When they were all once again in their own time, Kingsley spoke grimly. “She had to have just made a Horcrux. That's what I think this is. Narcissa remembers her sister right after she made it."
The rest of them nodded without speaking. They could think of no other reason for Bellatrix's behavior.
"It made her insane," said Harry quietly.
“You mean more insane,” corrected Ron.
“I want to know who she was talking about...and why did she want to get at Draco so badly?” asked Hermione.
"Well, I cannot imagine murdering a person and tearing your soul to pieces for the good of anyone else. How could that possibly help another person?" pondered Professor McGonagall.
"Maybe it was for someone she loved," said Hermione pensively. "Her mother, or sister...Bellatrix didn't have any children that weren't in the books, did she?"
Professor McGonagall laughed. "She hardly seems the type to sacrifice her soul for a member of her family, Ms. Granger. In any way, Bellatrix and Rodolphus never had children. It was quite a scandal in some of the more wealthy social circles when she was first married. Bellatrix was...well, she couldn't have children."
She blushed slightly and both Kingsley's and Harry's eyebrows rose in amusement. "You travelled the gossip circuits, Minerva?" asked Kingsley with a smirk.
With a contemptuous look at Kingsley, she started toward the next red vial. "I don't think any of the gossip that I've heard in my lifetime is going to help us at all," she answered curtly. "There's no point in discussing rumors if the facts are in this next little bottle, is there?"
There was a communal nod, and she exchanged the first memory for the next one. It settled in the Pensieve like liquid crimson smoke, and Harry wasted no time in placing his face once again into the ancient blue bowl. He fell through the surface and into what seemed to be an elaborate banquet hall filled with smiling, chatting people. Harry recognized many of them. A superior looking Nott and Mulciber were whispering to each other in a corner, and Travers and Rookwood were gathered around a much younger, but no less conceited Lucius Malfoy, who was clothed in very ornate dress robes.
“The hall is impressive, Malfoy,” Rookwood was saying, “I bet it took a fat lot of galleons to steal it from the Prewetts. I heard they had reserved it nearly two years ago for their daughter’s wedding.”
“Yes, well, it wasn’t a matter of money, of course,” replied Malfoy haughtily. “A marriage so encouraged by the Dark Lord these days provides a great deal of…influence in the Ministry.”
So someone was getting married. Harry turned away from the three Death Eaters in search of a bride, and found her on the other side of the great hall. Bellatrix was standing motionless and solemn in her shining purple satin robes. She still held the wedding bouquet, though the look on her face was not that of a normal blushing bride. Her features were fixed in stone hopelessness. She was not looking around at her laughing, dancing guests. She was not seeking the face of what must have been her new husband, Rodolphus Lestrange. In fact, she did not even seem to be conscious of the celebration going on around her at all. She stared straight ahead with the same numb expression, and did not react in the slightest when Narcissa appeared at her side to congratulate her.
“Bella, you are radiant!” she said genuinely. “I’m sure you will have a long and happy life with dear Rodolphus. He is an extremely talented wizard.”
Bellatrix flinched at her words, but she did not meet her sister's eyes. Instead, she said in a monotone voice, “We thank you, dear Cissy. I am sure we will be happy.”
Narcissa stared at her sister, puzzled. ”Bella, is something wrong?” she asked. “You do not seem yourself today. The Dark Lord even commented on it before he left."
At the mention of Voldemort’s presence, Bellatrix seemed to brighten. “What did he say?"
"He told me that he was quite alarmed that he seemed more content on this glorious day than you," Narcissa revealed. "He advised me to help you to see what a wonderful match this is...do I need to?"
Bellatrix's face darkened. "Did the Dark Lord tell you how long he would be gone, Cissy?”
“Of course not!” replied Narcissa quickly. Bellatrix resumed her stony gaze. Narcissa made a second attempt. “What a lovely necklace!” she said too sweetly, and made to touch the glittering trinket that hung around Bellatrix’s neck. “Was it a gift from Rodolphus?”
Bellatrix tore away from Narcissa’s grip as if her touch were searing pain. “Do not touch it!” she hissed, and Harry saw red glowing momentarily in her eyes. He turned to see if anyone else had noticed. Hermione was nodding back at him. Narcissa seemed to have noticed as well, for she retracted her hand very quickly, and fixed her sister with a worried gaze.
“It was a gift from the Dark Lord himself,” boasted Bellatrix, staring straight ahead once again. “It is a great honor to receive such a thing from him…an honor you have not earned.”
Harry moved closer to look at the necklace. It was a heavy gold locket, tarnished and faded with age. It did not look like anything that would normally stand out, and yet, Harry had the faintest idea that he had seen it somewhere before. Could this be the locket that Bellatrix had been after in Gringott's? He looked at Ron, who wore the same puzzling look upon his face.
Narcissa smiled complacently at her sister. “It is a truly great gift then,” she sighed. “I can only hope one day to earn such a privilege from him.”
At this comment, Bellatrix adopted a look of pure horror. She fixed upon her sister for a moment and whispered in a shaking voice, “Cissy, pray that you never earn such a great and terrible privilege. Pray with everything that you have that he never confides in you the things that he has confided in me.”
“Bella, what do you mean?” Narcissa asked in alarm, but at that moment, Rodolphus interrupted them. By the way that he was walking, it was obvious that he had been at the bar with his brother.
“How is my dear…new bride today? He slurred, and the memory began to fade. Harry tried to steal a last look at the locket around Bellatrix’s neck, but Rodolphus was now hanging from her, blocking it from view.
“Harry,” Hermione said as they came out again in Kingsley’s office. “I’ve seen that necklace before. It’s the one you and Dumbledore brought back from the cave!”
Harry’s heart nearly stopped. He HAD seen the necklace before--had, in fact, carried it in his pocket for many months, taking it out religiously and pondering over it, wondering where the real locket with the real Horcrux could have been. He should have known every last engraved detail of that locket. He frowned.
“But I must have opened it a thousand times,” he said. “The only thing ever inside it was a note from Regulus. I know what a Horcrux feels like, and that locket certainly didn't feel like a Horcrux, if that's what you are thinking.”
"But you didn't know how a Horcrux felt when you had that one, Harry," replied Hermione. "Besides, who knows if all Horcruxes are alike. We felt it when we had Voldemort's Horcruxes, but maybe that's only because he was such a powerful wizard."
“It doesn’t matter right now whether or not it is the Horcrux," Kingsley interjected. "That's what Bellatrix is after. That's how we'll find her. Where is it now?”
A cold chill ran down Harry’s spine. He had given the locket to Kreacher as a gift. He had inadvertently made Kreacher Bellatrix’s next target. “Kreacher has it! At the house!”
Ron shrugged. "Call him," he said simply." Kingsley shook his head.
"He won't be able to apparate from inside your house," he explained. "We put some of our most modern protection spells on it. They make apparation impossible, even for house elves."
"He'll be fine as long as he stays at Grimmauld Place then Potter,” reassured Professor McGonagall. "Still, I wonder if it wouldn't be prudent to bring him to your office, Minister."
Kingsley nodded as Hermione stood up. "I can get him," she volunteered. "I wanted to talk to Ginny and Mrs. Weasley anyway”send a message with Pig that no one is under arrest. You all find out what's in that third red memory."
Ron stood up to go with her.
"Don't be stupid, Ron!" she said nonchalantly. "Grimmauld Place is probably the safest place in all of England right now." She walked toward the door. "I'll be back before you even leave the Pensieve."
"Please, take my personal chimney," said Kingsley, pointing her in the opposite direction. "It has been getting more use today than it has in the past four or five months!"
With a reassuring glance at Ron, she grabbed a small handful of floo powder and disappeared into the green flames. Harry replaced the memories once again and gestured for Ron to enter first. Kingsley had to nudge him before he noticed the invitation, as he was still staring worriedly into the fire.
"If I wasn't convinced that she's headed for complete safety, I wouldn't have let her go, Ron," Kingsley said.
"Nor I," reassured Professor McGonagall. "Now, let's see what else, Mrs. Lestrange has been up to, shall we?"
Ron nodded half-heartedly and looked deeply into the Pensieve.
Harry followed quickly after wondering how long it would take Bellatrix to find Kreacher if he left the house.
The Legacy of Four by spaniard
Chapter Notes: A look back at a momentous occasion in the lives of Death Eaters.
Chapter Endnotes: Up next: The Power of Blood and Memory