I haven't decided how to continue BtDK yet so I am uploading this to prove that I haven't given up. So this is Draco visiting Bellatrix's grave.
Disclaimer: Don't own
Her grave wasn't as empty as he thought it might have been, Bellatrix hadn't died in some fiery explosion or been blasted into tiny pieces; no she had died because she wasn't fast enough, had gotten cocky and miscalculated the strength a mothers love carried. Molly Weasley had more than proven she wasn't to be messed with when she killed his aunt as repayment for endangering her daughter.
Though why he was here now confused him, he had never really loved Bellatrix and she hadn't loved him, they had a mutual understanding of a need to get along for his Mother's sake, that was as deep as their sentiment ran. Sure the familial bond was there and his aunt had only done what she though was right, protecting him for the worst of the Dark Lord's wrath and helping as best as she could without putting herself at risk; though he doubted that was for his sake as much as it was for Narcissa's – Bellatrix loved her younger sister, though she never showed it openly.
Why am I here? Draco asked himself. The woman's tombstone was black marble, her name engraved in silvery nondescript – Bellatrix Pandora Lestrange. Nothing else, no birthday, not cute little sentimental things like beloved sister or bullshit like that just simple and elegant. She would have liked it, would have been proud of his adamant demand that there was to be no silly fanciness, or at least he liked to think she would have been proud.
He stood staring blankly at her headstone; the sun was beginning to set casting ominous shadows from the surrounding trees along trim green grass, the surrounding graves had bouquets of flowers and other small presents yet his aunts was bare, he blinked. Heaving a quiet sigh, Draco waved his wand and allowed a small bouquet of blood red thorny roses to appear on her grave, resting against her headstone.
Bellatrix had always enamoured with blood and anything to do with the thick red which symbolized life; especially when it was gushing from wounds, whether her own or somebody else's it didn't matter. So long as she could see the life source spilling, forming puddles on cobblestones or drip, drip dripping into water and watching the once so clear water becoming a foggy crimson she was happy.
Draco raised his grey eyes heavenward and breathed out through his nose; "You know Bellatrix, I tried to resent you. I really did."
He stared at the black marble as if it was supposed to reply.
He let out a bark of laughter, "Didn't work did it? I wouldn't be here otherwise; you know I can't bring myself to hate you Bellatrix, I want to, but I can't. Your actions, to you at least, were justified – and I can," he sucked in a breath, "I understand you were just doing what you believed in, what you thought was right."
Draco could almost imagine his aunt's sardonic laugh, "But murder is wrong Bella," using the pet name his mother liked to use for her, "And you hurt so many people, so many and you just laughed in the face of their pain – because that's who you are – were – you loved to watch peoples pain, revelled in it because that's what you loved."
He tilted his head, white blonde hair fluttering in the light breeze, "Some people love chocolates, family, holidays but you; you loved pain, blood, darkness. It's what made you unique, set you apart from everyone else, even the Dark Lord; he just wanted power, but that didn't interest you did it? You just went along so you could play freely."
Draco sighed, "I'm sorry I wasn't more insistent when it came to visiting you in Azkaban, I should have been. Perhaps me and you could have had a better relationship; because I know you loved me, just like you loved my Mother and you truly didn't want anything to happen to me. I'm sorry Bellatrix."
Draco looked once more at the grave before turning and disapparating.
Just sort of a filler whilst I figure how to do the next chapter on Bella the Dragon Keeper, review?