"A-Are you... are you an angel?" His voice was broken, strained, painful, but what could one expect from someone who was dying?

The woman standing over him was beautiful, pale, dark flowing thick curls, red lips and shining eyes. Beautiful.

"Yes my pet, I'm an angel come to ease your pain." Bellatrix purred softly, her voice a quite whisper as she lent over the dying young boy and gently stroked his hair. He was no older than twelve, maybe younger, but Bellatrix didn't see age, she saw targets, and sadly for this boy his now dead parents had been such, so he was too.

The small group of Death Eaters had done their job well, the whole family was dead, the line wiped out forever. Only the boy remained. Bleeding out on the cold floor and Bellatrix looked upon him with equally cold eyes. Rabastan had failed to kill him, so she'd do it instead. Man. Woman. Child. It made no difference. A mark was a mark.

He was looking up at her with big brown eyes, tearful and glassy, he was dying and wouldn't last another half hour. "Close your eyes, child." The dark witch cooed, she was kneeling next to him now, her gestures that of motherly affection but looks were deceiving and her smile was twisted, dark, sinister.

With two whispered words and a flash of green light the boy stopped breathing. It was quick and painless. Like going to sleep. Maybe she'd done him a kindness after all.