The witch, in all black from head to toe, a corset on the outside of her dress cinching her body in and pushing her body out all at the same time, tilts her head to the side. "Bellatrix is in St. Mungo’s here," she says with perfect enunciation. "There was nobody for her to follow." Her blood red lips curl into something like a smile, and Hermione recognises her features with slow shock. "I’m you."