Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter Universe.
The darkness of the battlefield was punctured with dying embers, flames and sparks as two figures walk towards each other, one approximately five foot and 4 inches tall, slim yet toned, her body hidden under dark black robes, a corset laced over her black blouse, purple accents and ribbon shinning in the dying lights. Her dark brown hair fell down her back and shoulders in waves smooth and perfect. Her brown eyes focused upon the individual almost struggling toward her. "Hermione, why?", "Simple Ronald" her reply came, his name as if dirt shot from her lips, "I joined my mother and my lover, I am Hermione Lestrange!"
"Lover?" Ron questioned, the reply came from behind him "Me" said a voice deep and calm, Ron could feel the pressure of high magic and the darkness of which almost suffocating him. Knowing that his life was slipping away he turned to face the owner of the voice, a man 5ft 8 inches tall, toned under robes so black the light almost vanished around the individual, a purple tie shone in contrast with his robes, his hair black as jet stone a collection of thin braids drawn together in a slack pony tail. His eyes gave away his identity in their shinning emerald, "Harry" Ron gasped as he felt the the tip of a wand press between his shoulder blades, with a smirk and the soft uttering of a female voice, Ronald Weasley died, his body slumped, hitting the dust of the ground with a sicking thud. Harry and Hermione took each other's hand, and with a noise barely above a whisper they disappeared in shadowy dust.
Bellatrix's reflection smiled back at her as she sat at her mirror, to the majority of the wizarding world it would be a unusual sight, Voldermort 's third hand showing a true warmth; but why shouldn't she, her husband had been killed on a mission and her Daughter had returned to her. She hummed gently as she felt the brush slip through smoothing out her hair her eyes taking in the face of the man holding it; tall, snake like and pale as white marble, one Thomas Movolo Riddle, again a strange sight to the majority of the wizarding world but what they knew where lies constructed by a devious man, Dumbledore had saved his own neck and allowed his lover; that being Grindelwald to perish during the war of the 1930's. She felt the magic in her blood tingle; it was like it was tickling her veins; her daughter and Boyfriend had returned home, Voldermort smiled at her, placing the brush down on the deep dark wood of the dressing table; he had felt the return of his apprentice. Silently Voldermort placed a kiss on Bellatrix's hairline, taking her hand in his she rose from her seat to meet the two people in all of creation who they regarded as family.