— What are you talking about? Childish horror stories, old prejudices, fantasies! — The man grinned broadly and looked at the other two as if they were inadequate, sick people.
— Let's see if it's fiction or not. — Bellatrix smiled broadly, never doubting such things, even though she had never dealt with them, but firmly convinced of their reality.
— You're mad!
— If that's the case, you have nothing to fear, Sirius. — He shrugged indifferently. — If we're right, I'm afraid this won't be the most pleasant experience of your life.
— What do you mean? — Sirius tensed involuntarily.
— A Patron is called a Patron for a reason, because he oversees the implementation of the Clan Code, the oaths and vows of the members of the Clan, and as far as they are concerned, he is a judge and protector. That's why I doubt very much that you, Sirius, have done many deeds worthy of your family.
— Well, that's nonsense, — the man said with both hope and nervousness in his voice, but no one was in a hurry to answer him.
And then, without delay, Bellatrix, he and Kreacher, who followed him, went into the underground rooms of the house, where there was nothing more than what was above ground. The darkness, the coolness and the unexpected dryness of the air was dispelled by the lights of the simple Lumos, but it was of little use. It seemed as if the darkness itself had taken up residence here, and it certainly did not want its existence defiled by the hated light, even if only a tiny fraction of it.
The man wondered why his cousin was not lighting all the torches and braziers, of which there were many. How was he to know that such orders (and without an order, there wouldn't even be gasoline) could be given to the house either by the family's official jailer or by someone from the higher branch, and that Bellatrix would not confirm her status until she had safely given birth to her children.
Sirius peered warily into the deep shadows, listening for the sound of footsteps, afraid that some nasty crap the paranoid ancestors had placed here might come out. He glanced at his cousin from time to time, but she didn't seem worried at all, more like home — that was the look on her face right now. It only made him feel worse, but he couldn't do anything about it, because his body was living its own life, and only his thoughts belonged to him anymore.
How long the journey into darkness lasted, the man did not know, but he was glad to see a mighty stone arch, covered with a complex pattern, though not in the most "light" style, on the contrary — in the "black" style. Some dangerous creatures with wings, tails, powerful clawed paws, as if lurking in their dangerous poses, glowing eyes watching those who dared to descend into this place.
The patterns of flame and smoke carved into the stone glowed faintly with blue light, outlining an inky black double door with massive rings instead of handles, held together by a chain that was heavy even for its appearance. There was no lock on the chain, it looked as if it had been chained forever, but the man wasn't fooled, he had seen the runes on the metal of both the handle rings and the chain links, so he had no doubt that there was a lock, just that not everyone would know it existed. And the method of opening it would not be easy.
Sirius looked at his cousin and almost shuddered: how could he admire her? The woman studied every pattern, every single line, even as she came to the door, stroking the chain lovingly, and this time he shuddered. Psychos! Running her fingertips over the massive rings, Bellatrix placed her right palm on the chain, clearly between the rings, and squeezed her hand.
In the next instant, the man had a double wish: on the one hand, he wanted to gloat, and on the other hand, he was a little, just a little, sorry to see a dozen sharp spokes pierce the woman's hand. Just the sight of it was eerie, and how his cousin felt when the three-edged spikes pierced her arm, Sirius didn't even want to think about, just shrugged.
After a few moments, the spikes were gone, as were the wounds on his skin, his cousin pulled his hand away, and the chain unlocked itself and slid away, leaving only one ring hanging. The doors moved and began to open slowly, and Sirius could see that they were at least two feet thick, but they moved silently, allowing him to see what was inside.
A perfectly circular hall with thirteen columns in a circle and a large and thick stone slab in the center. Thirteen torches burned with magical blue light, just like the magical patterns on the floor, the walls and the slab. I didn't want to go inside, but my body moved on its own and lay down on the slab itself. The strange, unfamiliar dialect Bellatrix was singing in gave me a strange feeling, and my heart began to beat faster, as if in anticipation of something... completely unbridled, strong and unstoppable, wild. The sound of drums appeared on the edge of audibility, as if somewhere far away, beyond the misty forests and cold rivers, a primitive festival was taking place, its sounds carried by gusts of wind.
With each new line it grew hotter, the heart seemed to beat somewhere in the throat, and the body was panting with the desire to take part in this strange, wild celebration. As the drums beat nearby, literally deafening him with their indomitable rhythms, and the heat of the fires burned his skin, everything stopped abruptly, froze in weightlessness, and somehow became deafeningly quiet and scalding cold. The darkness gathered into an impenetrable sphere directly above him, from which two blue eyes of fire flashed. Sirius had never been so scared in his life. Dementors were a pathetic joke and a minor misunderstanding compared to THIS.
The unreal eyes swept the room with their unreal gaze, pausing briefly on Bella before turning all their attention to him, to Sirius, making him squirm and whimper. His eyes seemed to squint, watching him even more intently, and now the man didn't even notice that he had been sensitive again since the beginning of the ritual, but because of the specific effects of the birth ritual, he was drawn to the memories of distant ancestors stored in the blood of every wizard with a long lineage.
— Finally... — a hoarse, barking voice broke the thick silence, and Sirius lost consciousness....