Note: Soulmate!AU - You have your soulmate's name on one wrist and your mortal enemy on the other.
There was a deep scowl settled on Amycus's face. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw was clenched. If he weren't careful, his face would remain that way; if he believed that rubbish.
Though nothing was more rubbish than the names etched onto his wrist.
Bellatrix Black. Petunia Evans.
Amycus was no fool. He was well aware of what differed between the two names on his wrists. The Blacks were well known in the Pureblood circles, meanwhile, the name Evans was nonexistent. It was a filthy Muggle.
Growing up, he and his sister were told that the names that appear on their wrists would direct them to their mortal enemies and their soulmates.
They were also instructed to end their mortal enemy's life before they hinder the goals set in the siblings' lives.
Amycus accepted such a task with no hesitation.
Yet it's not supposed to be this easy. Surely, he was meant to kill the Muggle; there was no doubt in his mind. However, there was doubt in accepting that Bellatrix was who he was meant to be bound to for the rest of his life.
She was wicked, yes. Her cruelty and taunts could rival his sister's. She was taught to uphold the Black name with grace and an iron grip. It was a Pureblood wizard's goal to be associated with the likes of families like the Black's.
Well, every Pureblood wizard other than himself. Blood traitors didn't count.
It was just something about Bellatrix that brought a resentful taste to Alecto's tongue. Her presence made him shiver, and he'd never admit that it could be intimidation.
This Carrow would be damned before being intimidated by his soulmate. Thus, leaving him in the position he was in now.
He'd found this Petunia Evans after a few tracking techniques, and now that night had fallen, he was watching her.
He watched her posture held tight in the presence of who he presumed was her parents. He watched the hated color her features at the redhead beside her. He watched the intensity in her words with the vein popping in her neck.
It was admirable. It was fucking disgusting.
Yet it was much better than being next to Bellatrix.
Amycus looked at his wrists again, the scowl settling on his face once more. Merlin could kiss his arse for the foolishness and mockery he's made of him with the names etched on his wrists.
Killing Petunia Evans shouldn't be a problem. Accepting Bellatrix as his soulmate shouldn't be a problem.
Except it was a problem. What was to come of this?
Word Count: 430