The war was over. The light had won… but what a victory it was. A Pyrrhic victory; the costs had greatly overcome the worth of it all. Harry Potter was dead, his two "Golden Trio" compatriots were dead, his classmates, teachers, friends… their corpses littered the battlefield. The other side hadn't fared much better, as was to be expected from the losing party. It seemed that whoever was still alive –and judging from the amount of dead that couldn't have been a lot of people- had left the place without a second thought about the fallen.

One person was still standing and looking over the battleground. Bellatrix Lestrange. She had taken her husband's name, but she was a Black by blood, and Blacks were survivors. The first war hadn't broken her, Azkaban hadn't broken her, and this wouldn't break her either. It was pure luck that she had survived the battle, but from now on her survival depended on her cunning. Limping she walked between the corpses, until she found the one she had been looking for. Not her master, despite all rumours. Her husband. She scowled at the corpse, but there was something oddly affectionate in her eyes. Despite what people said, the death of her husband touched a chord in Bellatrix.

Rodolphus Lestrange had been an idiot for sure, but he had been her idiot, and in her own way she had loved him. Perhaps she hadn't always showed that affection in a way the others understood, but she had loved him. Broken his nose twice, threatened to cut off his fingers, held him under the cruciatus from time to time... in retrospect, it was no wonder they had started speculating about her and the Dark Lord.

All that was in the past now... She couldn't linger here on the battlefield; soon the ministry forces would arrive to do the clean-up and body count. Bellatrix shook her head and closed the staring eyes of her late husband. The other corpses didn't do her much. She had fought alongside of them, or against them, but in the end all she had known about them was how good they duelled. Death eaters didn't make friends; the made allies. Bellatrix had known she could count on them to have her back in battle, but whether they had family, what they had done before the war, or what they planned to do when it was over? She had no idea. Probably for the better she decided when she came across more familiar faces.

At long last she found the Dark Lord, lying strangely close to his now dead nemesis, almost in an embrace. How odd… Bellatrix didn't touch either of them. She did feel a cackle in the back of her throat when she thought about what the ministry workers would think when they found them like that. She held it back though, out of respect. The Dark Lord had been her world, her sole purpose for almost 20 years; he deserved at least that.

She had been his most faithful, and didn't regret a moment of it. She wasn't crazy or obsessed, like so many thought. A little unconventional perhaps, when compared to her sisters, but not crazy. She had honestly believed in the dark side's cause, and wouldn't have betrayed or forsaken it for anything in the world. When she made a choice she stood by it no matter what. According to some that made her crazy, but Bellatrix liked to think it made her steadfast, persistent and reliable.

She shook her head again and continued over the battlefield until she found herself a good apparating spot. There were more people she had to check up on.

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Malfoy Manor looked as it always did, gloomy, dark and generally uninviting in all its magnificent splendour. Bellatrix had never really liked her sister's taste in anything, be it it men, robes or interior decoration, but even she had to admit that Malfoy Manor was an imposing building. Architecture was probably one of the only things she and Narcissa agreed on. The wards recognized her and let her in, and the doors opened for her by themselves. Carefully Bellatrix made her way in. If the ministry had invaded here already, it wouldn't do to make her presence known.

The Ministry hadn't set foot in the manor yet it seemed… but nevertheless it felt as if it had been emptied, left devoid of anything valuable. An involuntary shiver went through Bellatrix when she realized the atmosphere reminded her of Azkaban.

She first checked Narcissa's parlour, and found what she was looking for. Her sister, the beautiful and fair Narcissa, lying naked and mangled on her posh mauve carpet in a pool of blood. The sight didn't shock her as much as it angered her. Who had done this, and why hadn't that good-for-nothing husband defended her? Bellatrix found herself raging angry with Lucius Malfoy. The day of her little sister's wedding she had pulled the man aside and threatened that if anything ever happened to her baby sister she would find him and make his life hell. It seemed that her warning hadn't left enough of an impression…

She carefully closed her sister's eyes, like she had done with her husband's, but it didn't make the dead woman look any more peaceful. Jagged cuts decorated all of her body, her limbs were sprawled in odd angles, a bone protruded from her shin, and between her legs there were some very telling wounds and bruises. Bellatrix made sure to remember every detail of the scene, because if she found Lucius alive she would force him to watch that memory before she tortured the life out of him. With that in mind she left the scene and continued her search through the house. The next body she stumbled upon was her cousin Draco, lying on the floor in the great dining room, a victim of Avada Kedavra. At least they hadn't mutilated him like they had her sister, she thought. When she looked up, she startled. At the table, in his usual seat, sat Lucius Malfoy. He sat straight, his wand in front of him, his hands motionless on the tabletop. If she hadn't seen him breathe from the corner of her eye, Bellatrix would have sworn he was dead. The look in his eyes was as vacant and empty as Draco's had been. She pointed her wand at him.

"What has happened here, Malfoy?"

No reaction. She approached him, held her wand to his temple, grinning viciously and breathing next to his ear like she knew unnerved him greatly.

"Do I have to cruciate it out of you, Lucy?"

Still no reaction. There was not a spark of recognition in his eyes. It was making Bellatrix annoyed, and an annoyed Bellatrix was never a good thing.

"What happened to Cissy, Malfoy. Answer me."

The blonde aristocrat seemed to ignore her completely, and so she shrugged and said.

"Your call. Crucio."

Muscle spasms made Lucius fall off his chair, but despite that… he didn't scream. Bella knew her sister's husband to be quite a bit of a wimp, so that was all but normal. She lifted the curse and studied the man from close-by. He was lying on the floor now, but his eyes were still as unseeing as before.

"Now what have they done to you?"

She just wanted to try legilimency, when she heard the telling noises of footsteps and voices in the hallway. The ministry had arrived. Her decision was quickly made; she needed to avenge her sister, and only Malfoy knew who had killed her. He would simply have to come along until she found a way to extract the information from him. She grabbed him roughly by the arm and apparated out of the manor.

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The cabin was supposed to be her getaway. Fourteen years of Azkaban had taught her many things, but the foremost was that she never wanted to go back there again. Therefor she had taken her precautions. A small cabin in a muggle forest, warded to be absolutely invisible to any eyes be it muggle or magical ones, with all the basic necessities present. She had had too little time to bring everything properly in order, but at least it was a safe place. When Bellatrix apparated in, she simply dropped Lucius to the floor. Other than the dull thud when he hit the planches, the man didn't make the slightest sound. She ignored him and looked around. The place was dusty and scarcely furnished, but it would do. It was far better than a prison cell, at least. She went to wash herself, and when she emerged from the bathroom she felt lots better. The curse that had hit her leg was one she didn't know, so about the limp wasn't much to do, but a little numbing charm did wonders for the pain. Having washed all the battle dirt off her, she almost felt like humming a tune… until she saw that the elder Malfoy was still lying where she had dropped him. Feeling annoyed again she kicked him in the side.

"Get up you arse!"

No reaction. Restraining herself, Bella pulled him up again and set the man down on the couch. Once again her eyes met his absent look. For a moment she wondered if perhaps they had summoned a Dementor and performed the Kiss on him… she discarded the thought when she realized the dementors had been on their side. Nevertheless… if he had somehow lost his soul, legilimency would tell her.

"Legilimens."

Bella got pulled into Lucius' mind, proving her that whatever was wrong with him he still had his soul. The man's mind made no sense, however. There was an awful lot of blank space, dark walls, echoes of voices that sounded familiar, vague images she couldn't quite discern… when she pulled back, she realized that someone had really thoroughly wrecked her brother-in-law's brains. They had simply killed Draco, they had raped and mutilated Cissy, but what had they done to him? It wasn't the cruciatus curse; Bellatrix knew first-hand what a mind damaged in torture looked like, she often legilimensed her victims to see the effects of her handiwork. This was very different. It made her think a bit of a botched obliviation, or damage done by long-term imperius.

"Well, it seems we'll have to find another way to get information from you. I'm going to bed. The couch is all yours."

With that, the witch retreated to the bedroom. All this time she had been oddly calm, but now, lying in her bed and finally safe, the magnitude of it all came crashing down on her. They had lost the war. Her master was dead. Her husband was dead. Her sister and her cousin were dead. She was the sole survivor… not counting Lucius, but she doubted he counted as surviving in that breathing corpse state of his. For once in her life, Bella wished she could cry. She wished she could cry and honestly mourn the loss of her family, the loss of her purpose, the loss of everything she considered valuable in life… The tears didn't come. It seemed that life had no tears to spare for Bellatrix Lestrange. There was nothing left for her to do than what she always did: surviving. Whether it was her parents' house, Azkaban, or this cabin, it always came down to that. Blacks didn't live, they survived.

(Author's Notes)

So, this is a new kind of thing for me. Angsty and all that. I really, really want your feedback. Anyone who knows me or my general story style knows that this is a bit of a new thing for me and I want to know if I'm doing it right. So please?

The concept of "two lone survivors" has been used before, I know... but I wanted to give it another spin. Hope you like. This plotbunny came into existence when I was reading "When Irish Eyes Are Crying", which features the theme of 2 survivors, but is very different from this storyline. It is also very awesome, so everyone, read that!

Once again, PLEASE REVIEW! Questions, Comments, Critics, Compliments... Love it all!