For Cathy's Foreign Challenge. 500 words.
Haunted Passions
Bellatrix flattened herself against the wall of the house, watching and waiting. Waiting for one particular young woman with silvery-blonde hair and grey-blue eyes.
Finally, the said young woman appeared, laughing and joking with her younger sister as they turned the corner of the street. Bella's eyes narrowed at the sight of her. "Filthy part-breed scum", she thought. "Will men never learn to withstand the allure?"
However, Bella's eyes widened with glee and her lips curved upwards into a smirk when she realised that no bodyguard followed the two girls. Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour, daughters to one of France'srichest and most important ministers, walked alone. This was almost too easy.
Stepping out of the shadows, Bellatrix lowered her hood. "Hello, girlies. I think it's time we had a little chat, don't you?"
When Fleur found herself staring into horribly familiar heavily lidded eyes and wild ebony curls, she snapped into action. She wasn't Beauxbatons's Triwizard Tournament Champion for nothing. Screaming at Gabrielle to run, run as far and as fast as she could, she snatched her wand from its holster and spun on her heel, firing off a series of nonverbal curses as best she could.
To no avail. Skilled though Fleur was, she was only a seventeen year old schoolgirl. Her opponent, on the other hand, was a woman in her prime, thirteen years in Azkaban notwithstanding and the Dark Lord's most faithful Death Eater. His protégé. There was no way Fleur could stand against her.
Unless…
It didn't usually work on another female, but it was worth a try.
Twisting wildly away from yet another jet of scarlet light, Fleur focused on the spot between her assailant's eyes. Willing herself to concentrate, she hit Bellatrix with all the Veela allure she could muster.
The Delacour scum reacted better than she had been expecting, Bella had to admit. She sent her younger sister sprinting from the scene with a single scream and then spun to shower Bellatrix in a stream of silent curses.
They were weak curses, though; no true power behind them. Bella threw them off lightly, almost laughing, wheeled to shoot another Crucio in the girl's direction.
Only to find herself suddenly understanding why every man in the world hungered after a girl with Veela blood. Even sweating and pale with exhausted exertion, Fleur Delacour suddenly seemed the prettiest creature in the world.
Bella couldn't help herself. Her wand clattered to the floor as her wrists went slack; as every muscle in her body went slack. She stepped forward, catching the younger girl's eye.
Fleur held her gaze, and for a moment, it seemed to Bella that there was consent in the grey-blue orbs that stared into her own jet-black ones. She needed no second invitation.
Her hands found the young woman's shoulders, the soft tender flesh. Her heart pounded in unison with the French beauty's own. Her lips crashed on to the full, cherubic ones beneath, seeking a solace that she would never find.