A/N: SPOILERS FROM NOW ON FOR DEATHLY HALLOWS!

I love Bellatrix Lestrange. She puts the 'fun' in 'fundamental psycho'. I was very angered by her less-than-worthy murderer so I decided that it's not the end of her after all. I may add a sequel of crap but this is the great oneshot.

Disclaimer: Me? Own Harry Potter? I wish! You want her points to JKR.

The Loyalty of A Murderer

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Taunted Bellatrix, mad as her master, capering as the blood-traitor's curses danced around her. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

"You-will-never-touch-our-children-again!" Screamed Mrs Weasley.

Bellatrix laughed an exhilerated laugh, this was what she lived for, this was her purpose. To fight with all the strength she possesed for her Lord. The Lord. She would die for him, gladly.

The blood-traitor's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstreched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart.

Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, her eyes semed to bulge; for the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened and then she toppled, the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed. With her last breath she searched for him across the room, finally her black gaze met his scarlett. Instead of using the last dregs of her strength to close her eyes, or move into a more dignified position she spoke, sure he would hear despite the distance, he never ceased to amaze her.

"I am loyal, master." She whispered gently, falling out of that world.

Bellatrix hit the ground moments later, in another. A thick white mist was swirling around her, obscuring what might have been a hole in the sky above her. Then her vision abruptly blinked out and she felt herelf black out.

Sometime later, she had no idea how long, Bellatrix woke up to see the alien, milk-white fog. It swirled around everything. Not that there was much to swirl around, as far as she could see this world was empty, there was nothing but the soggy, marshy ground she stood on and the strange white mist, blanketting the land. She could see no sky through it, nor any trees or bushes and no other people. For lack of anything else to do, Bellatrix moved to sit on the sodden muddy ground, wrinkling her nose slightly at the damp smell. She felt so cold and distant from everything. Suddenly curious, Bellatrix Lestrange put a hand over the place where her heart was, just below where the spell had hit.

It was not beating.

Bellatrix shrugged slightly, she wasn't really surprised. It felt sort of odd to have no heartbeat but she supposed that was why she was dead.

The place where the blood-traitor's curse hit did hurt though. She was seething with rage, that filthy creature of dirt should never have been able to overpower her, one who had learned the dark arts from the one man who had power over them. Her Lord. Bellatrix muttered curses that she knew would never reach Mrs. Weasley. That imbecile had killed her right when she was at last fufilling her destiny, moments before her master killed those tedious rebels and took his rightfull place as ruler over all. She pushed back the sleeve of her robe and caressed her Dark Mark lovingly, then her face twisted into a scowl. Thanks to that weasel she would never see her Lord sit upon the shining throne, never see him achieve the power he aimed for, never recieve her reward for being with him every step of the journey that led there.

Bellatirx threw back her head and screamed.

It was a scream of rage, a note of pure fury, that told her anguish at being killed just before her goal, to whatever creatures roamed this world.

And someone screamed back.

Bellatrix immediately stopped, she scrambled to her feet, peering through the fog. She knew that scream, having heard it all too many times when her master's plans were foiled by the impudent brat, Potter.

"My Lord?" She called out softly, hesitantly into the dense fog. She shook her head, why was she afraid? Her Lord had come for her! "My Lord!!" She called again, louder and stronger.

"I am here Bella." Came the slithering tones of her beloved master from behind her.

She whirled around, eyes brimming with tears at the mere sight of her Lord. He did look a little different, not as pale and he had gotten his nose back, but the eyes were the same crimson colour that she knew and loved. Throwing herself down on the ground infront of him, she felt her shoulders shake with barely suppressed gratitude.

"My Lord, you have come for me! I knew - I knew you would not abandon me!" She exclaimed, her voice hoarse with emotion.

He smiled an amused smile but his eyes were still smoldering, "Get up."

She rose, slowly, eyeing him in a worshipfull fashion.

"You have a command for me, master?" She asked eagerly, head still bowed.

"Not yet. I need information." Came the cold response, "Do you know how to get out of here?"

"No, my Lord."

"I didn't think so. If I don't know, I wouldn't suppose you could." He spoke more to himself than to her.

"Do you have a wand?" He asked next.

"Yes, sir, I have my spare. The walnut one was stolen by the mudblood. It was the one they used to -" She broke off here, reluctant to remind her lord of her failure in protecting his cup.

"Good." He nodded, ignoring her embaressment, "Do you remember how you came into this world?"

She paused a moment, recalling the unpleasent memory of entering this place, she remembered the hole.

"I think so, my Lord. There was a hole above me, but the fog covered it." She told him, finally looking at him.

Her master was looking at her intently, it wasn't an affectionate gaze but it seemed like he was pleased by her information. He was also rolling his old yew wand in his fingers. Suddenly he pointed it at her and she felt the world spin away.

She was standing in this same world and a glance to her left told her that her master was there too, his eyes were fixed on the space infront of them though, and she quickly looked back at it. A second later she saw her own body, crumpled and broken-looking with a strange green light glowing around the part of her where the blood-traitor's curse had hit home. Her limp form fell from a large hole in the middle of the fog, the hole was unsupported but through it she thought she glimpsed glowing lights of what might have been the Great Hall of Hogwarts. It stayed open for only a few moments, closing the instant her body hit the ground. The seconds passed and she stared at her limp form with an increasing sense of unease, her eyes flickered from herself to the man beside her, wondering what was going on in his head and wondering why they were still here. He had seen her memory of entering this world, what more did he want. If he was aware of her silent questions he didn't respond, still watching her splayed body for something. Finally she saw herself stir and sit up. It was barely a second before they watched her brush a hand over her Dark Mark gently. She glanced over at her Lord beside her to see a satisied smile curve his lips upwards.

"I see you are as devoted as ever, Bella." He said softly, "I have seen enough."

They left just as she rose to her feet and let out her scream of pure, concentrated fury and she noticed his sinister smile widen as he heard his own echo back and caught a glimpse of the wild happieness that stole across her face at the recognition of it.

Then they were back in the present, and the mist rushed back in, making her shiver. She wished more than anything that she could feel warm. It was a strange wish, normally Bellatrix Lestrange revelled in being cold as ice. Cold as ice in mind, heart and soul. Now she wanted warmth, her flimsy battle-worthy robes seemed sparse compared to a nice thick cloak. She would have even been satisfied with a hug from her dead husband, Rodolphus - anything to be warm. She glanced at her master, upset for once that it was just the two of them. He would never hug her. The thought was laughable. Being dead kind of sucked. She glanced at her Lord. He wasn't dead, was he? She shook her head impatiently, causing her tight black curls to bounce slightly, her Lord wasn't dead. Her Lord couldn't die, it wasn't possible.

"My Lord. Forgive me for being so impatient, but can't we leave now?" She pleaded cautiously.

"I would love to, but it seems that will take time." He drawled unpleasently.

"What -what do you mean my Lord?" She asked, pretty black eyes narrowed in confusion.

He looked at her carefully for a moment, seemingly making up him smind about something,

"I am dead, Bella." He confessed coldly, hands shaking with barely supressed anger as he said this.

Her haunting black eyes widened with shock and she actually stumbled back a pace. Her Lord, her immortal master...dead?

"No! Are - are you sure?" She gasped.

He scowled and his red eyes seemed to burn two paths right through her, "Quite."

She instantly dropped her gaze, thoroughly embaressed by her stupid question. She didn't look up as he continued,

"I wish to test something. As you are here, and have just betrayed your stupidity, you will be the subject of my test." It was an order, not a request.

He pointed his wand squarely at her face,

"Avada Kedavra."

Instantly she was thrown backwards many feet as pain exploded from within her, coursing through her veins and making her scream to the misted skies. She hadn't felt any pain when she'd died from that same curse so why now? This pain was far worse than any crucio she had ever known. Was this what it was like to die twice? She knew her master was absolutely furious about his death and was probably taking it out on her. Bellatrix didn't hate him, she was ready to take this. She would take this pain, and more, if it helped him.

Once it ceased, she attempted to clamber to her feet but fell back once, twice, thrice, before finally rising properly. Her breathing was heavy and quick, so that was what it felt like to die again. Even staying upright was an impossible task, as she found out when her knees gave out and she slumped forwards on the marshy ground, eyes closing. Bellatrix hated herself for showing such weakness to her Lord but it was all she could do to struggle into a more dignified kneeling position and try to stay concious.

"My Lord, I am sorry for failing you." She breathed fearfully.

"Failing me? I suppose you mean recently. When was this?" He asked calmly, regarding her with intrest in his crimson slits of eyes.

"I failed! I died, master, at the hand of the blood-traitor. I left you. If I could go back -" She explained, each word paining her more than the killing curse had to admitt.

"That was not punishment for dying, Bellatrix." He cut in, "After all, I am dead too."

The words were out before she realised,

"Was it Potter, master?"

"Yes." His jaw tightened at this and she saw an anger in his eyes that far surpassed anything she had seen before, "The whelp will pay dearly for that. And you will help me achieve that."

She grinned, jet-black eyes manic as they were in life, they would have their revenge yet.

"I am loyal, master."

"I know, Bella."