𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝘂𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻

Epilogue

Seven years later

It had been a quiet spring in Wiltshire. Rain came more often now — gentler, steadier — and the land around Malfoy Manor had softened. The old wards remained, but they hummed with a new magic. Calmer. Less cruel. Bellatrix Lestrange, now simply Bellatrix Black, had been under house arrest for almost six years. No wand. No travel beyond the property. No visits unless approved. And yet... she had found a kind of rhythm. She rose with the sun. She read books she once would have mocked. She wrote long, unsent letters and left them in the fireplace, only half-burned. Every week, she received The Daily Prophet. And every few months, there it was again.

Possible Sighting of Vivienne Florere — The Lost Heir of Slytherin
Reported near a Muggle clinic in the Swiss Alps.
A woman with ash-dark hair, a silver ring, and a cloak embroidered with anemones.
No photo available. No confirmation. But a lingering trace of residual, ancient magic.

Bellatrix folded the newspaper slowly. She didn't smile. She didn't frown. She only stared at the name. Vivienne Florere. She whispered it once, like a prayer she no longer believed in but couldn't forget. She turned to the window. Outside, in the stone garden she rarely visited, something small had bloomed at the edge of the fountain. White petals. Deep red center. Wind trembling against them.

Anemones.

No one on the property had planted them. She stood. Moved slowly down the stairs, barefoot across the marble. She stepped outside for the first time in weeks. Kneeling in the garden, she reached out and touched one of the flowers. Her fingers brushed the edge of the petal — soft, cold. The scent was faint. The flower of abandonment. A message. Or a promise. Or maybe just the ghost of one. Bellatrix looked toward the forest line beyond the manor, where the air shimmered faintly with old magic. She wondered—not for the first time—what Vivienne was chasing. Redemption? Revenge? Peace? And why, even after all these years, the thought of her still left Bellatrix breathless. She rose. Walked back inside. Closed the door.

But didn't lock it.