The Diary of Bellatrix Black - May 1968

***1 May 1968, Hogsmeade***

There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort.

What an awful day.

I woke to the sound of the door opening suddenly and angry footsteps approaching my bed. The phrase, “Magical law enforcement!” sprang to mind. I reached for my wand on the bedside table, but a woman’s hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled, jerking me out of bed unarmed. She slapped me.

“Mother?”

Her words came as a low, angry hiss. “Hold your tongue, Bellatrix Druella Black! I don’t even have the vocabulary to describe how furious, how disappointed I am. Sit. Down.”

I glared at her, but I knew that fiery look in her eyes. I sat.

Mother took my wand.

“Mother—”

“Mimblewimble!” Her spell made my tongue fall completely numb. For what felt like a long time, she just glared at me and attempted to reign in her deep, fast breaths. Finally, she said, “There is a chance. A chance. That we can control the damage.” She turned suddenly. “I can’t even look at you right now.” She started pacing. “You’ve always struggled to control your temper. I had such hopes that Markleton would be a good influence on you. And then the Dark Lord’s flattering attentions! Don’t you realize that those Occlumency lessons were a compliment to your father and myself? To all the Blacks and Rosiers?” She abruptly lunged at me, one hand clutching my throat, the other pointing her wand directly at my face.

I froze. The room around us seemed to fade. All I could see was Mother’s face. Slowly, even she grew dark.

Her lip curled into a snarl. She pushed me hard, releasing me as I hit the bed. I coughed and gasped for air. She returned to pacing.

“If we can’t fix it,” she said, “I really might kill you.” Mother stopped walking and looked at me, then laughed. “I suppose I know where your temper comes from!” Her cackling intensified, rising in pitch and volume until tears slipped down her cheeks.

I sat up and waited. My vision and mouth gradually returned to normal.

Mother’s laughter died back down. She wiped her eyes. “Oh, goodness,” she said. “All right. I came here with work to do. Your wand.” She held it up demonstratively. I opened my hand to receive it but she shook her head. “I’m taking it with me for now.”

“Taking it with you?” I repeated. “Aren’t you taking me with you?”

“No, you’re confined to these quarters. We might manage to save you from the Dementors, but you absolutely must be punished. While you’re here, alone and wandless in the dirtiest inn in all of wizarding Britain, you’ll have plenty of time to think things over.”

“How much time?” I asked.

“Either you’ll be back at Hogwarts in time for your exams, or you’ll spend the rest of your life in Azkaban.” She smiled. “Or I’ll murder you.”

It wasn’t hyperbole.

“Ta.”

Mother headed for the door.

“Wait. Mother, please—”

The door closed. The lock clicked.

“What am I to eat?” I asked through the door.

I could hear Mother casting spells to secure the lock.

“How am I to go to the bathroom?”

Silence.

Those questions were answered about fifteen minutes later. Blinker apparated into the room with her little baby on her hip, carrying a chamber pot. She informed me she would empty it for me immediately upon every use, and deliver meals at six, noon, and six.

I told her, “I’ll need you to fetch me some books, too.”

“Madam Black is ordering Blinker to deliver nothing but the chamber pot and food, Miss Bellatrix,” Blinker said, her eyes welling with tears. “Blinker is so, so sorry, Miss Bella. Blinker wants to obey Miss Bella’s orders, but Blinker is not allowed!”

The impertinence! “Twist your ear!” I demanded.

She put down the chamber pot and twisted her ear until her whimpers grew into cries. Her baby looked at her confusedly.

“I’m satisfied,” I told her.

She stopped and bowed. “Thank you, Miss Bellatrix.” With a crack, the elves vanished from sight.

I flopped back onto the bed, wondering how long it was until six o’clock. At least I’d managed to rid the mattress of parasites before Mother confiscated my wand. There isn’t much magic I can practice without it.

I don’t have any books for my extracurricular studies with me. All I can do is catch up on homework, study for the written portions of my OWL’s, and hope the next face I see is friendlier than an Azkaban guard.

***2 May 1968, Hogsmeade***

There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort.

I am bored out of my mind here.

Blinker won’t even give me any news. I don’t know how they’re explaining my sudden absence, or what’s been done with Danielle or Hagrid.

***5 May 1968, Hogsmeade***

There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort.

I’ve had no human contact since Wednesday. Blinker comes as promised, and her little baby Misty, which smiles at me and chirps “Mih, mih,” because she can’t say “Miss Bellatrix” yet. I can see people through my magically sealed window, too, but no one responds when I shout or bang on the glass.

***8 May 1968, Letchworth***

There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort.

Daddy brought me home. I haven’t seen Mother. I have to go to a disciplinary hearing on Friday, and Daddy says I must have time to rest and perfect my presentation. He explained the situation to me. Some details he got via Cissy, who spoke with Valeria and Ganymede; the rest, from Professors Dippet and Kettleburn.

Back in the Forbidden Forest, when Adrienne saw the acromantula, she screamed and ran back towards the school. Ganymede saw this and rushed into the woods to look for the rest of us.

Ganymede came upon the sight of Hagrid, the giant spider, and three unconscious students. She released her Disillusionment Charm and stepped forward with a cover story: “Oh no! Are they all right? Did the harpy get them? I knew they shouldn’t have gone looking for it,” and so on.

Ganymede revived Sylvia and Millicent, then pretended to try and fail to revive Danielle. Hagrid carried Danielle up to the Hospital Wing, insisting that Millicent and Sylvia get checked out by Madam Pomfrey, too. All the while, Ganymede spun her story about her friends trying to “face their fears” and “get that harpy once and for all.”

Meanwhile, Adrienne had run screaming across the lawn. Valeria saw, vanished her illusion, and chased after Adrienne. Professor Kettleburn saw and intercepted them. He forced Adrienne to calm down at least enough to explain that the gamekeeper was “attacking students with a spider monster.”

Naturally, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher knew about Hagrid’s acromantula pet. He conveniently forgot to ask for more details (like why she was in the forest in the first place). He simply treated Adrienne and Valeria to soothing tea, alternately ranting about Hagrid’s thickheadedness and assuring Adrienne that the acromantula would not hurt her.

Too bad no opportunity presented itself for Ganymede to Confund Danielle. But by the time Madam Pomfrey allowed Dumbledore to question Danielle, Ganymede’s harpy-hunting story and and Adrienne’s attacking-acromantula story had caught on. So Millicent, Adrienne, Valeria, Ganymede, and the Confunded Sylvia are all swearing up and down that I acted in self-defence and ran away in fear.

Hagrid says he caught us dueling each other, that he knows “for a fact” that I attacked Sylvia in February, and that I had no grounds for trying to stun him and Aragog.

Danielle “seems terrified” and refuses to talk at all. Her only signs of physical injury were related to falling: sprained wrists and a scratch on her chin. Madam Pomfrey healed her in a trice, but Danielle spends her days in the Hospital Wing anyway.

For the past week, the Blacks and Rosiers have all been working overtime to polish their names. Daddy said a while ago that reputation is a currency. Now, the family is on a spending spree.

***1 May 1968, The Daily Prophet***

BEZOAR BAFFLED: CELEBRATED HERBOLOGIST ANNOUNCES MOST TOXIC PLANT KNOWN TO MAN, By Gregory Bermingham

FORDINGBRIDGE: Antigonus Rosier, the herbologist of Purest Pomelo Oil fame, announced this morning that his apple breeding experiments over the last six years have resulted in the most toxic plant known to man.

The Rappaccini Apple, as Rosier has named it, is a cross breed of four different species. Neurotoxic Lilian Apples and emetic Richard III Apples had previously been bred together, resulting in the potently poisonous Hixan Apples. Rosier has successfully crossbred these with Urticarian Apples and another species. In accordance with Ministry of Herbology guidelines, Rosier will not disclose the fourth species.

“Rappaccini Apples have all the unpleasant qualities found in their parent species,” said Algernon Longbottom, Treasurer of the National Herbology Honor Society and long-standing Professor of Herbology at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “They’ll make you have a seizure while you vomit and break out in hives. Fascinating!”

When asked what the antidote to the Rappaccini Apple is, Rosier said, “If you aren’t an absolute expert with Golpalott’s Second Law, you’d be better off not trying. Bezoars can’t help you.”

A spokeswizard from St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies said, “Of course he told us how to make the antidote. Might be too late by the time you get here, though.”

“I’ve put [Rosier’s] name in for Order of Merlin, Second Class, for Contributions to Herbology,” Professor Longbottom said. “Really, it was overdue.”

***1 May 1968, 9:02 A.M., Hogsmeade***

~ H O N E Y D U K E ’ S ~

• Crystallized Tropical Fruit … 1 box, large … 4 skl
• Crystallized Citrus Fruit … 1 box, large … 4 skl
• Crystallized Pear Medley … 1 box, large … 4 skl
• Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean … 1 carton, medium … 20 knt
• Fizzing Whizbees … 1 carton, medium … 20 knt

• Total … 13 skl, 11 knt
• Tender … 1 gal
• Change … 3 skl, 18 knt

~ Thank you for your patronage ~

***2 May 1968, Aldershot***

Cygnus,

I was honored and pleased to receive your letter.

Adrienne has told me so much about Bellatrix that I can sincerely say I’m glad of their friendship.

Lunch on Friday would be perfect. Have you been to Armand’s yet? It’s a new restaurant in Diagon Alley, and the hippocampus steak is exquisite.

Warm regards, Bernard Chester

***3 May 1968, The Daily Prophet***

ST MUNGO’S RECEIVES GENEROUS GIFT OF NEW POTIONS LABORATORY, By Betty Braithwaite

LONDON: St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies announced yesterday that the Hertfordshire Wizard Bowling Club has donated an entire, state-of-the-art laboratory for healing potions and salves.

Grant McLaird, Healer in Charge of the Phyllida Spore Ward for Toxin Exposure, thanked the HWBC profusely for their contributions. “I’d especially like to thank the Bowling Club’s officers,” Healer McLaird said. “To President Cygnus Black, Vice President McNair, Secretary Orion Black, and Treasurer Wikowski: I offer the sincerest thanks and well wishes from myself and the entire St Mungo’s community.”

In an interview last night, Mr Orion Black said, “I am honored to belong to a club that serves the wizarding community. You can’t put a price on good health.”

When asked about the HWBC’s historic support of Gellert Grindelwald, Black said, “It is important that we all learn from history and move forward with our lives,” and abruptly ended the interview.

***3 May 1968, King Cove***

Bella,

Pressure’s on. If you can get out of this without the DE’s help, the Dark Lord will be so impressed with you that he’ll consider teaching you Legilimency. Fail, and I’ll snap your neck with my bare hands. That is, if you’re even still alive when I return to England.

Best love, Markleton

***5 May 1968, Twickenham***

Druella,

Kass and I had a very productive dinner with Noveline Bones and Carlotta Proudfoot. So, that’s two more Hogwarts governors who have heard the praises of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

Now would you please finally return the photographs we discussed? How much penance does one indiscretion really merit?

-Ethel

***5 May 1968, Cardiff***

Cygnus,

Got another set of photographs for you. Figg don’t know the first thing about discretion.

I’m heading up to Glasgow next, so send the payment to me at the Halfmast.

-Bruce Mitchell

***6 May 1968, Cardiff***

Druella,

You’re foul. You’re mean and low. I’d never have thought it. You disgust me.

I agree to your terms. Let this transaction be the last I ever see of you and your twisted, shriveled heart.

-Alexandra Figg

***5 May 1968, The Sunday Prophet***

PERFORMERS WANTED: SHOWCASE FOR THE HOGWARTS SCHOLARSHIP FOUNDATION (advertisement)

LONDON: Can you sing, dance, or play an instrument? Is there a monologue or scene you’d love to act? Are you looking to showcase your ventriloquism? Have you trained a pet to perform a novel trick? If you’ve got what it takes to wow the crowd, let us know! The London branch of the Daughters of the International Statute of Secrecy is producing a Talent Showcase. All proceeds are to go to the Hogwarts Scholarship Foundation. Bask in the spotlight for a good cause! Send an owl with your name and a brief description of your act to Druella Black, C/O London DISS.

***6 May 1968, London***

Dear Mr and Mrs Black,

I wanted to express my personal gratitude for your significant contribution to my campaign. Along with all the wizarding world, I sincerely hope for Minister Leach’s prompt recovery from his confounding illness. All the same, I can’t help but feel that he did not lead the witches and wizards of Great Britain and Ireland in the best possible direction.

Magical abilities endow us with both great power and great responsibility. It is the Minister for Magic’s duty to recognize and protect the natural order. When I am elected, I will work tirelessly to ensure that the rights and privileges of established wizarding families do not disintegrate, as they are unfortunately in danger of doing.

Mr and Mrs Black, your contribution will help me help the Wizarding World. Thank you.

Warmest regards, Eugenia Jenkins, Chief Unspeakable, Department of Mysteries

***7 May 1968, Hogwarts***

Bella,

I chatted with Danielle. I can’t say she’s my favorite person, but maybe she won’t be so barbaric if she gets the chance to better herself. I talked about how affectionate and supportive you are with me. How, if I just try to be my best self, you shine at me like the sun. And how you’re only ever hard on Andie to encourage her to be her best.

I told her honestly that I would look up to you and love you even if you weren’t my sister. That your friendship is worth everything.

I gave Danielle a little tough love, too. I pointed out that her behavior so far has been low and unworthy. Then I said that I believe she can do better, if she just tried. That life is easier and happier when you try to meet and even exceed the expectations of the people who matter.

She listened to all of this but she didn’t say much.

I ended by pointing out that a different haircut could really accentuate her feminine features. She does have potential. It’s up to her if she wants to work on it or not.

If you’re open to it, I think she would like to be in on a spa day. She wants to feel included.

I love you, and I hope you can come back soon.

Best love to Mother and Daddy and Blinker and Misty, and if you see them, to Grandfather Rosier and the Orion Blacks too! -Cissy

***8 May 1968, Fordingbridge***

Dru,

Had lovely afternoon w/Algie Longbottom & Jack MacMillan. JM v. impressed w/Rappaccini orchard. Fast friends. There’s another H governor for you.

Best love, Papa

***9 May 1968, London***

Cygnus,

Theseus Belby drank me under the table last night. The man knows how to spin a yarn! Hogwarts governorship aside, I’m nominating him for HWBC membership.

-Orion

***9 May 1968, Godric’s Hollow***

Dru,

I took care of Jeffrey Perkins, as discussed. This makes us even, but I won’t hesitate to ask you for another favor, if the need arises. Likewise, I am ever at your service.

Henry & the children are in excellent health. I hope the best for you & yours.

Ever your devoted sister, Georgi

***9 May 1968, Letchworth***

There is a perfect wizard and his name is Lord Voldemort.

So, that’s eight of Hogwarts’ twelve governors influenced in my favor: Theseus Belby, Noveline Bones, Bernard Chester, Alexandra Figg, Jack MacMillan, Abraxas Malfoy, and Jeffrey Perkins.

Mr Malfoy and Daddy have apparently been developing a close friendship over the past few months. They take turns doing each other favors, like Mother and Aunt Georgiana do.

I don’t know Figg or what she was caught doing, but if she thinks Mother will release her after a single transaction, she is dead wrong.

I’ve also got five Hogwarts professors who will back me up: my friend Guideon Wikowski; Grandfather Rosier’s friend Algernon Longbottom; Mother’s friend Everleigh Graham; Sylvanus Kettleburn, who first heard about the acromantula attack; and of course, Horace Slughorn.

Mother and Daddy seem to have befriended Jenkins, too. I remember meeting her at a Slug Club party. Apparently, she’s poised to do very well in the upcoming election. I assume she’s got a long reach at the Ministry.

I’ve got my alibi. I’ve got my support. It has to be enough.

If it isn’t, I’m dead.

***10 May 1968, Hogwarts***

There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort.

He’s going to teach me Legilimency!

The day started in Letchworth. Blinker made me a large breakfast of eggs, toast, grilled tomatoes, and spicy sausages. Then, Mother and Daddy took me to London by sidealong apparition. We piled into a red booth that looks like one of those Muggle communication boxes. Daddy lifted up a piece of machinery shaped like a banana with fat ends, and pressed the code 6-2-4-4-2 on a panel of numbered buttons.

A polite voice said, “Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your names and business.”

“We are Cygnus Black, Druella Black, and Bellatrix Black, here for Bella’s hearing,” Daddy said.

“Thank you,” the voice replied.

The machine produced three badges, each with a name and “Disciplinary Hearing” on them. We affixed the badges to our robes as the booth moved downwards like a lift.

“This is demeaning,” Mother said flatly.

“Your father said it would make the best impression if Bella used the proper visitor’s entrance,” Daddy said. “He’s on the Wizengamot. He should know.”

“Level eight, Atrium,” the voice said. “Please register your wands with the security guard.”

“Register our wands?” Mother asked, indignant.

“I don’t even have my wand,” I pointed out. Mother gave me a quick, evil look, and I knew to hold my tongue.

Daddy led us across the stately hardwood floor towards the security guard’s booth. We passed a gigantic, glittering golden fountain, featuring statues of a witch and wizard being adored by a centaur, a goblin, and a house elf. The tiled bottom of the fountain sparkled with knuts.

The security wizard inspected our wands. Mother had been holding on to mine. She allowed the wizard to hand it back to me.

Then, we walked to the bank of lifts. It seems like every witch or wizard we passed had a familiar, respectful greeting for Daddy or Mother. “Morning, Cygnus.” “Good to see you, Mrs Black.” “Is that your Bellatrix? My goodness, she’s gotten so tall!” That sort of thing.

Daddy led us to a conference room with a grand table of shining ebony surrounded by matching wooden chairs. A little old witch with a matter-of-fact expression sat at the head. She waved us to sit down to her left.

“Good morning, Madam Marchbanks,” Daddy said congenially. “You’re looking well.”

“Morning, Cygnus,” she replied. “Yes, I’m healthy, and my family’s healthy, and you’re healthy, and your family’s healthy, and the weather is lovely, and we’re all looking forward to summer travel. Have I forgotten anything? The state of the roads?”

Daddy gave her a friendly smile. “I’m glad to see the Fountain of Magical Brethren restoration went so smoothly.”

“We’re all thrilled,” she said. She did not sound thrilled.

More people came in. Madam Marchbanks had the head of the table and Professor Dippet had the foot, but there didn’t seem to be any pattern for the others’ placements. The twelve school governors, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Kettleburn, Madam Pomfrey, and four of Madam Marchbanks’ colleagues on the Wizengamot joined us at the table. A short, squat young woman with hideous pink robes and a bow on her headband sat at the back of the room with a clipboard and quill.

Hagrid was the last to join us. He must have swallowed a bottle of Skele-Grow as a child or something. He’s too tall and much too heavy for the chairs. Professor Dumbledore conjured a low, sturdy stool for him, and he sat near the foot of the table.

Madam Marchbanks began by asking if everyone had had a chance to review the written statements submitted by the witnesses. All nodded. She had Pink Robes read them out loud in a saccharine, girly treble. Daddy let me follow along with his copies of the statements submitted by Ganymede, Sylvia, Valeria, Millicent, Adrienne, and that Mavis girl.

“How come there weren’t one from Danielle Bagman?” Hagrid asked.

“I was wondering that, too,” a ministry wizard with pinstripe robes said, flipping through his stack of documents. “Miss Bagman is mentioned in each of these statements. She’s an important figure in this incident, but her voice isn’t represented at this hearing.”

Professor Dippet wheezed. “Miss Bagman… declined to enter a statement… and her… parents…” He coughed. We waited. “Her parents… chose not… to compel her.” He waved his wand and a glass of water appeared on the table before him. He sipped slowly.

“You should’ve got one from Aragog, too,” Hagrid whined.

“Aragog?” Pinstripe asked.

Professor Kettleburn answered in a scathing tone, “The acromantula.”

Pink Robes cleared her throat in a squeaky “hem-hem.” For a moment, everyone else was silent.

“I could’ve writ it down for ’im,” Hagrid said.

Pinstripe and many of the others looked disgusted.

Madam Marchbanks was unfazed. “Wizengamot procedure for disciplinary hearings relies solely on voluntary testimony. Underaged witches and wizards and nonhuman creatures are considered incapable of legal consent without their parents’ or owners’ permission.”

“Aragog’d have my permission,” Hagrid said.

“Are you saying you own the acromantula?” Professor Kettleburn asked. “I doubt the spider would like to hear you talk that way.”

“Well, no,” Hagrid equivocated. “We’re friends, see. I sor’ of raised ’im. ’E was no bigger than a Pekingese when ’e hatched.”

“Moving on,” Marchbanks said in a brisk but not impolite way. “Five statements from eyewitnesses have built a consistent narrative, and the sixth does not refute that narrative. Next, we will hear from the witnesses present. Miss Black?”

I launched into the story. Before I got to the point where we crossed the lawn to hunt the harpy, Dumbledore politely interrupted.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Black. I know you were aware that William Cole had confessed to attacking you. How is it you still believed in the existence of a harpy?”

“I know Cole said he attacked Sylvia and me, back on Valentine’s Day,” I responded. “But everyone was talking about a violent harpy in the Forbidden Forest, anyway. It was making us scared to even go to the greenhouses for Herbology class.”

Dumbledore looked skeptical. I ignored him. I made the rest of the story convincing. That wandless charm to make me look like I’m really crying came in handy when I got to the part where we “thought we saw the harpy” and one girl’s mirror shield charm reflected two other girls’ stunners.

“I don’t even know whose spell hit whom,” I said, dabbing at tears. “Then when that giant spider came, I was so afraid! Adrienne ran. I thought maybe it bit her. Thank goodness I was wrong.

“The spider came closer. I didn’t even think. Sylvia and Danielle were so vulnerable. I almost froze. But Millicent was there, too, and somehow, that made me feel braver. We tried to fend the spider off together.

“Millicent went down somehow. The spider came for me. I…” I sobbed and intensified my crying-charm. “I panicked. I ran for safety. I’m so, so glad my friends are all right. I should have stayed! I should have let it eat me, rather than abandon them! No matter what happens here, today, I have to live all my life with the image of three friends unconscious in the forest floor, with the dirty great spider and him—” I pointed at Hagrid, “—Looming over them!”

I threw my arms on the table and sobbed into them. Daddy rubbed my back in a soothing way.

After a moment, Hagrid broke the silence. “Well that just ain’t how it happened.”

I sobbed harder.

“It’s all right, sweetheart.” I’d never heard Mother display so much tenderness. “He just meant that he saw things differently than you did.”

I looked up at her. I quivered my bottom lip. The charm continued to make tears slide down from my reddened eyes.

Hagrid scoffed. “All’s I’m sayin’ is, she saw things differently than she says she saw them. I heard someone callin’ out for ’elp. I saw the red flash of a stunnin’ spell. Then we had a calm little chat, and Aragog said ’e witnessed Bellatrix attackin’ Sylvia back in the winter. That’s when Bellatrix started castin’ Stupefy and Bombarda.”

I shook my head, the picture of disbelief and indignation. I realized Dumbledore was giving me another one of his invasive, impertinent stares. I cleared my mind of all but the image of Aragog knocking Millicent down.

“Besides,” Hagrid pointed out. “She’s got a record. She’s ’ad all sorts of trouble this year, with detentions and restricted readin’ and attackin’ Sylvia.”

“Hagrid,” Dumbledore said in gentle reprimand. “Miss Black is only here for the incident on the thirtieth of April.”

“The events of the fourteenth and twenty-fifth of February were resolved,” Marchbanks said with a hint of anger. “I heard the perpetrator’s confession myself, before that terrible tragedy.” A moment passed in respectful silence. “Let’s get back to the topic at hand: Miss Black’s behavior in the Forbidden Forest on the thirtieth of April. Dolores, could you read back your notes on what Hagrid said so far?”

Pink Robes cleared her throat with another self-important “hem-hem,” and read back Hagrid’s testimony. She carefully emphasized every word where her pronunciation differed from Hagrid’s West Country dialect.

“Do you have anything to add?” Marchbanks asked Hagrid.

He considered for a moment. “That’s almost all of it,” he said. “Bellatrix attacked first. It was her stunnin’ spell that got that Millicent girl. I think that was an accident, though. Then she ran for it. And then Ganymede came runnin’ over towards us. She didn’t panic about Aragog. She knew ’e wasn’t goin’ to eat anybody. Ganymede set Sylvia and Millicent to rights sharpish, and I picked up Danielle, and we all went up to Madam Pomfrey. Except Aragog.”

Pink Robes jotted down what Hagrid said.

“Very well,” Marchbanks said. “Madam Pomfrey?”

The school matron described Danielle’s injuries from falling. She explained that all three of her patients had clearly been Stunned.

“Did you check for signs of any other spell damage?” Dumbledore asked.

Madam Pomfrey blinked at him. “I had no reason to,” she answered. “Miss Reid and Miss Mitchell told me that Miss Bagman had fallen down, and that all three of them had been accidentally stunned. Miss Bagman said nothing to the contrary.”

“Miss Reid didn’t seem Confunded to you?” Dumbledore asked.

This gave Madam Pomfrey pause. “I didn’t notice any such symptoms, and she didn’t complain of any for me to look for.”

“So, it’s possible,” Dumbledore said.

“Yes,” Daddy said with an impish smile; “all sorts of wild speculations are possible.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore agreed. “We wouldn’t want to try to prove the negative. I did think it was worth asking, though. As is this: Madam Pomfrey, can you explain why Miss Bagman has chosen to remain in the Hospital Wing, despite her apparent good health?”

“She never left?” Pinstripe asked.

“Not once,” Dumbledore said.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head slowly. “I can speculate,” she said, “But I’m not sure if my guess is even relevant. I’ve seen rather a lot of Miss Bagman this year. Every school year brings a few fifth and seventh year students to me with some frequency. Examinations are a significant source of stress, and some people very naturally need a little help coping.”

Here, Adrienne’s father gave a good-natured chuckle. “I remember my OWL year at Hogwarts. The essays alone!” Several of the school governors and most of the ministry workers nodded, smiled, or chuckled.

“Thank you, Mr Chester,” Marchbanks said dismissively. “Madam Pomfrey, do you have anything to add?”

Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

“Thank you,” Marchbanks said. “Professor Kettleburn?”

The Care of Magical Creatures teacher didn’t have much to contribute. He described Adrienne’s fear and Valeria’s resulting concern. He ended with, “Acromantulas are impressive creatures. Beautiful, in their own way, and almost as intelligent as humans. I can see why Hagrid is so enamored of his spider friend. But, it is not a suitable companion for anyone who works or lives around children. Fear is the appropriate response to seeing one walk towards you. Miss Chester was perfectly justified in running away. Miss Mitchell, Miss Black, and Miss Greengrass showed extraordinary bravery for tolerating its presence as long as they did. I’ve already awarded Slytherin ten points apiece for Miss Mitchell and Miss Greengrass. I’ll do the same for Miss Black, when the charges are cleared and she’s allowed to return to school.”

I gave him a teary, hopeful smile.

Pink Robes scribbled away on her clipboard.

“Well, unless there is any more relevant information to address…?” Marchbanks asked the room.

“Actually,” Dumbledore said, “I’d like to invoke the Search and Seizure clause of Amendment Four to the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery.”

Abraxas Malfoy waved a hand dismissively. “The Restriction of Underage Sorcery only applies when children aren’t in school.”

“The Forbidden Forest is near Hogwarts Castle,” Dumbledore clarified. “Hogwarts administration has rights of maintenance and usufruct of the property, as does the local centaur herd and numerous other magical creatures. However, the forest does not count as part of the school grounds.”

“Dumbledore’s right,” Mother said in a reasonable tone. “And we offer no objections. Hand over your wand, sweetheart.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. “But…”

Daddy patted my back again. “You’ll get it back, Bella.”

I handed it to Daddy, who passed it to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore held the tip of his own wand to the tip of mine and cast, “Prior Incantato.”

A golden line appeared between the two wands. Then a small, ghostly image of the bed at the Hog’s Head, getting cleaned by Tergeo. That happened a few times. A miniature, faint explosion followed, then the red echoes of a few stunning spells. I felt like I was about to vomit. My wand was regurgitating echoes of the spells it had cast in reverse order, so it seemed inevitable that my use of Unforgivable Curses would be revealed.

Then, my wand produced an echo of a mirror shield charm.

I hadn’t cast the mirror shield charm in the Forbidden Forest!

The reverse spell continued. My wand produced echoes of lighting up with Lumos, then the spells I had practiced in Arithmancy on the thirtieth of April, then the spells from the class before that, a spell to style hair, and more classwork.

My heart soared with triumph. I kept my face as still as a statue—just like Mother.

Dumbledore released my wand and vanished the spell-echoes he had caused. “Thank you very much, Miss Black,” he said, handing the wand back to me. “If you ever find yourself in a Hog’s Head bedroom again, I recommend Tergeo Maxima.”

“Thanks, Professor.” Maybe I smiled a bit.

Marchbanks turned to Pink Robes. “Got all that?”

“Almost,” Pink Robes trilled in her high-pitched voice. “What was that hair styling charm?”

“Capillus Colligationem,” I answered.

“Of course,” Pink Robes said, writing.

“Are we ready for a vote?” Pinstripe asked the room at large. Some nodded. None objected. “At your leisure, Madam Marchbanks,” he said.

“Thank you, Cornelius,” she said dryly. “Those in favor of pursuing criminal charges against Bellatrix Black for her attack on Rubeus Hagrid?”

“And on Aragog,” Hagrid said, raising his hand.

“We don’t get a vote, Hagrid,” Dumbledore said patiently. “Only the school governors, Professor Dippet, and the Committee for the Assessment of Underage Sorcery do.”

Hagrid lowered his hand. No one else raised theirs.

“Those in favor of expelling Bellatrix Black for breaking the Reasonable Restriction of Underaged Sorcery, in the Hog’s Head and the Forbidden Forest?”

No one raised their hands.

“Those in favor of clearing Bellatrix Black of all charges?”

Ten of the school governors and all of the ministry workers raised their hands, even Marchbanks.

“That’s a majority,” Marchbanks said. “Cleared of all charges.”

I had to bite my tongue hard to stop from cheering and laughing with glee. I tasted a little blood. It reminded me of Lord Voldemort and the Amortentia he had me smell.

One school governor who had voted in my favor left immediately without another word. That must have been Figg. Hagrid muttered angrily to Dumbledore, who told him something I couldn’t hear. Professor Dippet was asleep in his chair.

Amongst everyone else, there was a general friendly chatter. Pinstripe flirted with Pink Robes. Marchbanks and a few of her colleagues talked about how they all thought the elimination of lice and bedbugs from a mattress counted as “self defense‍.” Hogwarts governors, ministry workers, and my parents took a few minutes to exchange pleasantries.

When we finally made it to the corridor, Eugenia Jenkins happened to be walking by. “Morning, Mrs Black, Mr Black,” she said respectfully. Pinstripe joined her and they walked off, talking together.

Mother kept up a show of affection and pride as we made our way back to the Atrium. In the red Muggle communications box lift, she let go of my arm.

“How—?” But the look on Mother’s face told me not to finish my question.

Back in the street of Muggle London, Mother disappeared with a slight pop.

“I’ll bring you back,” Daddy said. He put his arm around my shoulder and apparated is both to Hogsmeade Station.

The platform was abandoned. I was struck by how many flowers had bloomed since I saw it on Wednesday. Or maybe I just hadn’t been in the right mood to appreciate springtime beauty then.

“Blinker will bring your bag and such up,” Daddy told me.

“My wand, Daddy. Why didn’t Prior Incantatem reveal—?”

Daddy hushed me. “Your mother and I have had your wand for a week, Bella,” he reminded me. “Grandfather Rosier told us that they could legally use Prior Incantatem to show up to the last ten times the second digit of the age of the student in question. We used it to reveal the last sixty-one acceptable spells you’d cast, carefully noting each one in order. Then your mother used your wand to cast all those spells again, recreating the record of your usage, without the Cruciatus or Imperius Curses.”

“Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“It was a lot of work,” Daddy agreed. “I told you in February, Bella: we would do anything for our daughters. We love you.”

I remembered the look on Mother’s face as she strangled me last week. Then, the composed expression she had when she steepled her fingers and advised me to keep dating Crabbe in December.

Daddy hugged me.

“I love you, too,” I told him.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you to the gate.”

Birds sang in the afternoon sunshine as we made our way up the road from Hogsmeade to the castle. We didn’t talk much. Daddy knew he didn’t have to reprimand or warn me. I’ve already decided to be on my best behavior for the rest of the school year.

Cissy and Andie met us at the gate. They hugged Daddy and me, and Daddy gave us all a fond farewell.

“Blinker already delivered your things to your room,” Cissy said, taking my hand. “Sylvia saw her and let us know. I’m so glad you’re back.”

“I am, too,” I told her. Then I looked at Andie. “I suppose you want to tell me you told me so?”

Andie shook her head. “I’m just relieved you’re okay. I heard what Adrienne said about the acromantula attack. It sounded so scary!” She hugged me again. I gave her an affectionate squeeze.

We walked back to the Slytherin common room together, and my housemates swarmed me. “You’re back!” “So glad the charges were dropped. It was clearly self-defense!” “Blimey, all the worst stuff happened to you this year.” “Good to see you, Bellatrix!”

I had my hand shaken and my back patted more times than I could count.

The crowd parted a little to let the other fifth year girls through. Sylvia threw her arms around me. “I was so worried about you!” she said, a tear escaping down one cheek.

“Me?” I asked. “I was worried about you. It was so scary, seeing that stunner bounce back at you!” Then I shook Millicent’s hand heartily. “Millie, you really came through for all of us out there. Adrienne!” I squeezed Adrienne’s shoulder. “I thought that spider had bitten you or something. So glad you’re not hurt.”

“You were so brave, to stay and fight it,” Adrienne told me.

“Welcome back, Bellatrix,” Valeria said with an arch smile.

“Always good to see my friends,” I said, shaking her hand.

Ganymede only smirked. I hugged her and murmured, low enough for only her to hear: “I owe you a debt. I will not forget it.”

Ganymede returned the embrace. “So glad you’re here,” she said.

Slytherin House was a merry, chattering crowd all the way to the Great Hall, through supper (during which Professor Kettleburn awarded my ten points), back to our common room, and into the night. Again and again, people asked my friends and me to repeat our stories of danger and heroism. Again and again, they abused the half-wit gamekeeper for endangering students and trying to get me in trouble.

The pressure was on. I got out of that scrape without any help from the Death Eaters, and now Lord Voldemort will be so impressed with me, he’ll teach me Legilimency. I can’t wait for him to come back!

***11 May 1968, Hogwarts***

There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort.

There was still a loose end, so I went up to the Hospital Wing very early this morning. Danielle was already awake—or perhaps still awake. She was sitting on a wooden chair by a window, with her forehead pressed against the glass. She had been alone before my arrival, but she didn’t turn around at the sound of the door or my footsteps.

I started with, “Wow. Your new haircut looks great.”

She shuddered at the sound of my voice. She turned and looked at me nervously.

“Hi,” I said. “Mind if I sit down?”

She didn’t respond. I pulled a chair up and sat about four feet away from her.

“I heard your wrists are all better. That’s a relief,” I said.

“Bellatrix,” Danielle said flatly. “I can’t play games with you right now. I just can’t. I don’t have it in me. I’ve had a hell of a year.” She looked upwards in an attempt to ward off tears. “I really might be going mad. I’ve swung like a pendulum, back and forth, between hopelessness and terror. I can’t even remember all of this year. It’s like my brain just refuses to hold on to all the bad stuff.”

I kept silent. She needed to talk.

“Some of it is bad stuff you did to me,” she said. She sounded tired and matter-of-fact. “Some of it is nobody’s fault. Some of it… was just a weird kind of waking nightmare. And I did some bad stuff too.” She looked at me. Her eyes were slightly red and glassy, but she wasn’t crying. “I’m done fighting against you.”

Danielle went back to looking out the window.

“I’m done, too,” I told her. “You tried to make peace with me earlier. I wasn’t receptive to it. That’s my loss. I missed out on your friendship.”

She gave me a skeptical look.

“And it wasn’t just this year,” I pressed on. “I recently remembered how we met. Our first ever ride on the Hogwarts Express. I had a compartment with Millicent Mitchell and Ganymede Greengrass, and I was so nervous about meeting a whole castle full of new classmates and teachers and ghosts. You asked to sit with us, and I shut you out.”

Her lip quivered.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry I spent five years bickering with you when I could have gotten to like you. I’m sorry I cast the Incontinence Jinx on you in September. I’m sorry that the first time we ever chose to do something together, you got hurt.”

She swallowed. She kept her tears in check. As loathsome as she is, I can’t deny that she exhibited noteworthy self-control.

“I was thinking,” I said. “The eighteenth is our next Hogsmeade day, but maybe the nineteenth, I’d try to arrange another little spa day. Would…” I hesitated for dramatic effect. “Would you be willing to join me? It isn’t much. Just manicures and face masques and gossip. But, it’s fun.”

Danielle’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t need an answer right now,” I told her. “Just, consider it. Please.” I allowed a moment to pass in silence. “I’ll get out of your stylish hair,” I said, rising. “I hope you feel better soon.”

She was back at the Gryffindor table during lunch. For one brief moment, our eyes met. I gave her a hopeful smile. She replied with a solemn nod.

***14 May 1968, Cape Sarichef Light***

Bella,

Looks like you’ve been lucky. I hope you retain the lessons of this whole experience.

Unimak Island is extraordinarily beautiful. The air is clear. The Bering Sea is full of gigantic, dangerous beasts. I’d hate to be here in the winter, but right now the world is full of birdsong and blooming flowers.

We’ve got no idea where or with whom the Dark Lord has been spending his days. Avery and I suspect there’s a wise old hermit teaching him secret arts. Mulciber insists the Dark Lord is exploring the ancient ruins of a long-forgotten wizarding civilization.

This place is so remote, it feels like anything is possible.

All the best, Markleton

***16 May 1968, Hogwarts***

There is a perfect wizard and his name is Lord Voldemort.

I’ve been toeing the line. I’m up to date on homework. Back to prefect duties. Studying for my OWL’s.

Danielle resigned from her prefect post. Dumbledore replaced her with Margaret Spelling. Danielle’s just been focusing on getting up to date on her homework.

I’ve even helped her with Arithmancy.

She’s no genius. But when she talks about something other than inane gossip, she isn’t hopelessly stupid.

***19 May 1968, Hogwarts***

There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort.

I didn’t go in to Hogsmeade yesterday. Stayed in and studied.

Today’s spa day went well. Danielle did come. When the conversation turned to boys, Danielle said she hasn’t gone steady with anyone since she ditched the muggle-born boy. Adrienne pointed out that her boyfriend Michael has a halfblood friend, Walter Woodhouse, who doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“We could double date!” Adrienne said. “Have you been to Madam Puddifoot’s?”

Danielle liked the idea.

***28 May 1968, Hogwarts***

There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort.

Dumbledore keeps pairing Danielle and me together for Transfiguration classwork. But, she’s been much less annoying, now that she thinks we’re friends.

It’s been a while since my last letter from Markleton. I can only suppose they’re all still out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by bears and seabirds. I wonder what Lord Voldemort is learning out there.

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This work of fanfiction was based on characters and settings created by JK Rowling for her Harry Potter series. I'd like to note that my fair use of this popularly known source material does not in any way represent an endorsement of Rowling's harmful public statements against the validity of trans identities. Please consider supporting the National Center for Transgender Equality at https://transequality.org/