A/N I do not own Harry Potter.
Bella smiled; a cruel twist of her lips that could barely be called a smile. She was free, free from Azkaban. She and her friends would honor their fallen master's memory tonight. While they couldn't kill Potter or his relatives, they could kill his friends' families. Bella, Rodolphus, Rookwood, and Jugson were to kill the Grangers. Rastaban, Travers, Mulciber, and Dolohov were to kill Arthur, Molly, Charlie, Bill and Muriel Weasley.
She transfigured a few stones into broomsticks. She threw back her head and laughed; doing magic after so long felt wonderful, so thrilling to have such a long-forbidden treat. She and her partners flew off into the cloudy air, the mist on their horrendously dirty skin feeling delightful. They landed at a small but well-kept Muggle home. Bellatrix whispered a silencing charm to make sure the neighbors wouldn't notice anything unusual. Another flick of her hand blasted the front door down.
"You know the plan," Bellatrix hissed. It had planned since it had been known who Potter's friends were. Draco had helped with that part. Bella smiled a happy smile. Her nephew was shaping up to be a fine young man. Jugson transfigured a book into a camera. The foursome crept down the hall pushing doors open. Rookwood began incendioing objects that seemed to have sentimental value. Rodolphus and Bellatrix found the Grangers and yanked them out of bed.
"Who are you?" the male asked. Bellatrix cackled in response.
"Your worst nightmare," she whispered. "Crucio." The man howled with pain. "You do not get to ask questions." She used a charm to slice his skin into ribbons, doing it slowly enough so he would feel it all. The woman shrieked.
"Robby!" Bella swished her hand at the woman. She used the same curse, accidentally slicing the woman's head off.
"Pity," said Bella. "I was looking forward to playing with her. I guess I'll have to play with you. Crucio." The man, Robby, began screaming again. "Ugh," she moaned. "Muggles are no fun. Why did we give the job of the Weasleys to the other ones?" Rodolphus shrugged. "Damn. Avada Kedavra."
"Incendio Maximus," Rookwood shouted. The foursome set off on their brooms as the fire began to spread, landing in a field, the sun just starting to show on the horizon line.
"Jugson, do you have the pictures?" asked Bellatrix.
"Of course I do, I'm not stupid," snapped Jugson, handing the photos to Bellatrix. He smirked. "Unlike someone I could mention."
"What?" snarled Bellatrix.
"The hippogriff incident, the time you tried making a cake, the—"
"Shut up, Jugson," Bella fumed; a pink tinge on her cheeks. "We'll mail the pictures to the brats to show Potter."
"When are Rasty, Dolohov, Travers and Mulciber going to get here?" whined Rookwood.
"Now," said a voice from behind them. "Be patient, Rookwood. It is a good skill to have." Rookwood jumped.
"Good," purred Bellatrix. "You remembered to photograph it, right?"
"Of course." Rastaban gave his sister in law the pictures. Bella giggled as she conjured an envelope, quill, ink, parchment, and owl. She carefully placed the pictures in the envelope. She picked up the quill and wrote a short note.
Potter,
You were warned about hanging out with the wrong sort.
-L, L, L, T, M, D, R, J
Still giggling, Bella put the letter in with the pictures. She attached the envelope to the owl's leg, stroking the bird. The bird hooted and then flew off.
A/N I love writing Bellatrix. Do you think I should make one-shots of Bella and the Hippogriff and Bella and the cake? Please review. It does affect when I update. Think about it: if you write, which would you work on first—the story with eight reviews or the story with two?
Denim.
