The world spun around Harry and Bellatrix as flames of fiendfyre danced about them and consumed Riddle Manor. Desperately, Bellatrix hung onto Harry, a hand on the hair ornament protruding from his gut and one of her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Bellatrix tried to fight the dizziness that was enveloping her. She had to do something to help Harry. His breathing was growing shallow. The dizziness worsened and was soon accompanied by a deep chill. For an instant, she closed her eyes, and it was over.
Surprised, Bellatrix opened her eyes and surveyed their surroundings. There was no trace of Riddle Manor. The land sprawled around them was lightly sprinkled with snow, and the sun sat ready to set just above the western horizon. Just in sight was the graveyard where Harry had pointed out the burial place of Lord Voldemort's father. There was no sign that large house had ever stood where Bellatrix and Harry were. An involuntary gasp from Harry summoned Bellatrix's attention to him.
"We've got to get you to St. Mungo's," Bellatrix breathed, gingerly removing her hand from the hair ornament that Voldemort's spell had implanted into Harry's stomach. She eased her arm from around him and gently laid him back on the ground.
"No," Harry whispered, clearly struggling to keep his eyes open.
"You need medical help desperately," Bellatrix argued.
"Time travel," Harry muttered sluggishly. "Riddle Manor isn't here. We must be in the future. Dangerous."
Bellatrix glanced around their surroundings again. The snow definitely was not right for what would have been summer. She took her wand and cast a spell to clear away the snow. The grass and vegetation continued uninterrupted. If Harry was right, they had traveled more than six months or a year into the future. If Bellatrix had not known for herself that a large house had once stood where she and Harry were, she would not believe it for a second.
"Do you think the dark lord is still about?" Bellatrix asked nervously, mentally trying to figure in her mind just what sort of situation they were facing.
"Definitely," Harry muttered. "Home. Let's go home."
Following Harry's wishes, but going against her instincts to seek normal medical attention, Bellatrix gathered Harry into her arms, doing her best to avoid making him uncomfortable. Using her wand, she double-apparated them directly into their flat. She was pleased to discover that it was still their flat. Their furnishings sat undisturbed save for an extremely thick coating of dust. Another spell levitated Harry into the air, allowing Bellatrix to move him to his bedroom.
A number of cleaning spells rendered the room habitable, and Bellatrix soon had Harry stripped of his outer garments and in his bed. He was struggling to stay awake.
"What do you propose we do now, Harry?" Bellatrix asked. He had resisted her pulling out the hairpin and had resisted the idea of going to a hospital. She wanted to know what he had that was better. If he did not know, she could improvise.
"The contract," Harry whispered.
"What?" Bellatrix asked.
"Marriage contract," Harry said in a low voice, obviously straining to retain consciousness. His face was quite pale. "I'll sign it. You'll inherit everything."
Bellatrix was struck by a violent mixture of emotion. She wanted nothing more than for Harry to sign the contract, but not like this. Not if he thought signing it would give him license to pass on and leave her alone to resist, flee from, or fight Voldemort. "No, Harry," she said. "Not like this."
"Yes," Harry said. "Please. Just in case."
Bellatrix left the room. It took her only a moment to find where she had put the contract. The parchment had aged significantly, and Bellatrix began to wonder just how far they had traveled into the future. She fetched a quill and ink and was soon at Harry's bedside. "You have to sign in two places," she told Harry, tears welling up in her eyes. "But remember, you're going to get well again."
"We don't know that," Harry grunted, straining as he made a pair of illegible squiggles on the parchment. "Guess we're married now."
"Not until I send this to the bank," Bellatrix replied, feeling very strange. She pocketed the signed marriage contract. "What are we going to do to get you help?"
"I have potions stored in caches I've hidden," Harry whispered.
"Where are they?" Bellatrix asked.
Harry began to try to explain, but his condition was becoming worse and what he was saying did not make sense to Bellatrix.
"Have you written their locations down?" Bellatrix urged.
Harry shook his head in a frustrated, yet pathetically weak manner.
Bellatrix realized that Harry was on the verge of losing consciousness. Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. "Harry," she said, "look into my eyes. I can try to use legilimency. Just think of some of your caches."
Harry's gaze was very dull, but he stared into Bellatrix's violet eyes. Bellatrix raised her wand and cast the spell to read his mind. It didn't work. "You need to open your mind to me," Bellatrix urged.
She tried again, and barely, she felt her consciousness slip in behind Harry's eyes. It was as if she was looking through his eyes but at things that weren't there. Somewhat shocked, Bellatrix watched as he kicked a box down into her father's opened grave. Vaguely, she could feel a sense of embarrassment coming from Harry's feelings. He probably had not anticipated her finding out about that cache. The scene changed, and Harry was in an unfinished house. He secured another box into the fireplace of the home.
"I need to know where that house is, Harry," Bellatrix said slowly so as not to disrupt her tenuous connection with and focus on Harry's mind.
Slowly, the scene in Harry's mind changed as he attempted to draw Bellatrix a map on how to find his aunt and uncle's house. This coincided with Harry's other memories of the house. Harry's mind showed to Bellatrix the relative position of the house in the neighborhood and then the position of the neighborhood within its greater area, and the greater area's relative position to London. Unbidden, Harry's mind also showed Bellatrix some other memories.