Almost the second she had gotten the Owl from Narcissa, Rita had rushed to the living room to take the floo. Usually, she would've been wary trying to drop right into the Black household out of the fear of Druella spotting her, but Narcissa had told her it was safe and she was going to take her word for it. She arrived in the fireplace to Narcissa leaning against a pillar, clearly waiting for her.
“Skeeter,” She smiled weakly. “I'm sorry I called you so suddenly.”
She shrugged, taking a look around, taking in every last detail about the room that she could, she was curious like that. “It's okay, what's the issue?”
Narcissa beckoned her over so they were stood nose to nose. “She needs you, Skeeter.” She whispered. “Andy left earlier this evening and she's been…she's not been present.”
Rita understood immediately and pushed past the blonde to get to Bella. She scanned the hallway, eyes finally landing on the door with the sign reading Bellatrix Black. She drew closer to it, cautiously pushing the door open, half expecting to be cursed. She wasn't. Nothing happened. She looked inside and saw Bella sat on the bed, staring at the wall in silence. Very cautiously, she edged closer, eventually standing next to the bed. Rita knelt down slowly, tactically.
“Hi,” She whispered and Bella’s eyes flicked towards her for a minute. “You alright?”
Bella didn't say anything.
“Can I sit?” Bella nodded and she sat in front of her, reaching out to take her hand between them, holding it gently, playing with the rings on Bella’s hands until she was ready to talk.
“I don't care,” She eventually snapped. “She was a traitor anyway.”
Rita nodded and smiled at her sadly. She could read people well and she knew very well that Bellatrix was lying. She didn't have the heart to call it out.
“Okay. Can I help you get out of this,” She nodded towards the corset, petticoat, and chemise her girlfriend was wearing and Bella looked down at the dress she was wearing. “Okay, stand up, Chéri.” She knew Bella liked it when she learned bits of French for her. “Well done, sweetheart,” She whispered when she did, and went to loosen the corset she’d likely had on underneath her main dress. Her family was traditional like that, still dressing as though it was the 1880s as opposed to the late 1960s. It was quite funny. She helped her remove her clothing and provided her a light nightdress from her drawers, watching her slide it on slowly, still staring at the wall.
They sat back down on the bed together.
“Narcissa is worried about you,” Rita prompted.
“Je sais.”
She paused. “I'm worried about you.”
“Je sais.”