A/N: Written out of procrastination. Enjoy, and if you have anything to say, please do. Thank you. :)
Her Last Thoughts
They say Bellatrix Lestrange had died with a smile.
There was the green light, a sight she had see countless times before. A cackle escaped her lips, a failing one, as she knew the end was near—and she was glad, for the path towards the end had been such a long and trying one. The green light moved ever slowly in the air (why was the end always the longest?), and the her blood-stained robe had somehow become a red silken gown… and there she was, in that ball where she had met the man she was now dying for. A romantic she was, and the deaths committed—she hoped and hoped for each one of them to understand it had been for love.
Love was a weakness, oh yes, but it had been her strength too.
So she cackled, they would never understand, would they? She was not born deranged, no—she merely sought for his lips to be pressed against hers; but then those lips had turned cold, and skin so frighteningly pale—his life had vanished before her eyes, and her Lord—was he still her Lord?
Had she fought for a phantom, a phantom lost?
And she now knew (no, she had known all along) those lips would never touch hers, never once, never ever. A fool she had been, a fool in love.
Mother had always told her to stop reading those books that had been her little escapades. "Too full of life, this girl," her mother had once groused, once long ago. And those words now danced before her, like snakes they slithered around her neck, and then her breath slowly began to heave away into the wind…her life fading… the green light had vanished, she was falling, falling…falling...
She should have realized...
He had always been skirting away from life, while she had been life.
Mmm, death seemed pleasing. And how ironic, she thought (her last thought), his best lieutenant had never been frightened of death's heavy embrace…
She smiled.
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