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Justified Warriors

To use the killing curse you need not have hatred consume you, only a deep sense of conviction in what you are doing. That it was what you were supposed to do. And that Bellatrix had. Because she was a warrior and warriors do what is needed to be done.

As Bellatrix Lestrange looked down at the spawn of her sisters unholy union with the Mudblood she couldn't help but feel almost disappointed. She had expected the final battle between the two of them to be extraordinary, one for the books. She had heard much of her niece's talents, many formidable Death Eaters had faced her many not walking away from the encounters. But the child didn't even notice her coming the girl clung to her dead husband slight body shaking with sobs. She approached her niece with a look oddly reminiscent of a cat who has finally caught the mouse.

As Bellatrix watched, the girl seemed to notice the striking figure looming over her. Nymphadora looked up at her chestnut eyes widening in fear, shining with tears that she refused to shed in front of the enemy. Bellatrix felt a strange pang that she had never expected to feel.

She looks so small like a child her face whispered of times long past times of smiles, walking hand in hand through the garden, playing dolls under the old oak tree, when the world seemed so simple, no Azkaban, no running away with Mudbloods just family, just sisters. The sisters had always bore a striking resemblance to each other, and the child seemed to have picked up many of there features. Making her look like Andromeda, like Bella.

Bellatrix never wavered, never second guessed what she was doing. Even before madness set in once she made a decision she stuck to it. But as she looked into the child's eyes still defiant even with her wand long gone, she couldint help but feel remorse for the girl who has just watched her husband die, who knew that she will never again lay eyes on her little half-breed child.

The girl shouldn't have come; she should be home with her baby.

But Bella knows if it was her she wouldn't be.

They are quite alike both strong women fighting for there respective causes. They weren't meant to be housewife's staying at home playing homemaker and waiting for there husbands to stroll in, no they were meant to be warriors. Woman like Bellatrix and woman like Nymphadora weren't meant to live into ripe old age they were meant to die valiantly in battle.

Under any other conditions they would make great allies.

But they aren't they are enemies they've both made there choices, and it was time to follow through on them.

"Are you ready to join your half-breed husband?" Bellatrix taunts forcing out a high cruel laugh. Not for a moment letting her cold facade fall to show her inner conflict.

But as her lips say the words her heart says 'run get away from here go home to your child, don't make me do this'.

The girl didn't respond she just glared up at her with brown eyes so like her blood traitor sister she almost cringes.

Nymphadora seemed to realize that Bellatrix was provoking her looking for a fight that the girl most certainly couldn't win. So as her final act of rebellion Nymphadora turned her hair Gryffindor red and didn't move a muscle.

"Are you ready to die Half-Blood?"

She cocked her head to the side with a thoughtful look on her face "Ready? No I don't think so. But I am prepared; my son is safe The-Boy-Who's-Kicked-All-Your-Asses is still fighting. If this is my time I'm cool with it. But are you ready to die Bellatrix? Cause' we both know that neither of us is leaving this castle alive."

Bellatrix was completely stunned she looked at her niece wand still pointed at her temple. She had never contemplated defeat, so many times she had come close but it never seemed real. Her words struck home and Bella realised for the first time even if they won the war there was very little chance of her being around long enough to enjoy it.

She had always mocked the foolish Gryffindor Martyrs who gave up there lives for there causes without a second thought , stupidly running into battle with misplaced bravery, no sense of self preservation. Was that her was she just another Martyr out of all those who had died for the Dark Lords dream?

No she was his most loyal.

Even if she died she would be remembered her Lord would make sure of that. To them she was a villain but to her fight she was a hero.

A slightly triumphant grin graced the half blood face at having gotten to her aunt.

But Bellatrix knew what she was meant to do; she had to prune the family tree.

She took a deep breath and whispered the words she had said so many times. The words that produced a blinding flash of green light and made her niece slump gracelessly against the body of her half breed husband.

No one noticed how she hesitated.

No ones noticed that she could not look the girl in the eyes as she died.

No one noticed the single tear that slipped from the corner of her eye.

No one noticed the brief moment the madness slipped from her features.

And not a soul noticed when insane, bloodthirsty, murderer Bellatrix Lestrange swiftly leaned down to close her nieces lids.

To use the killing curse you need not have hatred consume you, only a deep sense of conviction in what you are doing. That it was what you were supposed to do. And that Bellatrix had. Because she was a warrior and warriors do what is needed to be done.


AN: Sooo what do you think? Please Reveiw!