot over there—see the branches?"
"Thank you," the woman replied icily and walked away, her skirt rustling.
Petunia shut the door, crossed herself, and vowed to give Harry a piece of her mind when he returned. She had told him never to bring those freaks here again! Hmph. But that woman's hairstyle was quite interesting... That white streak looked very stylish… What if she dyed her own hair like that? With this thought, Petunia rushed to the mirror.
*
"...So yeah, they released her," Harry said, munching on an orange and letting juice drip onto the ground. "Oh, Terry... I have a feeling we need to relocate."
"Spotted?" Terry asked shortly.
"No... But we've fattened up so much that the branch is cracking. If we fall, it's fine, but I'd feel bad for the apple tree," Harry sighed.
"Let's move to the big oak; that thing could hold an elephant. And if Dudley tries anything, we'll just smack him as usual," Terry shrugged. "The apple tree is a shame, though. Now or later?"
"Mr. Potter," came a woman's voice from below, and Harry made a comically horrified face.
"Yes, Auntie Bella!" he called back, jumping to the ground. Before doing so, he signaled to Terry to stay put and keep quiet. "I'm glad to see you up and about, but... is something wrong?"
"I want to talk to you, Potter," she said through clenched teeth. "But I see someone else is here?"
"He's my friend," Harry said quickly. "But Auntie Bella, he's a Muggle. And I beg you, please don't do anything to him. You know I grew up with Muggles, and in general... May I introduce you?"
"Fine," Bellatrix said curtly, clearly uncomfortable.
"Terry! Come on down!" Harry barked.
Another boy parachuted down from the tree—shorter and skinnier than the so-called nephew, with reddish hair, blue eyes, and a fox-like face.
"Terence Higgs, at your service, ma'am," he said, bowing awkwardly. "If you please, just Terry."
"A Muggle, then?" she raised an eyebrow.
"One hundred percent," Harry assured her. "Uh… Where can we talk…? Sorry, there are no benches here, but this log is fairly clean. I can lay my jacket over it for you…"
"Thank you, no need," Bellatrix replied, brushing the log with a handkerchief before sitting down. Potter sat beside her, while Higgs took a spot behind him.
"Potter… Harry… I've been thinking about the revival…" She glanced at Higgs.
"Terry's in on it," Harry preempted her question. "Don't worry. And… Aunt Bella, forgive me for interrupting, but the concept has changed a bit."
"What do you mean…?"
"There's no need to wage war against Muggles," he said. "There are several billion Chinese alone. Do you know how many wizards exist in the world? What's the point of seizing power in Britain by force? Theoretically, sure, it's possible, but why? On the continent, they'd either think we're idiots or bomb us with missiles. We need to cooperate with Muggles! Take Terry, for example—"
"Why me, all of a sudden?!"
"Why not! Aunt Bella, do you know how modern Muggle wars are fought?"
She shook her head.
"Terry, is anyone home at your place?"
"Nope, Dad's off to Gringotts, and Mr. Lovegood whisked Mom away," Terry replied cheerfully.
Bellatrix shook her head. Muggles and Gringotts? Lovegood and some…
"We're Muggles," Terry explained calmly. "We can't use the Floo, so Dad has a permanent Portkey to Gringotts, and if needed, Mr. Lovegood escorts Mom personally. They have a business. So the house is empty."
"Then let's go, Aunt Bella. We have something to show you. Just, please, don't wreck the furniture!"
"Terry, you haven't deleted that war movie yet?"
"Yeah, right! Dad watches it at night—helps him sleep better…"
Bellatrix felt utterly out of place in a Muggle house, and when an unfamiliar box lit up from within, she had a strong urge to smash it with something heavy. The only thing stopping her was the absence of a wand and the fact that Harry was busy tinkering with the insides of the device, muttering under his breath.
"Done, it's working!" he said. "Turn it on, Terry!"
…"Aunt, would you like some tea?" Harry asked sympathetically half an hour later. So what if it was just a recording of military exercises? They were only using blanks!
"No, thank you…"
"Do you see now? You can block a machine gun burst with a shield, sure—but who's to say there won't be another shot from behind? A grenade launcher against Bombarda… A flamethrower? Tanks? Back in the war with Grindelwald, they were lousy, but now they even drop them from planes… Don't you see? What you were doing was pointless. You tortured a few dozen Muggles to death, but the rest didn't even notice! They just assumed it was some lunatic or a repeat offender… People in this world don't believe in magic," Harry added. "Or rather, those who do—believe in witchcraft, prophecies, UFOs, and the Yeti—you can't deal with them, their minds are already gone. And those who don't believe? You won't convince them either; they'll think they're hallucinating. Or hypnotized. Right, Terry?"
"Yeah."
"Exactly. And a squad of commandos, convinced they're after a hypnotist, will flatten any wizard. By the way, have you seen jet fighters and cruise missiles?"
"Enough, please…" Bellatrix covered her eyes with a hand. "Was it all for nothing? Have we lost? You're right. We need to look for economic solutions now. And we, the fighters, are useless! Why did you pull me out of Azkaban, just to humiliate me?!"
"Aunt!" Harry gently took her thin wrist. "What are you saying?! Who else will train the next generation? We've got a Duelling Club at school now, but it's a disaster! No one knows the rules, no one knows how to fight… Experts like you are worth their weight in gold! Please, get better, and we'll come up with something incredible!"
A loud pop echoed through the living room, and Bellatrix flinched, reaching for a nonexistent wand.
"It's just Mom and Mr. Lovegood, don't worry," Terry said. "But wow, your reflexes are amazing!"
"I'd rather not meet them," she murmured.
"No problem, we'll go out the back door," Harry replied. "Let's go, Aunt… or will you Apparate from here?"
"No," Bellatrix said after a moment's thought. "I'd like to discuss something else with you, Harry. And…"
"I trust Terry as much as I trust myself," Harry preempted her again. "Please, let him come with us. And do call me 'you,' I'm not an adult!"
"So be it," she replied and remained silent until they returned to the clearing by the fallen tree.
"Harry, do you… know anything about the Dark Lord?"
"I know some things," he replied readily. "Probably less than I should. If you could tell me more, I'd be very grateful! For example, how exactly is he going to be revived? I haven't found anything about that in the books!"
"That information is not, and never will be, in public sources," Bellatrix said with a touch of arrogance. "Have you ever heard of Horcruxes?"
"No," Harry admitted honestly, perking up. "What are they?"
"A powerful wizard can separate part of their soul and place it into a vessel," she explained. "Do you understand…?"
"Yeah," he nodded, pulling an orange from his pocket and thoughtfully peeling it. "I get it. I suppose the Dark Lord made as many of these things as he could, right? Want a mandarin?"
"Oh… no, thank you," Bellatrix declined.
"You're right. He created several Horcruxes, making himself practically immortal."
"That's if they don't get destroyed, I assume," Harry said. "Do you know what they actually are? You were his right hand, if I'm not mistaken…"
"Oh, yes…" she sighed heavily. "But I haven't heard of all of them."
"Could you elaborate?" he asked, intrigued.
"I only know for certain about Hufflepuff's Cup, Ravenclaw's Diadem, Slytherin's Locket, and the Peverell Ring," Bellatrix said with some pride.
"Well, the guy definitely didn't have self-esteem issues," Harry muttered. "Good thing he didn't shove one into the Sword of Gryffindor! Hmm… Are you saying there were actually more?"
"Yes. I suspect that one of the Horcruxes was his snake, Nagini," Bellatrix said for some reason. "It's a great art—to make a living creature into a Horcrux!"
"I believe it," Harry said seriously. "So, if we gather all this stuff or at least get our hands on something, we could resurrect the Dark Lord? Oh, excuse me, the Lord?"
"Exactly," Bellatrix's eyes sparkled.
"We should look into that," Potter said calmly. "Do you, by any chance, know where all of this might be kept?"
"I know for certain where the cup is," she smirked.
"And where is it?"
"In my husband's vault," Bellatrix smiled even wider. "But I can't get it out of there—our accounts are frozen, and access to the vault is blocked!"
Harry thought for a moment, exchanged glances with Terry…
"Mrs. Lestrange," Terry spoke up. "What if we play dirty?"
"What do you mean?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Just declare that you've repented and, to atone for your sins, you wish to donate the cup to Hogwarts," Terry replied calmly. "I think, under such circumstances, they'll open the vault for you. And once it's in Hogwarts, Harry will figure out a way to get his hands on it. Actually, if we have descriptions—or better yet, drawings—we could make a copy of the cup and switch it out after the act of, hmm, 'donation,' so no one notices right away."
"Amusing," Bellatrix mused. "I wouldn't have thought of that."
"Well, I am Jewish," Terry said with dignity. "I'm supposed to be good at thinking up things like this."
"It's worth a shot…"
"Nothing to lose, Aunt Bella," Harry snorted as he peeled another mandarin. "So, will you give it a try?"
She absentmindedly took a few slices.
"Yeah, and where's the rest?"
"No idea," Bellatrix shook her head. "The locket seems to be missing—the Lord was furious. As for the diadem, the ring, and the snake, I have no clue."
"Ravenclaw's diadem…" Harry scratched the back of his head. "We should ask Luna—she might know something. And for the locket—Malfoy."
"Better not," she stopped him. "They were never to be trusted! And even though Narcissa is my sister, her husband and son leave much to be desired!"
"Fine, we'll try another approach," Potter agreed peacefully. "I don't know who the Peverells are, but we'll look into it. And as for the snake… we'll find her too. It'd be really useful if you knew how many Horcruxes the Lord had in total!"
"Alas…"
"Shame," he replied sincerely. "But from what I understand, we just need to find at least one? Or maybe a couple, just to be sure? Perform some kind of bloody ritual? Aunt Bella, how exactly would he come back? Where would the body come from?"
"It can be created," she answered uncertainly. "But it would be better to possess an already existing one…"
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry frowned.
"Perhaps he will be reborn in you," Bellatrix whispered. "You will become the Dark Lord… he will take over your body and mind…"
"Hey! My mind is off-limits!" Harry protested. "I still need it!"
"So do I," Terry added.
"But actually, that's an interesting idea," Potter mused. "Auntie, remember that silly prophecy? It said something about 'marking as his equal.' Doesn't that ring a bell?"
"Ah…"
"The Lord is dead," Harry said sweetly, rising to his full height. "Long live the new Lord!"
Terry clamped his hands over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Bellatrix stared at Harry, wide-eyed.
"I was joking," he said, sitting back down. "But every joke has some truth to it. We'll look for the Horcruxes—who knows, maybe one of them will latch onto me?"
*
"Harry, how do you even manage to talk to that creepy woman?" Terry asked after Bellatrix had left.
"She's fine," Harry reassured him. "I mean, of course, she's completely bonkers, but aren't we all?"
"And why did you make her think you're the reincarnation of that… Lord?"
"I didn't. She came up with that on her own," Harry smirked. "But that's for the best—it means I can be sure she won't kill me anytime soon. You either, by the way. So you're coming with me!"
"No, no, no, I don't want to!" Terry objected.
"I'll go mad alone with those two! You're coming, and that's final!" Harry sighed. "Alright, the locket and the ring are a lost cause, but the snake… Terry, where are you going?"
"I have a feeling I know what you're about to do, so I'll just sit up in this tree for a while," Terry replied. "I think she can handle me on my own!"
"Coward," Harry said, but then he couldn't help laughing. "Alright, go ahead…"
Waiting until his friend was safely hidden in the branches, he whispered:
"Little snakes, my friends, show yourselves!"
The grass rustled—snakes slithered toward him from all sides, mostly harmless grass snakes, but there were a few large vipers among them.
"Sweet snakes," Harry continued, "I really need to find one of your relatives, but I don't know where to look! Spread the word among your kin, your neighbors—I'm searching for a very, very large snake named Nagini… She's probably asleep right now, so if anyone finds her, don't wake her up. Just tell me where she is. I'll be leaving soon, but my friend—the one up in the tree… you sense him? He'll pass the message to me."
"Hey! I don't know how to talk to them!" Terry called down.
"You don't have to. They'll show you on a map," Harry smirked. "Thanks in advance, dear snakes. And don't hurt my friend—he may not speak your language, but we grew up together!"
The snakes quickly slithered away.
"So, what did they say?" Terry grumbled as he climbed down from the tree.
"That there's no perfection in this world," Harry chuckled. "So if you wake up and see a snake on your pillow, don't scream. They're very smart—they won't harm you since I told them not to."
"Bloody Snake King!"
"Exactly. Now go pack your things—we're going to my godfather's!"