Shades of Silver and Black

BACK IN BRITAIN, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had released its students from the burdens of school-work for the winter holidays. But Lyra had graduated and was now working in a distant foreign land. Here, in Peru, it was summer with a wet atmosphere, which didn't quite feel like Yule yet.

Lucius' expedition got extended due to the discovery of an ancient object whose name that Lyra had already forgotten but her father had squealed about in his letter— the first letter she had received from him which contained a semblance of emotions— and since she had promised to wait for him so they could travel together, Lyra could only go back to England on the 24th, leaving less time to spend with her siblings.

For all the wonderful opportunities and beautiful memories that she was blessed with, Lyra occasionally felt that the dire price out-weighed the pros; and her family's —bar Sirius and James— dry as chalkboard letters were not helping to brighten up the dampened mood she had been feeling lately.

Lyra had wished to be a healer for as long as she could remember. Not a politician or lawyer like her grandfathers, not a dueller or herbologist like her grandmothers, not a historian like her father, not an arithmetician like her mother, not a ward master, fashionista or potion mistress like her aunts, not a curse-breaker or ministry official like her uncles. Initially, she had wanted to be a healer for the sole reason that no-one else in her family was. She craved to be something that no-one could constantly compare her to. She yearned for an identity of her own, free from the legacies of her ancestors.

Gradually, Lyra had begun to see the loveliness of the art of healing— how useful it could be to bring back someone from the clutches of Death, to make wounds disappear into thin air, to protect those you love— and that was when her decision had been solidified.

However, despite all the research she had done and people she had consulted, there was nothing that could have prepared her for the mental toll the work took if one didn't completely detach themselves and portray indifference to the patients.

Each death, each fatality affected her— worse was when she had to deliver the tragic news to their loved ones. Sometimes, she would receive a patient who reminded her so much of her siblings, parents or friends that learning that they had a virulent strain of an illness seemed to chip away a layer of her because all she could imagine was what if it had been them. What if it had been one of her loved ones on that white hospital bed and she had to watch them wither away knowing she couldn't change their fate; Lyra loathed that feeling. She loathed that powerlessness.

When Lyra returned from work that day to the empty cottage, she felt relieved to get away from the atmosphere of potion scents and death which would occasionally overwhelm her.

Unfortunately, the peace of the cottage lasted for only a minute before the fire-place was engulfed with flames, alerting Lyra that someone was floo'ing in. She watched as the ash-coated form of a person became visible, recognising the familiar face of her cousin.

"Merlin, I hate the floo." Was the first thing Bellatrix stated, lips twisted into a scowl, as she stepped out of the fire-place.

Lyra's visage instantly brightened. "Bella!" She exclaimed cheerfully, rushing to pull her cousin into a hug.

"Wotcher, Lyra," Bellatrix greeted, wrapping her arms around Lyra to receive the hug. A jolt of pain coursed through her that moment. "Ow!"

Lyra instantly broke the hug, taking a step back at Bellatrix's exclamation to examine her. It was then that she noticed the state her cousin was in.

Her curly hair was wilder than usual, occupying a larger volume. It looked messy and a thin layer of dust seemed to be settled on it, giving it a shade of silver between the blacks. Violet bags hung under Bellatrix's eyes, alerting her to sleepless nights, while bloodstains were splattered on her deep green, form-fitting dress.

Her shoulder looked displaced while her arm was without a doubt broken. Lyra looked horrified by the amount of blood that drenched the bottom-half of Bellatrix's dress and left a trail of red droplets as she walked.

Bellatrix faintly smiled. "Do you think you can heal me quickly?"

Wordlessly, Lyra crouched down, lifting the hem of Bellatrix's skirt only to gasp as she spotted the deep, purple and orange gashes that formed pretty grids on her legs. She raised her chin upwards to meet Bellatrix's eyes. "What kind of curses were you hit with?"

"You know..." Bellatrix nonchalantly started instead. "For being all 'light', Gideon uses some pretty dark spells."

"Wait, Gideon did this? Our cousin, Gideon?"

"Of course. Do you know any other Gideon?"

"...Why would he do this to you?"

Bellatrix's lips twisted into a sneer. "Because he's a filthy blood-traitor, that's why! Instead of joining the Dark Lord like a proper pureblood, he ran off to the Auror corps. Apparently, being family means nothing to him if there are some muggle children around." She grumbled. "I wasn't even hurting them that much. Not more than they deserved, anyway, for tainting our world with their impurity. But noooo, Gideon had to duel me. Stupid Gideon. I hope he dies. I hope he dies by my hand." A glimmer of insanity burned brightly in Bellatrix's eyes.

There were many things that Lyra wanted to tell Bellatrix, none of them particularly kind, but the healer in her caused her to say aloud, "I need to get you to the hospital." She stood up determinedly, thanking the stars that her bout of laziness had caused her to not change out of her healer robes. Linking her arm with Bellatrix's, she informed her, "I'll apparate us and get you a private room."

"Wait!" Bellatrix managed to wheeze out, light-headedness consuming her due to blood loss. "The whole reason I came to you was because I didn't want to go to the hospital."

"You shouldn't have gotten yourself so seriously injured because now, all I can bring myself to say is too bad. Hold on tight," Lyra commanded and the next moment, they were inside the hospital Lyra worked at in Peru.

A few minutes later, when Bellatrix had been tucked into a hospital bed in her own private room and Lyra had managed to stop blood from seeping out of her wounds, applying charms to stabilize her, pop back her shoulder and fix her arm; Bellatrix sighed, making Lyra glance at her questioningly.

Bellatrix's voice was low as she replied, "No-one can know I am here."

Lyra blinked. "But you aren't here. Lucius is. He got hit by an ancient curse at the excavation site, you see, and so, he is currently being treated for it."

Bellatrix's lips piqued upwards. "I'll send Lucius a fruit basket and a get-well-soon card then."

"Make sure not to include apples. He has a strange aversion to it."

"Noted." Bellatrix intoned.

Lyra continued waving her wand over Bellatrix's form. When she was done, Lyra left the room for a moment, returning with a pink-orange potion and thrusting it towards Bellatrix.

"Here. Drink this. Fair warning, it'll taste like piss. At least, according to the healing book I read and the valuable insights provided by some of our patients."

"Good to know." Bellatrix accepted it, holding it in a toasting manner. "Let's do this." She gulped down all the contents in one go.

Lyra watched with merriment as Bellatrix nearly spat it out with wide eyes. "You need to swallow it," she sang cheerfully.

Bellatrix tossed her a glare but difficulty managed to swallow it. "I've never tasted piss but this indeed tastes like how I would imagine it to be."

Lyra threw her head back in a laugh, taking the empty vial from Bellatrix and keeping it on the side-table for one of the nurses to dispose of later on. "It tastes bad, but it works the best. You'll be healed by tomorrow morning."

"Can't it be done sooner?" Bellatrix asked, even as she sank comfortably into the bed, now laying on her back.

Lyra shook her head. "Not unless you allow me to amputate your legs and replace them with wooden studs."

"No thank you on that offer."

"Then wait until tomorrow morning," Lyra chirped, putting her hands into the pockets of her grey, healer robes. "Take rest. I'll check on your state every now and then. You'll be alright, Bella. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried."

"I know you're not worried. I was telling that last bit to myself."

"Oh," Bellatrix stated, half-smiling. "Don't worry then. I'll be alright."

Lyra smiled. "I know." A disturbing look fleeted through her pretty face, and Bellatrix noticed it.

Knitting her brows together, Bellatrix asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Came Lyra's instantaneous, practised reply.

"You're lying," Bellatrix sang, although her eyes shined with concern. "What's wrong, Lyra?"

Lyra smiled tightly. "Nothing that matters, Bella."

"It matters to me. Tell me." Bellatrix demanded.

A sigh escaped Lyra's lips as she sat down on the chair beside Bellatrix's bed. "It's just— It concerns me that— Honestly, I don't know. When we were little, we used to joke about our family feuds and the infamous amount of fights that used to occur between us cousins. It's scary to think that now, it's all happening for real, and it's serious and deathly. Gideon and Fabian became Aurors and I'm so proud of them. You became a Death Eater. You're on opposite sides of a war, our family has split, our opinions are divided and now, you were about to die from blood loss. I don't know what to think."

"Gideon and Fabian are blinded by the light. They are being played like a puppet and they don't care. They've chosen incorrectly and so, they deserve to pay the price for that error. Don't feel sad for them," Bellatrix told her.

"But I don't feel sad for them," Lyra quipped quietly. "I feel sad for you."

Bellatrix looked gobsmacked. "Me?"

"Yes. You are wearing masks and attacking people in their homes. You're provoking violence in the name of peace. There are other methods to start a revolution and you haven't considered any of them. You've changed, Bella. Or perhaps you were always like this and I never noticed. Either way, I'm immensely concerned."

"I haven't changed," Bellatrix insisted coolly.

The crease between Lyra's brows deepened. "You used to regularly preach that Blacks bow down to no-one. Whatever happened to that, I wonder, now that you are kissing the feet of people."

"I kiss the feet of the Dark Lord. Besides, you bow before Lady Hecate, don't you? It's the same thing." Was Bellatrix's retort.

Lyra's eyes turned to slits. "Oh, so now you're god-alising him? Putting him on the same pedestal as the great goddess who literally gave us magic? What the fuck Bellatrix?"

"One day," Bellatrix declared, ignoring her cousin's tone. "You should spend one day with the Dark Lord— he'll be a god in your eyes as well, I guarantee it."

"I disagree. He'll always be a villain in mine. He's mad, Bella."

"What you call madness, I call genius. There's not much difference anyway."

"But there is. There is a very thin line that differentiates the two, but it's there. The Dark Lord that you worship is the same that is prompting genocide! I'm all about pureblood superiority, Bella, but there are ways to go about it. Ways that do not involve wars!"

"Wars are required for strong purposes, Lyra, don't be naïve," Bellatrix hissed. "You say that you support pureblood superiority and yet, here you are, having the audacity to speak such ugly lies about the one person who is actually trying to permanently implement it instead of standing behind him!"

Lyra stared at her. Then, she shook her head. "It's clear, now, that you are a Lestrange. I wonder if all the Black blood evaporated and got replaced by that of the cowardly Lestranges the moment you said your vows. What happened to the Bellatrix I know?"

"She died when she realised that her sister was a blood-traitor!" Bellatrix growled. "Do you know what I had to go through when Andy got married to that muggle? All the torment-inducing words that I had to tolerate? The Dark Lord gave me a chance to prove my loyalty, gain back power, and I am ever-so-grateful to him for that— for being there for me when nobody else was."

"You think you were the only one who had to go through that? We all faced hatred due to Andromeda's actions but at least she's happy, and that isn't a crime."

"You know nothing!" Bellatrix roared. "All you did was support Andy the entire time without understanding the consequences that the rest of us had to undergo. None of my so-called friends talked to me, people pretended that we weren't acquaintances and everywhere I went, the reputation of being the sister-in-law of a muggle followed me in whispers because they didn't have the courage to say it to my face! All the words that people spat, they had the nerve to even call me a filthy blood-traitor. But not you. Never you. Nobody would dare call perfect Lyra anything but fucking perfect."

"They did, Bella, believe it or not," Lyra snapped sharply. "They did. They hurled insults, I lost many friends and even more respect due to Andromeda's decision but unlike you, I got over my problems and realised how happy Andromeda is— something I doubt you bothered to do! I'm sorry you had it bad, but that doesn't mean the rest of us had it easy. It just means that we are better at concealing it."

"Well, congratulations on being an excellent actress then, Lyra! If only you were half as good as a cousin."

Lyra looked like she had been slapped.

But Bellatrix wasn't done berating her yet. "And you have the audacity to call the House of Lestrange cowardly? Those are bold words from the girl who runs away from all her problems thinking that if she'll avoid them long enough, they'd disappear. Well, news flash, they don't. We are the ones who are stuck dealing with them. We are the ones dumped with the baggage of solving them. You ran away and left us to the wolves, Lyra, so don't you dare call me cowardly for bowing to a saviour when you abandoned us to rot and condemned us to insults by pieces of filth! At least, I am fighting for something I believe in. At least, I am making a difference. At least, at the very least, I am staying rooted and defending my beliefs instead of running away as soon as things get a little bad. What do you have to say to that, oh-so-perfect Lyra?" Bellatrix mocked.

Lyra was silent. Just when Bellatrix was about to repeat her question, Lyra answered, inhaling a sharp breath. "You're right. I am a coward. I never claimed to be brave, that title belongs to the Gryffindors. I am a Slytherin and thus, I value self-preservation. You're correct, I did —I am— running away from my problems with the hope that you'll solve them before I return with the futile dream that everything will go back to normal again, and we can be little kids who still believe that the world is ours to rule."

Lyra humorlessly laughed, lips twisting into a sneer. "I am a coward. A huge one. But at least, I'm not a vessel for someone else to control, use and dispose of. At least I haven't sold myself to someone who isn't even fighting, just giving instructions. At least I'm not the one who believes that I can fight a war in which the opponents might even be my family— the ones I've grown up with— and kill them without bringing damage to my psychological state. Yes, I'm a coward, Bella, but you're the naïve one. You glorify war and that is fucking stupid."

"I do not glorify war," Bellatrix gritted out through clenched teeth. "I see it for what it is. It's you who are frightened regarding it to the point where you delude yourself into making it much bigger than it actually is."

Rage filled her lungs like sea-water and suddenly, she was drowning in it.

"Oh, do I now? Let's compare our views then, shall we?" Lyra arched a perfectly dark brow, scorn visible in her voice. "You think that war is merely a means to achieve your goal quicker. You think it's all about the glory, the hymns, the honour— and your overwhelming need to defend it over your own life. War, for you, is superficial. Me, on the other hand? I synonymise war to death; to loss. You might lose your fucking life, Bella, and that —you— are more important to me than projecting propaganda. If you'd only paid attention to whenever Uncle Charlus or Grandfather Arcturus spoke, you'd understand what I'm trying to convey. Yes, war heroes are idealised— history is written by the victors, after all, but do not for a moment forget about the sea of graves that it subsequently brought on. Do not forget about all those families who lost a person and to this day don't know if they are dead or alive. Do not forget how disfigured the Aurors and the common folk who got caught in the middle became because that kind of mental damage is drowning heavy."

Lyra closed her eyes and inhaled another breath, exhaling it slowly in an effort to calm herself and keep her voice steady. When she reopened them, a fire burnt. "Remember that fighting for something you believe in sounds all fun and nice on paper but it's harder when you actually do it." Then, she spoke in terms that Lyra hoped Bellatrix would understand. "Is spilling pure blood —your pure blood— over muggle filth really worth it? There are other ways to insert dominance— ways that we will surely be victorious in like by passing laws and such— not in a war where it's a metaphorical coin toss played by Lady Victoria and Lady Fortuna." Her eyes softened as she said quietly, "I— I don't want to bury a body with missing limbs and a face I don't recognise, Bella, if we even find a body, that is. Please reconsider. Please be careful, for my sake at least."

Bellatrix was silent for the longest time. When Lyra had begun to fume the flames of hope, her cousin drenched it with a simple declaration of two words. "You're overreacting."

Lyra felt all the air in her lungs leave her.

Bellatrix turned on the bed to face the other wall and give Lyra her back. "Because you are family and I love you, I'm going to do you a favour and forget this conversation ever took place. For your sake, don't bring it up." Despite her words, they both knew that something unexplainable had changed between them.

Lyra pressed her lips into a thin line as her face hardened. She stood up from the chair and produced her wand, applying a non-verbal tempus. Seeing as twenty minutes had passed, she announced coolly, "The potion is going to take effect now. It's better if you sleep now. I'll check up on you every one hour. Let me know then if you feel any stinging sensation or any discomfort. One of the nurses will bring you lunch in a little while and in the evening, I'll give you the second dose." She spun on her heel and left the room when she saw Bellatrix slightly nod in acknowledgement to her words, shutting the door behind her.

Since she was already present at the hospital, Lyra took up more patients to keep herself busy. Mostly because being busy would mean that she wouldn't have to be left alone to ponder about the earlier events.

Sometimes, she got this overwhelming pain that caused her to grab her head in distress but turned out to be nothing. Just thoughts, and yet, she's left hurting. Lyra wondered if this made her crazy, being overwhelmed by feeling nothing. A person spent their entire lives stuck with their own voice inside of their mind, and people expected them to not go insane?

As promised, Lyra checked up on her cousin every hour, asked her routine questions and nothing further before leaving, all the while avoiding her eyes. Similarly, Bellatrix had eaten the flavourless hospital lunch without any qualms, being uncharacteristically silent. Lyra had never been more awkward with Bellatrix than she did that day, feeling like a stranger had worn the disguise of her beloved cousin.

Dusk came sooner than expected, the last of the sun's rays cosseted behind soft grey clouds. The street took on the look of an old photograph, every familiar thing transforming into shades between silver and black. Slowly, the view faded to blackness and the night approached.

Lyra arrived at Bellatrix's room, holding the second dose of potion which she wordlessly placed on the night-stand. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her grey, healer robes, Lyra softly told Bellatrix, "There are four potions you'll have to drink in total. You've taken one till now, the second is this one." She gestured to the vial of potion she brought with her. "There will be another one in the morning before breakfast and one more in the night. This second one, in particular, requires you to do some sort of physical activity but at the same time, not to over-exert your current state before consuming it. So, I was thinking, the hospital grounds are absolutely lovely at night and so is the weather today. Go for a walk and be back in ten minutes. I'll ask a nurse to accompany you and I'll administer the potion after that."

Bellatrix didn't speak. But slowly, she jumped from the bed she had previously been sleeping on, rooting her feet to the cold, white, marble floors. With the pace of a bowtruckle, she began to walk to the door.

Lyra didn't help her, knowing from first-hand experience that Bellatrix wouldn't appreciate it. Bellatrix adored independence and detested showing weakness. Bellatrix halted below the archway abruptly. Before Lyra could ask if there was anything wrong, her cousin spoke so quietly, that she almost missed it.

"Will you accompany me to the walk instead?"

Lyra instantly smiled and strolled towards Bellatrix's form and linked their hands together in a manner where she could support Bellatrix's weight if she felt tired. That way, should anyone gaze upon them, they would think nothing odd and wouldn't be able to decipher that Bellatrix was actually injured, a sentiment that her curly-haired cousin appreciated. Wordlessly, they proceeded to walk out the door and towards the gardens, hearts already feeling lighter.

The thing about siblings —or growing up close enough to be siblings— was that despite spitting out a war of words one moment, they would non-verbally have already made up by the next. There was an invisible string that connected them and Lyra didn't think that any fight would be severe enough to break it off completely. Tighten it, yes; loosen it, also yes. Cause it to be worn out? Definitely. But never to cut it irreparably; at least, Lyra hoped so.

By the time they stepped onto the Hospital grounds, the daylight had dwindled to barely perceptible lighting of the gloom. The trees were crazy silhouettes against a newly silver sky, its blue hue almost gone until dawn. The branches swayed in the wind, creaking into the gusting air. The first sound of the nocturnal animals came, a hoot of an owl, a rabbit taking cover in the hedgerow.

There were a scattering of people on the lawn, some enjoying the fresh air, some wanting to escape the suffocating stench of decay that eloped the hospital at times while others, like them, were taking a stroll.

Lyra was supporting Bellatrix's weight as they walked around the property in sync'd steps. The first potion had taken a toll on her strength. Healing was hard. It was painful initially but the end result was worth it.

Ignoring the quietude between them, Lyra took the opportunity to glance around, smiling at nothing in particular while wondering how her family was doing. That was all she was capable of, now, anyway. Wondering, since they didn't write anything that mattered to her anymore, and hoping that everything was alright.

"I'm not apologetic about the words I said earlier," Bellatrix voiced abruptly, starling Lyra for a moment before she processed the confession.

Pursing her lips, Lyra admitted, "Neither am I." She paused, adding, "But I love you. I really do. I want to let you know that even if I disapprove or don't agree with your actions, I'll always have your back. I'll be there for you whenever you need me to patch up your injuries."

"And I'll kill anyone you say bothers you," Bellatrix said without missing a beat. In her own way, Bellatrix's statement screamed that she loved Lyra too, despite not saying those exact words.

Even Voldemort? Lyra yearned to ask but refrained from doing so. They had just patched up. She should give it at least a couple of hours before she triggered Bellatrix with her words again.

Instead, Lyra's smile reached the twinkle in her eyes as she inquired, "After handing in the three-day notice, I assume?"

"That goes without saying." Bellatrix grinned and just like that, everything was okay between them. Temporarily, at least.

When they returned to the hospital room, Lyra helped Bellatrix lie down on the bed again before allowing her to drink the second dose of the potion.

"A small warning, this potion is going to make you feel a little drowsy and very loopy," Lyra chimed.

Bellatrix shot her a look. "And you're telling me this after I finished drinking it?"

"Oops?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, adjusting her body to be more comfortable on the bed. "It can't be that bad, I'm sure."

Unfortunately, it was that bad.

Within two minutes, Bellatrix became a giggling mess. With one flushed cheek squished to the pillow and a large grin as she locked eyes with her amused cousin, carefully concealed secrets began to naturally spill from her lips.

Bellatrix motioned for Lyra to come closer, whispering with a giggle, "Reggie fancies Amal."

"Really?" Lyra's eyes shined as she prompted Bellatrix to speak more.

"Yes! That's not all. Uncle Alphard also got a boyfriend," Bellatrix sang.

"Who is it?"

"Someone from Bulgaria named Krum," Bellatrix stated conspiratory. "Sirius got ninety-seven detentions this term."

Lyra's eyes widened. "Wow."

"I know! He's so close to one-hundred, couldn't he have actually crossed it? Then, Great-Uncle Archie could have finally won a bet against Great-Aunt Mal." Bellatrix frowned for the span of a second before she brightened up again. "Did you know that Molly is pregnant?"

Lyra frowned her brows. "Didn't she give birth recently?"

"Yes, but she's gonna be fat again." Bellatrix chortled like it was the funniest thing ever. "And—" her voice lowered like she was telling a big secret— "Great Aunt Mal planned a surprise party for you."

Lyra's lips twitched upwards as warmth bloomed in her heart. "Oh?" For a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe that this surprise party was the reason everyone had been skittish around her. But soon, the logical side of her mind gripped her and the illusion shattered.

Bellatrix's eyes widened. "Don't tell anyone I told you that."

"I'll act surprised on that day," Lyra promised her reassuringly. "Anything else?

"The Slytherin Court is in ruins. Half the members created a mutiny and it is in the very last string of power," Bellatrix absentmindedly informed her.

Lyra froze.

Bellatrix resumed speaking, offhandedly informing her, "Also, you know the thing with Lady Avery? Your parents did that."

Lyra stiffly smiled. "Oh."

"I think Theo's going to die soon," Bellatrix declared out-of-the-blue. "Cissy returns from Hogwarts today, doesn't she? I'm sure she would have filed the notice."

"Wait, back up. Narcissa filed the notice? Why?"

"To kill Theo. Duh."

Bellatrix said it in a manner that suggested that it was common knowledge. However, it only deepened Lyra's confusion. "Why does Cissa want to kill Theo?"

"Because if she doesn't kill him first, he's gonna kill her. Merlin, Lyra! It's like you don't know anything, but don't worry. Big sister Bella is here to refresh your knowledge." Bellatrix coo'd.

Lyra forced a smile to appear on her face as she recognised then, the true extent that her family had succeeded in isolating her from them.

Thanks to the potion she had consumed, Bellatrix didn't seem to be concerned with the sombreness intertwining Lyra's face as her cousin expressed gratitude to the stars that Bellatrix would forget about all of this when she woke up the next morning.

Oblivious, Bellatrix resumed speaking, "And the Dark Lord asks me how you are every single day without fail. I'm tired of repeating my answers, but why is he so concerned about you?" A frown decorated her face. "Sometimes, I feel like he only keeps me around to know more about you. I know that's not true, but— I'm being silly now, aren't I?" She released a hollow laugh. "I'm loyal to the Dark Lord, I'm one of his most trusted," Bellatrix stated it more to herself than Lyra, as if she was trying to convince herself that her words were true.

Then, Bellatrix's lips formed a pout, making an adorably sad sight considering her cheek was still squished on the pillow and was now clutching the blanket that was providing her with a layer of warmth.

"Am I always going to be second best compared to you? Am I always going to be an afterthought when you are the priority? Am I always going to be the person people think of when you aren't available?" Bellatrix's questions weren't directed towards Lyra, who had fallen silent but were asked to herself in a trembling tone. She sounded exhausted. She sounded resigned.

"Bella..."

"No, no, it's alright," Bellatrix said on instinct because she had already rewired her brain and made a home out of always being a substitute. There were many times she had had to convince herself that she was okay and now, she could fool herself into accepting that judgement. "I was bothered by it initially, but now, I think I'm alright."

This was a lie, of course. Sometimes, Bellatrix would stare at herself in the mirror and she could physically feel her mind spiralling into darkness as it repeatedly echoed the two questions that she could never bring herself to answer: Why wasn't she good enough? Where did she fall short in comparison? It was a lie but since Bellatrix had said it enough, she could force herself to believe that it was honest.

"I'm alright with it," Bellatrix repeated. "You're a lovely person, Lyra. So powerful, so ambitious, so intelligent, so kind, so... so perfect. I'm okay with being second best to you in the eyes of others. I'm okay with being second best even to myself."

"You aren't, Bella, not to me. You're not second best," Lyra stated softly but sternly. "You're the best in the world. You're the first choice, even if you don't realise it. You need to prioritise yourself because darling, you're the most precious person in the world."

"But what's the point?" Bellatrix bitterly asked. "I could prioritise myself as much as I'd like but no-one else will. I'll always be worthless compared to you."

"You're worth much more than me, Bella. Tremendous more. You're a warrior-queen, like the constellation you're named after. You're a galaxy and we are all little specks in it competing for your attention. There is no such thing as perfection, Bella, but if there was, it would be you."

"Aww, look at you talking crap to make me feel better."

"I'm being sincere," Lyra said seriously. "You're a treasure. A mirage in a desert. Everyone's got heat-strokes, that's all."

Bellatrix sighed, falling onto her back from where she had previously been laying on her side. She stared vacantly at the white-tiled ceiling. "Why doesn't the Dark Lord feel that way?" She asked in a whisper as if she was scared to hear the response. "Why does he keep asking about your health, your happiness, when you are returning to Britain every time I see him? I mean, as his Lieutenant, I thought he would have been more worried about me than you. Why, Lyra, why?"

Realising that Bellatrix expected her to answer, Lyra forced herself to roll her eyes in faux fondness, saying in an exasperated tone, "Men."

Bellatrix giggled at her answer. "Men," she agreed, heavy-lidded eyes beginning to drop as the realm of Morpheus sang a Siren's call towards her.

Noticing it, Lyra leaned over to plant a feather-light kiss on Bellatrix's forehead, subsequently using the palm of her hand to gently close Bellatrix's eyes. "Sleep, Bella," she said softly. "You have a yucky potion to drink in the morning and energy to heal."

"I don't wanna sleep," Bellatrix mumbled, voice thick with exhaustion as slumber descended on her.

Lyra smiled down at her, turning to leave. She had a hand on the handle of the door when a mutter of Bellatrix's voice halted her actions.

"Lyra? Do you think that if none of us was there, if all of us moved to another country, do you think you would have hated the concept of war so much? Do you think you would have led a revolution if we were out of the picture?"

Lyra didn't answer. She exited the room and shut the door behind her. Lulled by the silence, Bellatrix slept soundly that night, dreaming a dreamless dream.

Bellatrix woke up disconcerted and groggy, having had to shake her heads and blink the reminder of her sleep away. The light bleeding through the thin curtains of the hospital room also helped to keep her awake.

She stared at the ceiling for a few moments. Then, she forced herself to sit upon the bed, leaning against the head-rest. That was when she noticed Lyra, dutifully seated on one of the arm-chairs in the room, a clipboard on her lap, hair pulled up to a neat bun.

At her movements, Lyra lifted her head, smiling as she did. "Good morning, Bella. How was your sleep?"

"Okay, I suppose." Was Bellatrix's reply.

"That's good to hear." Lyra stood up, dropping her clipboard onto the armchair as she approached her, producing a wand from the hollister on her arm and waving it around Bellatrix. "Do you feel any discomfort? Nausea? Dizziness?"

"I feel sleepy."

Lyra nodded her head understandingly. "Me too." She muttered some spells incoherently and Bellatrix watched with fascination as the tip of Lyra's wand changed to all the colours of the rainbow and every shade in between. When she was done, Lyra beamed. "Alright, everything looks good. You've healed beautifully. To stabilize your current state, I'll give you the third potion now and the fourth you must take to make sure it lasts; got it?"

"Got it," Bellatrix confirmed. When Lyra pocketed her wand and then reached towards the side-table where another vial of the brown-green potion was there, Bellatrix couldn't help but ask, "Wait, I'm all healed up? I thought it would hurt more."

"There was an anaesthetic agent in the potion you drank last night that induced numbness. That was the main purpose of the second potion, actually, to make sure you didn't feel pain while the first potion did all the healing."

"Oh."

Later, after Bellatrix had finished drinking the third potion and eating the stale breakfast when Lyra had come for the routine hourly check-up and lectured her not to overuse or put too much pressure on her body, Bellatrix asked her, "When can I go back to London?"

Lyra pursed her lips. "When do you want to go back to London?"

"Immediately," Bellatrix replied.

Having had little to no recollection of last night's events, Bellatrix wasn't plagued with the burden of the information and questions that she had quizzed her cousin on that morning, who unfortunately hadn't been granted the same clemency.

All Bellatrix could think about was that she had been incognito from the Dark Lord for a whole day, which was more than enough time for someone else to steal the title of Lieutenant that she had worked so hard to have. It was more than enough time for her name to be discredited and tarnished, for the Dark Lord to realise just how pitiful Bellatrix actually was, for everything that she had toiled towards to slip away from her fingers. Bellatrix was not going to let that happen.

Lyra nodded her head. "Alright then. I'll fill up the discharge papers after you leave. Wait for me to bring the fourth potion and then, you can leave."

"Okay."

Five minutes later, Bellatrix stood in front of the fireplace, ready to floo back to Britain. In her hands, she held the fourth potion, listening to Lyra remind her —again— to take the potion before dinner.

"I got it, Lyra," Bellatrix responded, irritated.

"I know, I'm just making sure though," Lyra assured, smiling softly.

"Yeah, yeah. Can I leave now?"

"Of course." Came Lyra's answer but then, she paused. "Bella?"

"What, Lyra?"

"Can I ask you a question?" Lyra hesitantly quizzed.

"Of course."

"You might feel mad," Lyra warned.

"Just tell me, Lyra, so I can leave. I know it will bug you forever if you don't."

Lyra didn't speak for a few seconds. Then, she quietly inquired, "The Dark Lord... Has he ever asked about me, by any chance?"

Bellatrix's face hardened while frost entered her eyes. "No. Not to me, anyway. I'm his Lieutenant, Lyra. The Dark Lord and I only talk about strategic plans to put those muggles in their place and to gain more followers. We don't gossip about you over high tea. Contrary to what you believe, the world doesn't revolve around you. Get over yourself."

"Of course, Bella. I'm sorry I asked such a question. It was quite stupid of me." Lyra played it off with a laugh to soothe the tension that had suddenly engulfed them.

Bellatrix was unamused. "Yes, that was very stupid. Don't do it again. Ever." Without waiting for a response, she threw the floo powder, saying, "Lestrange Manor, London!"

Lyra watched as the flames enveloped Bellatrix before she disappeared with a calculating glint in her gaze. Then, she sighed, blinking herself from her thoughts when she realised that she had paperwork to fill.