A/N: Hello there and welcome to my first ever story here on FanFiction. I hope that you enjoy it and that you will submit comments/reviews. I enjoy constructive criticism, but flames are unnecessary and rude. If you do not like something or disagree about something in the story please leave a civilized comment. Thank you very much and I hope that you enjoy!
Also, much thanks to my beta, . I couldn't have published this chapter with out you.
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me. However, there are certain characters that I have come up with here in order to advance the plot. Those characters are original characters and my thoughts alone.
The feral look within Bellatrix's eyes was simply horrifying. It could stun a person all its own if one should happen to meet her gaze. Yet, as the battle raged on, with spells being fired left and right throughout the large school, the Death Eater forged on ahead.
An unruly snarl escaped from the mad woman's lips as she happened across three little pests. With an untimely laugh she began to block their spells easily enough. After all, she was the Dark Lord's most trusted follower; what would she be if not the best? It was easy enough to fight three at once, just as her master was able to do.
"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"
The scream was a slight shock, but nothing she couldn't handle. The angered roar, bellowed from one Molly Weasley, was quickly followed by a jet of light. A green jet of light. The light of the killing curse.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Bellatrix's laughter soon became uncontrollable as a different shriek filled the Great Hall. The body of Molly Weasley fell with a harsh thud, the cheerful women's last look one of shock, her eyes glazed over.
"What a shame! Mummy's gone, just like Freddie!" Mad cackling seemed to fill the area as Hermione, Luna, and Ginny looked on in horrified shock.
"Mum!"
That was all poor Ginny was able to utter before the crazed Death Eater set upon her in a monstrous way.
"Crucio!"
Ginny Weasley dropped to her knees, writhing in agony as two other Death Eaters swept past and occupied the Mudblood and Miss Lovegood. And as the red-headed girl thrashed about in anguish, things were set into motion that shouldn't have happened.
Bellatrix Lestrange was supposed to have died.
Chapter One
Strange Lestrange
The night air was refreshing. Crisp and cool at the start of winter, and just the way she liked it. Currently, it was just beginning to turn cold outside. The wind became bitter towards all who stepped within its path, not caring that people would be forced to rush towards their destinations.
A tentative cough from the doorway caused Bellatrix Lestrange to turn slowly towards the fool who dared interrupt her musings. "What?" she snapped before quickly turning back to the cracked mirror before her.
It had been too long, much too long since the death of the Dark Lord, and she almost pitied the poor man. One might be surprised at how much of her previous devotion to the once great Lord Voldemort had fallen away. For too long had she been his shadow, savoring every bit of praise she could grasp, always hungering to prove that she was the most loyal, the most worthy of any type of affection to be bestowed. Once, she had been a Death Eater. She even had the mark to prove it—literally.
But this was no more. She was no longer a fool.
"My most gracious lady, I have news." Her reflection raised an uninterested eyebrow as the poor sap continued to grovel. "More Muggle loving wizards have been discovered."
Disgust crept across her face as her eyes narrowed to mere slits (that was at least one thing she had gathered from her previous master). "And?" she barked impatiently, her hands smoothing down the elegant folds of her robes. "This concerns me how?" The question was bitter and laced with malice as she again turned her gaze to the pathetic excuse of a wizard.
"D-didn't my lady wish t-to exterminate all who showed a shred of liking towards the Muggles?" the man stuttered.
An aggravated sigh escaped Bellatrix before she turned from the mirror. The pitiable man cowered in fear as she stepped forward ever so slowly.
Her nails gently skimmed the top of the unfortunate man's head. "Why yes, I did." She seemed to consider something before turning her coal black eyes upon the balding head. The smirk slid onto her face easily, causing the middle aged man to cringe away from her light touch. A fake look of sorrow melded with the smirk before she whispered, "Well, it seems as if you've outlived your usefulness." Alarm jumped up on the man's face as she grasped his head tightly, her long nails piercing his skull and drawing blood.
Screeches filled the room as blood pooled around her fingertips and trickled down the bloke's head. With a quick snap of her wrist, Bellatrix released the skull from her clutches, allowing the "loyal" follower to grasp it in agony. Then, with a sudden jerk of her chin, wand now in hand, the man fell lifeless upon the decorative rug.
All Lady Lestrange did was sniff in distaste before kicking the corpse with her foot. There would be no remorse even with death. So, with a last look in the aged mirror, she stepped over the dead body and walked towards the arched doorway.
Several witches bowed to her with a grateful glance. These were the followers she kept. Women were the only ones she felt she could even think about trusting. So, as she strolled past, she graced them with a polite flick of the wrist—a simple wave.
Once past, the disgusting frown formed as she began to remember Lord Voldemort. Perhaps her distaste for men was because of him. It was definitely something to ponder about later. She had other business to attend to now, such as striking fear into those who still opposed her.
Fingering the silver locket that hung around her neck, she finally reached the room she was heading for. Her 'Council Room,' as some called it. So, naturally, once it was entered, a number of witches came tottering in as well. Idly, Bella patted at her hair.
Her dark, lustrous hair was mashed up into a giant mass that resembled a rather distorted bun with chunks of hair falling down around it in unkempt rivulets. The slight curls sprung about, causing whatever expression she gave to look mad.
Crazed as she was though, Bellatrix Lestrange still held all the cards. One was either with her or against her. Whatever side they chose could prove to be fatal; siding with her gave one slightly more chance of not being on the end of a killing curse by her hand.
"A war is brewing," she announced lazily. "The Ministry does not seem to agree with me. They don't believe I'm cleansing the world."
The witch closest to the door, her newest devotee, cast a nervous glance around the room.
The cruel smirk was back as Bellatrix cackled. "Avada Kedavra!" she yelped: the witch fell to the floor. It was painfully obvious how many in the room forced themselves not to the look at the body. She then proceeded to sit down in the largest chair in the circular room.
"Is anyone else having second thoughts?" she murmured.
Wide eyes met her gaze as the remaining women shook their heads.
Trying to distract her mistress, a brave young witch named April Finnigan produced a tattered copy of The Daily Prophet. "Dark Mistress, there is an article which I believe may concern you." Bellatrix simply raised a skeptical brow before levitating the paper across the room and then glancing over the front page.
She yelled in outrage before throwing the paper into the nearby fireplace and toppling the chair she'd been sitting in over. Her nostrils flared wildly as Ms. Finnigan bowed her head in submission. "Damn," she spat angrily as she tried to regain control of her temper. "Useless cowards!" Her anger boiled over as she turned to the witch, casting the Cruciatus Curse as she yelled for the rest of them to get out.
The last thing April Finnigan uttered before blacking out was: "Poor Strange Lestrange."
Bellatrix hastily turned to the door, ordered the witch to be taken prisoner, and then promptly stomped out.
The main rule of serving under Miss Lastrange was: Never upset the Mistress. And sadly, the promising dark career of young Ms. Finnigan would most likely end. For she had accidentally brought up the worst subject possible: the Potters.
A/N: Hello again! Thank you for reading the first chapter in it's entirety. I hope you enjoyed it. Please comment/review.