Her stomach heaved, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could hardly breathe, hardly think, and in that moment she might have accepted death gladly. Though her grief didn't fade, her suicidal urges did as soon as she felt the tug of Bellatrix's hand in her hair. It was Bellatrix. Always Bellatrix. Always Sirius, barreling headfirst into situations even though she had it on pretty good authority that he'd hated her up until his last breath.