In the space of the past month, she had lost her uncle and her father. She had been attacked by the dark lord. Her aunt and mother had heartlessly tried to match her up with the wizard responsible for the deaths of her father and uncle. Voldemort had nearly killed Harry and might still succeed if Harry did not get well. All of her plans had practically been frustrated.
She was now Lady Black, but for what? Her anger and sadness built upon itself, summoning other memories in which Bellatrix had been sad or angry. Her mother had never treated her well. Her aunt had always been nearly contemptuous of her, treating her as a pawn. The only people that had treated her decently had been her father and uncle-and Harry, though he had been reluctant to become too intimate. Her mother and aunt had practically taken that away from her.
It was not long before Bellatrix began sobbing. Her sobs eventually transformed into howls anger. Eventually, she remembered what she had promised her mother and aunt. When she became Lady Black, she would burn them from the family tapestry. Bellatrix looked down at her left hand. On the ring finger was the ring that made her Lady Black. Vaguely she wondered whether it was the same ring Walburga had once possessed or whether it was a different ring. Bellatrix quashed the thought. It did not matter. What mattered for this moment was the tapestry. If Grimmauld Place was undefended, and if the circumstances were right, she would alter the family tapestry tonight.
.....
A simple charm alerted Walburga Black to the fact that someone had entered the Ancient House of Black through the front door. Assuming that it was one of the dark lord's followers in need of aid, Walburga got out of her bed, wrapped herself in a bathrobe, and made her way out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the front hall with her wand lighting the way. It was empty.
Frowning, Walburga turned slowly, scrutinizing everything the light from her wand made visible. "Is anyone there?" she said, raising her voice slightly. There must be someone. The charm would not go off if nobody had entered the house. There was no possibility that Kreacher had set it off, either. The charm only detected wizards and witches.
"Hello?" Walburga called.
Nobody responded.
Deciding that a follower of the dark lord had merely taken advantage of Grimmauld Place as a location to dodge into and apparate from, Walburga yawned and made her way back up the stairs. It was at the top of the stairs that she smelled smoke. It took only a moment to detect that the smoke was coming from the tapestry room.
"Kreacher!" Walburga screamed, rushing toward the room and opening the door. Inside, she found that the entire tapestry was aflame. "Kreacher!" Walburga yelled, using her wand to start shooting water at the flames. The water had no effect.
The firelight flickered and cast shadows on Walburga's panicked face as she stared at the burning tapestry. Behind her, she heard a small giggle. Walburga spun around and was startled to see her niece Bellatrix standing there, fingering her wand casually.
"You're dead," Walburga breathed in amazement.
"Who told you that?" Bellatrix asked. "The dark lord?"
Walburga said nothing.
"Your silence speaks for you," Bellatrix said, an odd smile on her face. "I bet you didn't lose a minute of sleep over it. I had planned to save the tapestry, but you have burned so many names from it that I decided we may as well get a new one. I can assure you that your name will not be on it. You betrayed the Blacks by murdering your husband and my father."
"You know nothing, child," Walburga sneered.
"Says the woman who didn't even know I was alive," Bellatrix retorted.
Walburga was furious, but she had still had a weapon about which Bellatrix had apparently failed to remember. Kreacher had finally arrived and was waiting in the shadows outside the door to the tapestry room. "Defend me, Kreacher!" Walburga screamed.
The fanatically loyal house elf used its magic to pop into the center of the room. Like a maniac, he grinned at Bellatrix and raised his hand. The house elf's fingers snapped and a flash of light and heat exploded outward from the house elf toward Bellatrix.
Bellatrix's new Black family ring buzzed and the house elf's magic bypassed her. Bellatrix glanced down at her person and saw that she was completely unscathed. "I guess you forgot that a Black house elf can't strike down the mistress of the Black family," she said. "He's also obligated to follow my every wish.
Walburga gasped. "You're Lady Black?"
Bellatrix deigned to make no reply to Walburga. Rather, she addressed the house elf. "Kreacher," Bellatrix said, "you may continue serving Walburga. However, you shall not allow her to leave the house or communicate with any person other than me. Nobody is to know I was here or that I am alive or that I am giving you orders." Bellatrix continued to tiredly rattle off instructions to Kreacher. She knew well that house elves were tricky creatures and thus did her utmost best to cut off every loophole the creature would try to find. Walburga was to be a prisoner in her own house-at least until it did not matter whether Walburga could advertise that she and Harry were alive and well. Perhaps then, Bellatrix would turn her out onto the streets penniless.
Vaguely, Bellatrix wondered whether Harry would approve of what she had done tonight. Probably not. He was somewhat cautious by nature-at least when it came to planning. However, the marriage contract had given Bellatrix latitude to deal with the members of the Black family.
Satisfied that she had properly instructed the house elf with regard to Walburga's care and that the instructions were sufficient to keep her and Harry's own presence in the future secret, Bellatrix prepared to depart from Grimmauld Place.
"Who did you marry to become Lady Black?" Walburga said loudly, demanding that Bellatrix pay attention to her.
Bellatrix smiled at Walburga cheekily. "Lord Black, of course. I'll be seeing you later, auntie. I trust that you have all sorts of information about the dark lord that I'll want to know about."
....
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