Falmouth Falcons, Captain: Gost- Write about someone who can't let go of a grudge or resentment
Word Count: 1479
Warning: child murder, canon divergence
"You aren't going to change my mind," Andromeda says, maneuvering around the older witch.
Bellatrix refuses to give up. Her sister is about to make the biggest mistake of her life. What sort of person would she be if she just stood back and let Andromeda ruin her own life? She quickens her pace. "Andi! Are you mad? He's a Mudblood! Do you really think he loves you?"
Andromeda comes to a stop so suddenly that Bellatrix nearly crashes into her. She turns, dark eyes narrowing and lips twisting into a scowl as she takes a step back, putting a comfortable space between them. "Ted does love me," she answers. "You can either love and support me, or you can step aside and let me live my life without you."
Bellatrix recoils as though she's been physically struck. Her jaw drops, and she waits for the punchline–because surely it's a joke; Andromeda has always been so obedient and would never risk their family's honor.
With a heavy sigh, Andromeda turns on her heel and begins to walk away. For several moments, Bellatrix can only stare after her in stunned silence. She shakes her head, dark curls thinking against her face.
"Andi! Wait!" Bellatrix calls, following after her. "You're making a huge mistake!"
"I think I'll decide that for myself," her younger sister says without sparing Bellatrix another glance.
"You're going to regret it!"
But Andromeda doesn't stop, doesn't look back. She leaves Bellatrix behind, choosing a filthy Mudblood over her own family.
Bellatrix curls her fingers inward, nails digging into her palm until they break skin and leave scarlet crescents behind. This betrayal will never be forgiven.
"You asked us to let you know if we found him," Greyback says.
Bellatrix is on her feet within seconds, feeling absolutely giddy with excitement as she crosses the room. She has waited so long for this moment, and it's finally here.
"Some of his little friends escaped," the werewolf says, lips drawn back into a snarl that reveals pointed, yellowing teeth. "But some didn't."
She knows what happens to those who don't away from Greyback and his little pack of Snatchers. Quick as a flash, she presses her wand into his chest, nostrils flaring. "So help me, if you killed the filthy–"
"I didn't! I didn't!" Greyback assures her, stumbling backwards and nearly tripping over his own feet. "He's yours."
"No," Bellatrix says, pushing past him. "He's hers. That's the point."
"He's whose?"
She doesn't wait around long enough to explain. A monster like Greyback doesn't understand the beauty of fury. Though he is fire and rage, his mind is too clouded by by bloodlust. The beast only understands the joys in quick destruction; he could never know what it means to slowly, completely ruin a person.
Bellatrix has never been the type to forgive. Her heart clings to her rage, fueling it until it consumes her, until she is the embodiment of vengeance. Her sister wronged her so many years ago, and Bellatrix has not forgotten, nor has she tried to let go of her resentment.
She makes her way to cellar, summoning flames to illuminate the darkness. When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she nearly laughs at the pathetic sight.
The man's clothes are ripped and covered with mud. His fair hair has been darkened with blood that seems to come from a nasty cut around his temple. Bellatrix has always known that Mudbloods are filthy, disgraceful things, but she isn't prepared for the wave of disgust that washes over her.
"So," she says, stepping forward as she traces her fingertips over her wand. "You're the bastard that stole Andi from me."
His eyes widen in fear, but he doesn't cry out, doesn't beg. If she's honest, Bellatrix is more than a little impressed. Still, it doesn't matter. By the time she's finished with him, he'll be begging her to end his miserable life.
"I hear congratulations are in order," the Dark Lord says.
Bellatrix hates the chill in her master's voice. She bows her head in shame, swallowing dryly. Around her, the other Death Eaters watch as the most viscous, most bloodthirsty among them acts like a naughty child being scolded.
"I'm not sure what you mean, my Lord," she whispers.
"Do not be so modest, dear Bellatrix," her master says, reaching out and patting her cheek. "I'm sure you must be so pleased at the birth of your niece."
Laughter fills the room. Bellatrix's face burns, and she wants nothing more than to curse each and every one of them. Instead, she says, "That half-blood is no niece of mine."
But this does not help her cause. She still hears the whispers and chuckles. Her fellow Death Eaters seem to relish in her embarrassment.
She keeps her head held high and her jaw clenched until the sides of her face begin to ache. Somehow, even after running away and tarnishing the family's name, Andromeda has found a way to humiliate her further.
Her grudge only grows, and she longs for the day when she can finally pay Andromeda back in kind.
The half-blood is a skilled duelist. In another life, maybe Bellatrix could have been proud of her. Maybe she could have even taught the girl to fight, passed her knowledge of battle on to her.
She pushes the thought from her mind quickly, dark eyes narrowing as the pink-haired witch dodges a beam of green.
"And here I thought you were meant to be frightening," the brat says, sending a hex in Bellatrix's direction.
Bellatrix easily deflects it, stepping closer. She hates to admit it, but her opponent is stronger. Bellatrix is older, and she can feel her energy slipping away. It's only a matter of time before she becomes too tired and makes a careless mistake.
She can't. This battle may very well be the last one that she fights, but she will not die just yet. The girl is just another reminder of Andromeda's betrayal, and Bellatrix's anger fuels her forward.
"Your father thought I was quite frightening when he begged for mercy," Bellatrix tells her.
It works as she had hoped. Her niece hesitates, face pain-stricken, and it is enough of a pause.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Andromeda's child falls to the ground. Little by little, she will tear her sister apart.
"I never said you had to apologize," Narcissa insists as Bellatrix joins her tea while baby Draco naps. "I'm only saying it isn't a terrible idea to let go."
Bellatrix stirs her tea, watching the milk swirl and lighten the dark liquid within. "And why would I do that?"
Narcissa clears her throat, pale cheeks flooding with heated color. Poor dear. She has always looked at the world with such innocent eyes. She could never understand Bellatrix's anger.
"She's still…" Narcissa sets her cups aside, exhaling heavily. "I know she's been disowned, but we've been through so much together. She is still our sister. How long are you going to hold this grudge?"
"And she's betrayed us," Bellatrix says simply. "Any grudge that I hold is her fault."
Narcissa looks like she wants to argue, but she seems to think better of it. She closes her mouth, shrugging her slender shoulders before reaching for her cup again.
The Dark Lord is victorious, and that should be enough. Somehow, it isn't, and that's what brings Bellatrix here now.
There's a flash of green light, and the infant's cries fade. Bellatrix stares down at the turquoise-haired boy, smiling to herself. He is the final connection Andromeda has to the Mudblood.
"Dora? Is it over? Did we–"
Bellatrix's lips draw back into a broad, toothy grin when she sees her sister standing in the nursery doorway. "Hello, Andi," she says. "I missed you. Expelliarmus!"
Andromeda's wand flies through the air before she has a chance to even think of a spell. Bellatrix catches it, snapping it quickly and pocketing the pieces.
"Leave Teddy alone! He's done nothing to you!" Andromeda screams, and Bellatrix savors the pain and panic in her voice.
Bellatrix offers her a faux-apologetic smile. "Oops. Bit late for that. Don't worry," she says, stepping toward her sister at last. "He didn't feel a thing. Neither did your daughter. Your husband, however… Oh, he cried for you, Andi. Your name was the last thing he ever said."
She relishes the way her words have a visible impact on Andromeda. The younger witch lets out a choked sound as she drops to her knees, the reality of the situation clearly weighing on her.
"To answer your question," Bellatrix says, "I won."
As she begins to walk away, she hears Andromeda's anguished sobs. "Why don't you kill me? You took everything from me!"
Bellatrix doesn't turn around. Just as Andromeda had all those years ago, she keeps walking without sparing her sister another glance.