She had to stop and think. Before she ran off, still covered in Antonin's blood, she made at least weekly trips to the castle for an audience with the Dark Lord. He appreciated reports from her department in the Ministry to come straight from her mouth, a fact that made Rabastan Lestrange quite angry. To the best of her recollection, he'd looked fine, normal. Or, as normal as it was possible for him to look. She dimly recalled being summoned to the castle just a few days before the yearly celebration of the end of the war.