Chapter One: Like a bird in a tree
She sat on the strongest branch of the tree – well hidden behind the leaves –
and awaited the arrival of the death-eaters. She had known that the sigh had been given, when she had seen the pain on Coaxley's face. He was one of the many fools that lately had joined the ranks of Voldemort too quickly.
Dumbledore's death had divided the wizard community in three parts: the fools who were resisting, the fools who were joining, and the fools who stood waiting – she belonged to none of the three groups.
The waiters were the ones she despised the most, but they were quickly moving on to the other groups now.
She spat out. Fools were all of them. In fact, there were only four persons that she did not think of as fools. She was one of them and the second was now dead.
She pressed her lips together. Dumbledore had ruined it all. She had always disliked the man, but now…
The 'plop's of the arriving death-eaters interrupted her thoughts.
She could have named most of them – despite their masks. But some of them were young. Too young, she thought. It was a foolish thing to recruit them while they were too young. Their temper was not stable enough.
Finally the circle was closed and the death-eaters stood in awed silence – all eyes fixed on the little cottage on the hill. This meeting place was just one more sign that the Dark Lord had begun to feel much more secure. This 'hideaway' was not too secret and provided at least a little comfort.
At last the door opened and three men stepped into the moonlight. The Dark Lord, the Half-blood Prince and The Rat, she thought in amused anger. The little man was the most disgusting being she had ever met – including her doubtful acquaintances in Azkaban.
Serving the Dark Lord loyally was one thing, but in her mind it was doubtful that he would keep his oath to the one while having broken it to the other – but then again the Dark Lord had always told her that she had an 'interesting' view on integrity.
Her eyes tightened as they moved on to the 'Half-blood Prince' – the murderer of Dumbledore. She had never claimed to understand the tall, dark man, that now ranked second to the Dark Lord himself, but now he seemed even more mysterious to her.
He had dark rings under his eyes and seemed to stand even stiffer than ever before.
She had spent most of her time in Azkaban studying occlumency –and fancied herself of being one of the best now – but even without her newly earned skills she would have sensed the strong wall that he had built around himself. She wandered if even the Dark Lord could have broken through this kind of a defence.
Pettigrew had started his introduction by now. He seemed to be eager to please his master and was openly showing his jealousy towards Snape.
"…. And now I give you the one and only, our most intimate friend, your master, the Dark Lord." – "Fool !" she hissed in Parsel. She had always had the tendency to fall into the secret language when she was outraged.
Voldemort turned his head. Undoubtedly he had heard the word and was searching for the source of the sound.
She closed her mind for any intruder and bent back – further into the shadows. She was not willing to disclose her presence – not just yet. She was waiting for the opportune moment.
After a few half-hearted words of welcome from the Dark Lord that were received by his followers like water by a man dying of thirst, Voldemort turned over the time to Snape.
And although he appeared to be untouched by the 'business' part of this meeting, she knew all too well, that he was listening intensely to the reports that his loyal followers were giving.
Some of them were commenting on the state of the ministry of magic, others were discussing the subject of Hogwarts; a third group was responsible for terrorizing wizards, a fourth for killing muggels.
She was interested and yet getting bored as they moved from topic to topic like a well oiled machine. She knew Voldemort's capability to organize his evil business much to well and was more astonished by some signs of slackfulness than by the facts and figures of death-eater cruelty that were presented.
Several times her dark hair fell into her face as she silently chuckled when some of the younger ones almost fainted before they heard the redeeming "Well done" by Snape or the most seldom "Excellent" by their Dark Lord.
She had to admit that they were both a perfect team in leading the death-eaters further and further into dependability on the Dark Lord.
Compliments by the Dark Lord were most rarely given, but it 'could' happen –and this fact seemed to drive most of the death-eaters.
She knew from experience that the other ones were controlled by other not less effective means – none of them was to escape his mighty hand.
Finally the fifth group was reporting. Their issue was Harry Potter.
She had never seen the boy, but she had heard plenty of him – even inside of Azkaban.
It was obvious that the Dark Lord had far more interest in this subject than in all the others together.
Bellatrix LeStrange seemed to be the witch in charge… ".. but to my uttermost regret we seem to be unable to break through these protections, Mylord. It was just not possible !" The Dark Lord seemed perfectly calm, but she noticed a sudden tenseness in his eyes and the sudden appearance of Nagini was also not the best of signs.
Voldemort seemed to make a dramatic pause and then inquired in a soft voice: "It was just not possible ?"
He took his time to pet Nagini a few times that had climbed up his arm and was hissing in the direction of Bellatrix.
His voice seemed almost bored when he spoke again, but everyone could sense discontentment and some even hidden anger as he continued: "I am very disappointed, Bellatrix. I thought I had made a point in how much I trusted you by giving this task into your trustworthy hands."
He emphasized 'trust' whenever he mentioned it and Bellatrix seemed to melt before his eyes: "Yes, master… I remember. And I am very grateful to you, but…" – "Grateful ?" There was a cynic undertone in his voice. "I doubt that ! There are too many 'buts' I have to listen to, to even consider the fact that you could be grateful."
Bellatrix had turned white as snow and her eyes rolled around rapidly for any source of help she might find. They finally rested on Snape: "Please ! We really tried… I mean…" Her voice failed her. Snape curled his lips in disgust, but he came to her aid, "It was Dumbledore who set up the protection..." He paused, "Yet… - The only thing that we might consider in her favor is, that she is neither as talented nor as able to learn as many others… But she is willing…"
Bellatrix head flew back as if she had slapped her into her face, anger welled up in her eyes, but she lowered her head again. She knew she had no choice than to accept this way to escape punishment.
Voldemort seemed to consider this comment. Then he nodded his head, "Yes, maybe we should leave it at that."
"Mercy ? How weak you have become !" The hiss that came out of her mouth appeared to be no more than a rush of leaves, but since the wind had become completely still even the death-eaters realized the unnatural sound.
Even if they would have been in doubt the next word was clearly understandable for all: "Crutio !"
Bellatrix screamed in anguish and fell to the ground while the young woman in the black silk cloak jumped down from the tree with the grace of a cat.
She wore no mask and her face was fully visible in the soft light of the full moon. She heard her named whispered seemingly a thousand times as she stepped through the line into the circle, over the groaning Bellatrix and came to a halt in front of Voldemort.
For a brief moment even the Half-blood Prince gaped for air and even the Dark Lord seemed stunned.
She held his eyes. They both knew she would not bow but she did lower her head.
"Aurora !" The Dark Lord kissed her forehead, "What an absolutely enchanting surprise !" She looked up to those eyes that were so different from her own, into a face she had longed to see for so many years. She started smiling: "Father !"