Kevin went still.
The name registered wrong — a half-beat off, like a word mispronounced in a language you'd only learned from books. He knew it. He knew who she was. He'd watched her fight, watched her fall at the Granger house. She was the most dangerous of Voldemort's followers and she was dead, which was supposed to make things simpler.
So why did it suddenly make things significantly more complicated?
"Bellatrix," Kevin said. "Walk me through it."
Lucius gathered himself. "She was his closest. His most trusted. Anything he needed handled — kept, guarded, done quickly and without question — he went to her first." He chose his words with care. "She lived by his side. No permanent home. No manor. She burned the Lestrange family estate herself after her wedding and never looked back."
"So she held things for him."
"Almost certainly."
"And she's dead." Kevin said it flatly, watching Lucius's face.
"The Prophet covered it." Lucius nodded. "Executed the day after Voldemort raided the Ministry. The last prisoner they couldn't free."
Kevin stood.
Something was building at the back of his mind — not quite a shape yet, but an outline. The wrong proportions. Things that didn't line up the way they should.
Voldemort had stormed the Ministry in open daylight. He'd broken out a dozen prisoners at enormous risk and cost. And then he'd left his closest and most valuable follower behind, and she'd been quietly executed the following morning with almost no publicity, and no one had thought to mention it to Kevin, and Lucius's people had connections inside the Ministry and had apparently only just now thought to check.
"What else do you know about her? Habits. Routines. Anything."
Lucius hesitated. "Not much. We weren't close. She was Narcissa's sister, which I knew rather better than I would have liked." A pause. "She kept her valuables at Gringotts. She had a high-security vault — dragon-guarded. Very deep in."
Kevin nodded. His jaw had gone tight.
"That covers it. Thank you for your time."
He turned toward the door.
"Kevin."
The voice was quiet and very serious. It was Narcissa, standing just inside the doorway, watching him with her hands folded and her eyes steady.
She looked at Lucius. A look that held a whole conversation.
Lucius stood. He didn't look comfortable. He didn't look like a man who enjoyed being in this position. But he stood, and when he spoke it was with the particular effort of someone choosing the harder thing.
"Kevin." He stopped. Tried again. "Thank you. For bringing my family out of that situation. For — for Draco."
It cost him something. That was clear enough.
Kevin looked at him for a moment. Then he shook his head. "I did it for Draco. Not for you."
He didn't say it unkindly. Just clearly.
Narcissa's face shifted — not quite disappointed, but still hoping. Kevin paused at the door.
"I'll bring him by again sometime. After school starts."
That was the closest thing to an olive branch he was going to offer. He could see from her expression that she understood it exactly.
He went to find Harry and the others.
Hermione was on her feet the moment she saw his face.
"How'd it go?"
"Good." He looked at Draco. "Pack your things."
"I just got here, I —"
Kevin picked him up by the back of his collar, which was undignified and effective.
"You're coming with us. School starts soon anyway."
Draco made several objections. Harry and Ron moved in on either side, each taking an arm. Hermione covered her face briefly with one hand, then moved to take Kevin's free one.
"Ready?" Kevin asked.
"He's still struggling," Ron reported.
"He'll be fine."
"I'm not fine —"
They Apparated.