This is my first fic in a while, and Ive been reading quite a few Bellatrix and Andromeda fics and it inspired me. I always thought that the leaving of Andromeda contributed to Bellatrix's insanity and so came about this fic.

As always, reviews are really appreciated, and I hope I can write more often now :D

Thanks, Megan 'xoxo

Smashing could be heard all around as bits of the ancient building were thrown across the once grand corridors that now scattered their elaborate decorations over the floor. It was the kind of environment she thrived in. Chaos everywhere and beautiful red rubies coating various objects. Yes, it was definitely the kind of place that caused that infamous manic smile to grace her twisted lips. With a flick of the crooked wand that lay so comfortably in her hand, a gargoyle was thrown into the air and hurled at the opposite wall as it let out a final cry. She laughed as she recalled hating those stupid gargoyles with their ever polite greetings and 'good days'. 'What if I don't want to have a good day?' she had always wondered as the animated stone called after her with a pleasant goodbye. Well, she smirked. Who had the final unwanted goodbye now? The infuriating lump of enchanted stone. Stepping over it without a second glance, she continued on her path of revenge leaving just another casualty of her wrath behind to crumble.

Weeps and howls of inner pain could be heard all around as friends saw friends fall. Mothers saw children taken before their time. Brothers were left with nothing but childhood memories and blank eyes. It was these cries that urged her on, her thick heels tramping over the broken stone and grandeur of her years in the hell hole. As she saw the son-in-law of her long forgotten sister lying beneath her feet, a sickening laugh came out of her mouth, her eyes sparkling as she looked upon his pitiful bloodied features. There he was. Where he should be; beneath her feet. On the floor where the filth and the scum of the earth tended to be. Oh yes, it was true. Occasionally a particularly stubborn rat escaped his confines of the sewer and made his way up through the elite streets of wizard kind but let this be a lesson to them all. The grime is always washed away. Sooner or later.

With her dirtied shoes, she gave a swift kick to his side and moved on through the debris of destruction. People passed her in a blur chasing after foes or friends, seeking an individual to fight or a soul to find. Although she was a notorious death eater and had taken many of the lives of the people who lay scattered on the floor, no one attempted to attack the crazed woman as she sauntered through the ruin her cause had made. Perhaps it was the look in her eyes. Perhaps it was the fact they knew they would not win. Perhaps it was because, as she walked slowly, no one noticed the witch who was not rushing and attacking but had an air of complete coolness about her manner. And after all, why should she not? By the end of this monumental night, she would be once again sitting on her throne beside the Dark Lord himself. As the long corridor came to an end and opened into a larger stairwell, her pace quickened. Although she would readily attack anyone who dared practice magic and didn't have pure blood coursing through their veins, there was one person who she sought. One person who she blamed for everything.

Flashes of every colour filled the larger space. Ancient portraits fell as their inhabitants raced from frame to frame encouraging anyone that passed them. The noise was deafening as cries and screams of anger were thrown along with the spells that were blasted out of wands. Her peers were scattered with blood traitors and mudbloods, their black cloaks falling off one shoulder, their masks thrown aside. There was no need to hide their identities. Everyone knew who they were. They all knew their names, which is a lot more than could be said for the countless nameless bodies scattered around her feet. Where they belonged. A voice called out to her and she turned to finally see a flash of red and almost familiar brown eyes catching her. The shocked call of 'Mum' has travelled from voice to face as they faced eachother. Recognision after a simple mistake registered. And then she was after her like a vulture after food in the desert.

Eventually, they came to a quieter corner of the castle. A classroom that had already been destroyed, its desks lay thrown to the side, quills were sticking out of everywhere and ink splattered the walls. The two women turned to face each other, both breathing heavily after their fierce chase.

'Well well well. Here we are' the older woman spat, her eyes narrowed at the long wanted victim before her.

'So nice to see meet you at last, Aunt Bellatrix.' Nymphodora Tonks replied, venom dripping from her voice. She knew all about the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange and for a fleeting moment, had seen the similarity between her and her mother. But now, as Bellatrix stood before her, she wondered how. Her mother had aged gracefully, her hair still shone bright and her eyes sparkled with love. This womans eyes sparkled with nothing but bloodlust.

'Shame I cannot say the same thing about you, dear niece' Bellatrix growled. Her wand hand twitched as she faced the daughter of her estranged sister. A metomorphagus no less. How ironic that this girl could change her appearance as easily as her father had changed Bellatrixs world. Now was not the time for pleasantries. Now was the time for revenge.

'Mother has so often spoken of you Auntie. It was a frequent bed time story of mine how she escaped the clutches of her big bad sister and lived happily ever after' Tonks taunted. And it was true. She had often fallen asleep to the tale of how her mother had parted the Blacks in the middle of the darkest, stormiest night on record. But occasionally, as Nymphodoras eyes had drifted closed, she had heard the other side of the story. She has listened, her heart pounding, as her mother whispered to the 'sleeping' form of her daughter how she missed her vulnerable little sister who could so easily wrap people round her finger with her sleek blonde hair and how she longed to spend a single afternoon back with her older, wild sister with her untameable black curls and infectious laugh. Tonks had always wondered how these sisters could be the same ones that she had heard her mother 'escape' from. How could you want to leave two people who coaxed such longing and affection from your voice? And how could that affection mingle with such heart-wrenching bitterness and remorse? Of course, these thoughts did not pass Tonks's lips as she stared at the woman who had caused her mother such pain, but as she examined the aging face before her, she saw the very small ghost of a beautiful face beneath her Azkaban-induced frown lines and flat eyes. A tiny trace of long forgotten love in the sinister smile on her aunts lips.

'I hope your mother mentioned how it was you and your mudblood father who ripped her away from her big bad sister' Bellatrix shot back.

'Do not call my father that! Cru-'

'EXPELLIAMUS !' Bellatrix roared. There was no way her specialised spell would be used against her. She doubted this unworthy witch – if she could even be called that – before her could even use such a powerful spell. Her hand automatically caught her nieces wand and promptly snapped it in half. Ah. There it was. A trace of fear in her eyes. 'Why should i not? That's what he is, is it not? Mudblood scum. He deserves to be slaughtered for what he did to my family'

'He did nothing but love. Something I've heard you are quite incapable of'

'CRUCIO!' The word ripped from Bellatrix's mouth as she heard the phrase that had almost echoed what her sister had said to her all those years ago. It was strange that once you'd apparently forgotten something, it can all come flooding back at the most inconvenient of times. She watched as her niece writhed in pain before her, her body convulsing and muscles pulling her limbs in unearthly positions. She deserved so much more pain than this. She deserved to have all pain that her and her father had caused Bellatrix and Narcissa. She should pay for the weddings, funerals, functions, births and laughs that only two Black sisters attended, all the time pretending that they were all there was. That no third sister ever existed. That they were not once an inseparable trio.

Her curse came to an end and Nympodora fell to the floor, her chest heaving and her muscles aching like never before. She could feel the hatred that her aunt had poured into the curse and she knew that, without her wand, she would be at the mercy of the crazed witch.

'All you ... got... Bellatrix?' Tonks panted. If she was going to die this night, she was going to show her 'beloved' aunt that she could take whatever she had to give.

'Shut up, you disgusting creature' Bellatrix roared, her face twisted into pure hatred. With dramatic swipes of her want, deep cuts appeared on Nymphadoras cheeks, down her neck, across her shoulder blades. Blood wept from the wounds like tears from the eyes of the oldest Black sister all those years ago. And like that night, this would be the last time Tonks would bleed, just as it had been the last time Bellatrix had shed any form of tears. Tonks laughed as her battered body poured blood and she felt her life slipping away slowly. 'I don't suppose you've seen your scum husband around have you, darling?' the last word was said with mocking and scorn as the sudden change of subject grabbed Tonks's attention. She didn't answer. 'No, i thought not' A manic laugh trickled out of Bellatrix as she revelled in the delight of her news. 'That may be because he lies in a hallway with a nice shape of my foot in his side. He didn't complain though. No. He was too far gone.' And finally, after a moment of complete silence in which even the battling around them seemed to cease, Nympodora broke. Tears fell from her eyes as she thought of her loved one lying on a floor as the battle raged around him.

'But don't worry, dearest. Youll join him very, very soon' Bellatrix had sauntered over to her neice and crouched by her side. With a feline look about her, she stared into the face of her Tonks. She looked like her predatory self ready to pounce, that deathly glint in her eye. A finger traced the jawline of Tonks as she sobbed and a wistful tone was adopted to the sickening voice. 'But you're the lucky one. Youll be with him soon and you can be together in your filthy 'love'. What can I say of love? That the only thing I'd ever loved walked away from me and tore out my heart just as I did to you?' a bitter laugh escaped her as she seemed to talk to herself in a far away, distracted tone. 'Would anyone believe me that my precious mind broke long before the dementors got me? That it only took one person disapparating from my life to break the delicate threads of my sanity? Bellatrix Lestrange? Capable of love?' she gasped dramatically as her eyes stared down into the brown eyes of her niece. 'Surely not! She who has such an empty heart? Never. How little they know. How well I hide my apparent nonexistent emotions. Want to hear a secret Tonksy?' she asked, her voice dripping with hatred. Tonks didn't reply as tears still streamed her cheeks for her lost husband. 'DO YOU?' Bellatrix screamed and Nymphodora nodded feebly. 'I do love. I loved your mother more than anything in this entire world, and she was the one who made me into this... this crazed creature of the night. She drove me into the arms of the dark lord in pursuit of power and revenge that would make me forget her. Oh, but it didn't work did it? The blasted girl I laughed and played with haunts every empty corridor, every bloody empty seat. She's there behind me in every single blasted mirror I look into and yet gone when i turn. And i blame you. I blame you and your father. And for that, my pathetic excuse for a niece ... Avada Kedavra.'

She didn't know if Tonks saw the green light or felt pain as she slipped away from the battle, but she did know that revenge wasn't as sweet as the saying claimed. Looking down into the bloodied face of her niece, Bellatrix saw the odd mixture of her childhood happiness and adult hatred. Her sister and her filthy husband. A smile graced her lips as she rose from the limp body and ripped her eyes from it, instead turning to a shattered mirror that hung on the wall. In this, she saw the aged face of herself and the ghost of the face that had so often been compared to her favourite younger sisters. A smile came to her lips as the irony of the mirror struck her. Here was a woman who so desperately wanted the past back and sought it in a reflection of the ancient times, but the thing that struck her the most was the unfixable cracks and fractures that ran through the image, for Bellatrix Lestrange was truly a broken woman.

And with that, she turned on her heel and rejoined the battle, ignoring the battle that had raged in her for the past 20 years and would until a few hours later when Bellatrix Lestrange fell and let out one final frenzied laugh as she became the past that she so badly craved.