The Chase
The bitter wind battered fiercely against her bloodied cheek sending an icy chill down her spine. Her left arm; now hanging limply by her side, seared with pain as she desperately tried to regain her balance. It had been dark for some time now, but the dank chill was only now setting in.
A bright flash of green light soared past her; missing the hooded woman ahead by mere inches. A valiant cry echoed from behind her,
"How's the werewolf going to fare when his little maiden winds up dead?"
Rodolphus sped past her, his black cloak billowing in the wind. His wand was raised; ready to strike again.
The woman ahead made no indication she had heard the taunts or indeed that she had just narrowly escaped death, instead she appeared focussed on the boy who flew alongside her; strategically covering him from behind.
A loud crack of thunder erupted, echoing loudly amongst the dark grey clouds which now surrounded them. Rain began to fall heavily, obscuring her vision, but Bellatrix remained undeterred; she had just one purpose in mind.
Flashes of lightening lit up the sky, illuminating the four figures that soared above. The woman and boy ducked suddenly, disguising themselves amongst the storm clouds.
"Take the left!" yelled Rodolphus, who was now only at an arm's length.
Bellatrix could barely hear him over the wind and rain, but she took lead from his own movement to the right.
Turning swiftly, she glimpsed a flash of colour between the eerie mass of clouds; and she gripped her wand; eagerly waiting to strike once more. The piercing pain of the cuts on her cheek and left arm had been forgotten amongst the adrenalin that now beat within her; she was so close; this was it.
A bolt of lightning struck where Bellatrix had been only seconds before; the sky was alight once more, the woman and boy now visible a few feet below.
Rodolphus had spotted them too and his broom now charged toward them, his wand emitting curses and spells in every direction, but Bella knew that ultimately this fight was not his.
She dove, twisting her way between the clouds and rain; the wind was beating so loudly in her ears she could no longer hear anything else. A burst of blue light surged from the tip of Rodolphus' wand, striking the back of the woman's broom; she faltered slightly before recovering herself. The boy was shooting curses toward Rodolphus from his own wand though missing repetitively; if this one was indeed Potter then he certainly was not on form tonight.
Bellatrix raised her own wand, a wicked snarl forming upon her exposed face; her mask now long gone.
"Crucio!"
Her voice bellowed through the night sky, and the flash of light hurtled toward the woman; she ducked, knocking the boy from harm as she did so.
Bellatrix sneered, though she was not surprised; in fact she had expected as much. While the woman was indeed the scum child of a blood traitor; a half-blood, the bride of a half-breed; Black blood still pulsed through her veins, feeding her avid determination and skill. Bellatrix had known this would not be easy, and yet this delighted her even more. She did not want it to be swift and quick, she wanted it to be long, drawn out, intense, exhilarating. She wanted a battle; something memorable; Nymphadora Tonks was to suffer before her death, therein lay the thrill.
A Confundus charm raced toward her, and Bellatrix herself ducked; entering the haze of the storm cloud bellow. The wind and rain had eased slightly and she could hear the shouts and shrieks of Rodolphus nearby.
"Protego! Furunculus! Ennervate!"
The incessant casting of spells and the persistent bolts of lightning proceeded to light up the sky in a dazzling array of colours. There was a crack of thunder close by; the very sound of it threatened to break the sky in two, but Bellatrix sped on. Her heart was beating hard against her chest and her eyes remained transfixed on the woman who now soared metres above. The woman and boy were yet to notice her; their concern remained with Rodolphus who flew threateningly over them, relentlessly hurling and deflecting curses. She could easily kill the two of them now, well the woman at least. The boy, if he was indeed Potter, which given the display he had exhibited thus far, Bellatrix highly doubted, was the Dark Lord's, and his alone. The woman though was hers. The instinct burned within her, all she had to do was raise her wand and utter those two fateful words; yet the desire was not there. There was no satisfaction in killing her now, not when her back was turned; not when she would be unaware that is was Bellatrix Lestrange who had struck her.
One of Rodolphus' curses hit the boy's broom, shaking it violently; he panicked, frantically attempting to retain his stead. The woman showed no sign of fear as she paused in her retreat to circle protectively around the boy; ceaseless bursts of light emanated from her wand, speeding upward toward the attacker.
Rodolphus, undeterred by the curses and hexes hurtling at him, plunged toward his prey; his gaze unfaltering.
"Ready to die Potter!"
The rain began to fall ferociously once more; tiny balls of hail pelted rapidly upon the four of them. The boy had stabilised himself; though terror consumed him once more as Rodolphus surged ever closer. Alarmed, the boy charged downward, the woman following closely in his wake, both ignorant to the threat which lingered below.
The adrenaline which had been fiercely pumping within Bellatrix intensified. This was it, it was now. Dashing upward, her wand raised, she readied herself. This was the moment; Nymphadora Tonks would meet her end, an untimely death; a loss that, no doubt, the werewolf and her worthless blood traitor mother and mudblood father would wretchedly mourn for...
"Stupefy!"
A sharp bolt of lightning struck inches from Bella's broom. The light blinded her momentarily, stunning her, and for a fleeting second she was sure it was she who had been hit by the jinx. Though, as Bellatrix recovered herself she realised it were not so.
A hooded figure soared rapidly toward her; showing no concern for a fellow Death Eater who was plummeting from the sky into the grey stormy clouds below; the intent of the jinx now apparent. Rodolphus remained ahead, still brutally in pursuit of the woman and boy. Bellatrix cursed loudly, realising her chance had just been lost; she swiftly turned her broom, advancing again; the exhilaration building inside her once more. This set back was just part of the thrill. There was still time.
"Go Back!"
The rain and hail was ruthlessly lashing upon them all, making it initially impossible to discern from whom the cry had come. Though, as he speedily surged onward, swiftly pulling up alongside her it became evident that it was Yaxley who had spoken.
"This isn't Potter!"he yelled, as thunder roared close by, violently shaking the surrounding sky, "The Dark Lord's gone after the real one. It's just a decoy!"
Bellatrix ignored him as she crashed through the rain and hail, her robes now drenched and dripping. She had indeed suspected that the boy was not Potter, but this fact did not matter to her in the slightest. It was the woman she was after, not the boy.
Yaxley sped after her, "Bellatrix! Bella!", but he received no response. Lightning flashes struck nearby, and wind and rain surged around them; as a bolt of lightning hit the back of his broom – sending him propelling through the sky, Yaxley spun, abandoning his own chase; it was not his responsibility to reel in the Lestranges, if they wished to pointlessly pursue that was their problem.
Bellatrix continued to soar through the air; hot on the tail of her husband and their prey. The blood was pumping through her, she could almost smell success; it was so close, soon Nymphadora Tonks would be nothing but a former memory. Another minute or two and she'd be in range once more. Though, as Bella rapidly flew; closing in on the woman and boy; her wand wielding arm raised – ready to in part a final blow; her heart suddenly sunk.
Rodolphus seemed to lay sprawled, momentarily suspended in mid air, before he, followed by his broom began to fall; speedily crashing into the stormy abyss below. The woman and boy both gave a fleeting glance back, before speeding on – themselves disappearing into the clouds ahead. Bella could feel herself shaking; torn between her desire and her duty. A moment's hesitation was all she needed however, and within seconds Bellatrix too had descended, frantically searching the skies below for any trace of her husband; the thrill of the chase now replaced with apprehension and concern.
Not allowing herself to contemplate the worst, yet cursing herself for hesitating nonetheless, Bella sped through the storm clouds, rapidly heading further for the ground. Her heart was beating once more, though this time it was not the ecstasy and adrenaline that was forcing her on, it was fear; fear that if she didn't soldier on, the very worst was in store. Suddenly she was most aware of her mortality; the cuts upon her cheek and left arm began to throb again; every inch of her ached – though somehow she knew if she could just find her husband it would all be okay.
The closer to the ground she came; the thinner the rain and storm clouds seemed to become. Bella could feel herself shaking once more; whether due to the wind and cold, or because of the growing dread mounting inside her, she did not know. The pit that had formed at the base of her stomach was rising – not since Azkaban had she felt such terror. But then, there he was. His motionless body slumped amongst the branches of a tall oak tree.
Relief engulfed her, as Bellatrix swooped toward the oak; clumsily making her way through the branches and toward her unconscious husband. His face was covered with cuts and bruises; and his robes torn, but there was a pulse nonetheless and Bellatrix delicately manoeuvred him from the tree's grasp; pulling him up onto her own broom.
"It's alright", she whispered, more to herself than her husband, "it's all going to be ok."
Rodolphus' broom was nowhere in sight, but his wand was tangled in branches nearby.
"Accio", muttered Bella, pocketing the wand in her robes and adjusting Rodolphus' weight upon her own broom. She could feel his breath upon her neck – it was shallow and strained and Bella knew that she didn't have much longer till it would be too late. The sooner they returned to Malfoy Manor, where Narcissa could work her healing magic, the better. Without another moment of hesitation, Bella kicked off from the tree top, keeping a firm grip on her wounded husband.
The girl may have eluded her this time, but next time she would definitely meet her end.