A/N: This is a very short story that has been swimming around in my mind for a few days. It didn't turn out the way I thought it would but I'm happy with it anyway :).
Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter.
Everyone thought she was scared of him. And she was, to some degree. But she was afraid of the man he had become, not the boy he had been. The boy she had known was far away from the snake-like man he was today. Very far away, but at the same time so very close. That scared her.
She had grown attached to him, the teenage boy inside her diary. The boy who listened to her instead of teasing her like her brothers did. When people talked abut Bellatrix Lestrange, about how she was mad because of her master, because of the love Bellatrix had for him, the girl could understand her. She also knew what it was like, being trapped inside the web of lies that he had created. The lies that sounded so believable coming from his mouth. He was good at making people do things for him. How many people had he himself actually killed? Not many. Most of the murders were committed by his followers, not by him.
The girl had once visited Bellatrix in Azkaban. The ministry had taken her there, after the chamber, so she could see for herself what would happen to her if she choose the dark path. Bellatrix had been sitting behind the bars, her eyes fixed on the girl, while Fudge told her why they were there. They had talked for a little while, about him. The last thing Bellatrix had said to her was:
"I would give my life for a kind word from him."
They had walked away from the cell, leaving Bellatrix behind, and the girl had told the minister that she would never want to become something like that. Something as in Bellatrix Lestrange.
They had more in common than either of them wanted to admit. They both loved a dark twisted man, who in reality was nothing more than a boy who had never been loved. He claimed he was incapable of love. The truth was that he was afraid of love, because it made him feel weak and vulnerable. The dark lord wasn't supposed to have feelings. At least not any other kind of feelings than hatred and anger.
She had loved him, that teenage boy in her diary. Even though he just used her. When he summoned her to come down to the chamber she had felt a strange kind of happiness inside her. A happiness that shouldn't have been there. She never told anyone about the feeling, not even the flowers in the garden. The feelings were too private.
When she heard the news about the dark lord, that he had come back again, she felt the same kind of happiness. When she heard that several deatheaters had escaped from prison and saw in the paper that Bellatrix was one of them, she just knew that the older woman felt the same way she did.
They had met again, her and Bellatrix. They had been standing face to face, in the middle of the battle field, wands raised. They had looked at each other, neither one of them moving. Suddenly Bellatrix had raised her arm over the girl's head and shouted a curse. The girl had turned around, just in time to see a deatheater's dead body falling to the ground. When she turned around again, Bellatrix was gone. They became each other's guardian angels that night. They helped when the other one was in danger, never saying one word. They couldn't explain it, why they were doing it. They should have hated each other but they didn't. Not that they loved each other, but they had some kind of understanding that they couldn't explain. All because of him. The man that had had so much impact on their lives, ever since they had met him. She had loved the boy, but she feared the man. But sometimes, as Bellatrix had told her so many years ago in that tiny cell, the line between love and fear is very thin.
A/N: Thank you for reading and please review! You'll get a cookie if you do...:)