Irrelevant

Bellatrix is in her element now. The Potter brat is dead and those who worshipped him are in mourning. True, some of her side, comrades are dead too - they don't matter though, because the Dark Lord is still alive. And yes, he was in pain for a minute after cursing the boy, but even that doesn't matter. No doubt some technicality, perhaps in Dumbledore's revered blood protection.

It doesn't matter either, that her sister and her family are backing away from the fight, backing away from serving the Dark Lord. He can punish them; they can grovel and maybe stay alive. She finds that she no longer cares so much about what will happen, because she can see it. The Dark Lord, once they get away from the rubble of the once-grand castle, will recover. She'll stay by his side, help him. They will resurrect their cause, as he once was. Maybe it'll involve a blood-soaked graveyard and the deaths of Potter's friends.

They're making their way through the forest and it's all she can do not to run ahead, triumphant. The Dark Lord would not go for such indignities; preferring instead to drag it out as long as possible to torment those on the other side.

Finally they reach their destination and the brat is laid on the ground, McGonagall screaming in horror and sorrow. Maybe the witch now understands that she has been on the wrong side; then again, she is old and despite her talents, she is only a half-blood. Not to mention that she was an avid supporter of Dumbledore. Perhaps the Dark Lord will be merciful and make it a quick execution.

She watches as his little friends, the Mudblood and blood traitors, react in the same way. The youngest girl looks like she wants to run to the body of her beloved, but can't.

The Dark Lord summons the Sorting Hat, dropping it on the Longbottom boy's head, and she wonders briefly why he's bothering with a school - then again, she knows the answer. The younger the student, the more impressionable, and the more easily important things are drilled into them. Then again, Potter was an exception to that rule - both of them.

The battle suddenly recommences and she's enjoying the idiocy of the Hogwarts protectors. Her Lord is right: they never do learn.

She watches as they battle, and now she picks out of the cacophony an elf's voice inciting the other elves to fight. Her side is suddenly faltering in its victory: Potter's death appears to have spurred students, staff and Hogsmeade residents on to fight. A number of her comrades fall before her eyes, and she joins the fray. Three little girls are opposite her, working in tandem, but even so it's an even match. Her Killing Curse narrowly misses the redhead and she's suddenly confronted by a furious redhead, how she imagines the little girl would look in thirty or forty years.

Mother Weasley is shrieking in rage and she laughs at her new competitor as she brushes the girls away and throws her cloak aside.

They duel, both aiming to kill, and she manages to conceal her shock as the floor grows hot and cracks. She taunts Weasley, not believing she'll manage anything more than a Stunning Spell. Certainly there'll be no Dark Arts from someone so close to Dumbledore.

Then again... Weasley is fighting as energetically as ever, defending her family, and suddenly it doesn't matter how pure her blood is or how dedicated to her cause, because blood traitors and Mudbloods have got the better of her. They robbed her Gringotts vault, and the immediate aftermath of that is one of the first times she felt fear. She realizes now, too late, that the Dark Lord is busy with his own battles, fighting three on one. He can't finish them off, and it means they pose a threat to him. He isn't going to come to her protection: her pure blood is no talisman against evil.

She cackles, and it sends a pang of deja vu through her. The same laugh that her blood-traitor cousin made before he fell through the Veil.

Still, it's too late now. In those few seconds she sees how it's going to finish. Someone will finish off the Dark Lord; Death Eaters will be rounded up, and she wonders briefly what will become of her sister and her family. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't make amends, couldn't even begin, because Molly Weasley, another blood traitor, sends a curse so perfectly it hits right over the heart.

She freezes instantly; there is no glory or joy to be had. It doesn't matter that she is or was his best lieutenant; when it matters most, he'll protect himself.

There's only a split second of knowledge before she hits the ground and knows no more.