House: Gryffindor, Category: Themed, Theme: Rejection, Prompt: Mother/Daughter, Word Count: 1253
Bellatrix is evil.
The world thinks she's insane, but her mind is perfectly intact. She knows what she's doing, what she leads people to believe; that she is a sadistic beast of a woman. And that's how she likes it.
The whole world knows where her devotion lies. The Dark Lord comes above all else, even her husband. There was a time when something threatened that absolute devotion, threatened to take a place above that magnificent man. But she got rid of it.
Now, it has come back to haunt her.
Her eyes are wide as she stares at the sweating and panting girl on the floor. The one Bellatrix was happily torturing, enjoying her screams.
She's a mudblood. It can't be her! It can't!
She had the knife at the girl's throat, letting the blade slide down to her arm, ready to begin carving that name, ready to hear her scream once more.
But she saw something in those terrified, pleading eyes, and felt something stir within her that she hadn't felt in seventeen years.
No, no. This can't be her!
Bellatrix quickly pushes herself back, crawling away from the pitiful girl. Staring.
It was so long ago that she gave up the child. There was a chance she would love that little girl, love her more than the Dark Lord. And that was a chance she just couldn't take.
"What's your name?" she asks her.
The girl simply moans.
But Bellatrix knows it, she must. It had to be on all those posters. But she didn't pay much attention to the name of Harry Potter's mudblood friend.
"What is your name?" she asks more clearly.
"No," the girl cries.
Bellatrix rolls her eyes. She's strong; this girl won't break even under torture, not even to tell her name.
She sighs. "This goes beyond everything you know." Then, she says the words she never has before. "I won't . . . I'm not going to hurt you anymore. I just want to know what your name is."
The girl looks confused, frightened, she tries to pull herself into a seated position, wincing in pain as she does. She looks at her, at Bellatrix, with wide eyes.
"This isn't so I can identify Harry Potter! I already know it was him who was captured with you anyway. Just tell me!" She's getting frustrated now. Why won't the girl just say her name?
"Hermione," she finally croaks.
Hermione. Such a unique name. Quite beautiful really.
But at the thought that she was raised by muggles, raised to believe she was a mudblood, red hot anger boils within her. How did she get so mixed up in this? How did it get so far that she had the sword, that she was captured, that she was tortured?
For a moment, the war doesn't matter, the Dark Lord doesn't matter. It's everything she was trying to avoid by giving her up.
Bellatrix notices her hands are trembling and she has this agonizing feeling within her. It's a pain she's never experienced. Guilt. She was torturing her own daughter.
"Hermione," she whispers, feeling out the name on her tongue. "Oh, there's so much you don't know."
"I don't understand," Hermione whimpers.
"Exactly my point," Bellatrix says, creeping a bit closer. "You're not who you think you are."
"Who are you to know?"
"The only person who really does. You're not a mudblood Hermione," she begins to explain.
"I am and I'm proud of it," the girl says defiantly.
Bellatrix tries to contain the swirl of anger that resurfaces. "Don't you dare say that again. You are a pureblood witch!"
"You're insane!"
"That's what people like to believe isn't it? Helps them sleep at night."
"What are you saying?" Hermione asks.
"Oh, I am very much sane." She doesn't get it; she doesn't understand! Bellatrix doesn't want to say the words; it makes it too real, too terrifyingly real. Once again, this mistake is threatening everything. But now that it has come back to haunt her, she must ensure this girl knows that she has a heritage to really be proud of.
She takes a deep breath and spits out the words: "You're my daughter."
Hermione's eyes widen. "No, I'm not. My parents are muggle dentists."
"I gave you up as a baby. How was I to know you'd end up with a muggle family?"
"No. You're lying. I'm not adopted," Hermione insists.
They never told her? Or maybe . . . they never knew themselves. The possibility of a memory charm enters her mind. Somebody did this on purpose!
Dumbledore.
He must have known. Somehow, he found out and made it seem as though her daughter was born and raised by muggles.
"Let me ask you this: have I ever lied before? About anything?" She's done a lot of horrible things and has always been very truthful. With all the crimes she's committed, not once did she deny any of it. She is the most faithful servant of the Dark Lord and the world knows it. There has never been any need for lies.
"That doesn't prove anything! You're manipulative, evil. You are not my mother!"
"Oh, but I am, my sweet. Do you know why I gave you up, why I had no choice? Because I looked into your eyes and saw love." And what an utterly terrifying moment it was. She'd never felt that before and hadn't felt it since.
She needs to prove it to her. Her daughter cannot go on thinking that she is of such low status! The charm. She will perform the charm to reveal the bond shared by a mother and daughter.
Bellatrix raises her wand once more and Hermione cringes backward.
"Parentum vinculum revelare," she whispers.
The girl is enveloped in a glowing, golden light, a thread of which winds back towards Bellatrix like a snake, wrapping its way up her wand to her wrist.
The two stay silent until the glow fades away.
"What was that?" Hermione asks timidly.
"A parenthood charm. It shows the bond. There's no denying it now," Bellatrix tells her.
"No, it's not true. It can't be." Hermione is in denial, her eyes flitting back and forth searching for any other explanation for what just happened.
But what now? That is a question she really should have explored before casting the spell. What does she want? This girl is her daughter, the one she thought she'd never see again, the one she gave up to prevent anything from taking higher priority in her life than her master. But now that she knows, there is something trying to burst forth. Could she actually want to be a mother? Could she want to be a family?
Before she has a chance to think about these possibilities, chaos ensues.
Potter broke out of the dungeons? How? Spells are flying, Hermione has disappeared and Bellatrix's wand is flying from her hand. This can't be happening! She just got her baby back and now Potter is going to ruin everything!
Dobby. She sees the elf and knows he is their way out. Bellatrix picks up the dagger from where she dropped it in her shock and throws it at the creature.
In the next moment, they are gone without a trace, leaving Bellatrix in a state of despair like never before.
An agonized cry escapes her lips and a newfound hatred for Harry Potter erupts within her. She will find her daughter and kill Harry Potter in the process.