Bellatrix froze in the doorway to the nursery as she took in the sight of Amycus Carrow leaning over her daughters crib. The baby was screaming blue murder and Bellatrix felt her heart doing painful leaps in her chest when she caught sight of his wand in his hand. Of course she could best him, she could render him a gibberish mess in seconds even if she was blindfolded but he was so close to her crying child, would she be fast enough to stop him if he..?
"What are you doing in here? The third floor is off limits to you." The dark witch was careful in picking her words, and just as careful in her movements as she over closer to the crib, he made no threatening move but she was watching him like a hawk watches a mouse, never taking her eyes off him even as she reached down and scooped up the still wailing child who had wisely picked up on the mans hostility.
"She looks like you, don't see any of old Roddie in her though." Amycus said casually, "in fact, she looks a bit like someone else I know. Don't you think so, Bella?"
Only he could make her shortened name sound like he was fucking it, it made her skin crawl and any other time she'd have hexed him so damn good but she had her child in her arms who was only just two days old and she herself still weakened from such a hard labour and birth, she didn't dare risk her baby getting hurt. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now get out before I make you."
Amycus held up his hands, his wand still in his left, "take it easy tiger mum, I'm going." He liked this, liked making her uncomfortable, liked having a bit of power over the jumped up bitch, oh he'd pay for it later he knew that whether from her own wand or from her old mans but it would be worth it.
He passed by brushing up against her so close he could smell her, dragons blood incense, cinnamon, dark magic, something that was just remotely Bellatrix but he did nothing other than imagine her trapped underneath him, begging for him, writhing and moaning his name. He caught her eyes and saw murder there, the child still crying but less now she was in her mothers protective embrace, he smiled at her, a leering smile that told her of his dirty thoughts, "have a nice day, madam Lestrange."
The child hushed almost immediately when he left the room and Bellatrix placed a kiss upon the baby's head, rocking her gently and smoothing wispy soft hair, "He's got to go."
A few days later Alecto Carrow received a note brought to her by a jet black owl with orange eyes, it bore the news her brother was dead and was written in Bellatrix's slanting scrawl. The news itself devastated the witch but it was the Post Script that broke her; 'he died screaming in a fire, but fear not, fire cleanses the soul.'