"NO!" a woman screamed. "You can't! Please!"

"What's this…" a man's disgusted voice is hissed out from between clenched teeth. A red light…

"Come, children, this is what happens to blood traitors…" says the eerily calm voice of a man. A monster. "CRUCIO!"

"AHHHHHH!" the woman screams as she's tortured on the floor, tears stain her face, agony written in every line. Then the screaming stops. The woman stares up, unseeing, empty eyes, pale lips tinged with blood whispering two words…

"Kill me…"

"You see, children, I am a merciful Lord…" a flash of green…

"NO!" Bellatrix screamed as she flew into a sitting position on her bed, hand readily pointing her wand at the entrance to her bedroom. A tired sigh escaped red lips as her shoulders sagged in exhaustion. Bloody nightmares… she settled back under her covers, her wand on the bedside table within reach, deciding against one of her many sleeping droughts for the time being. Just as she began to get comfortable once more, she heard the sound that must have pulled her from her dream.

There was an incessant pounding on the door to her private chambers. Groaning, she pressed one of her many pillows over her head, praying that whoever it is isn't stupid enough to keep pounding on the door of the intimidating Professor Black in the middle of the night.

The pounding sounded again, this time even louder than before.

"Grrraaaaa!" she growled as she slipped out from beneath the warm sheets and her feet touched the freezing hardwood. Grabbing her robe and pulling it over her nightgown, she shuffled begrudgingly to the door, swearing under her breath the entire way.

"Who the fucking hell would be here now… What?" she grumbled as she yanked the door open, hoping to scare someone enough to wet their pants.

As her luck would have it, she was disappointed.

"Bellatrix," a stern voice greeted her from the other side of the threshold.

"Minerva, do you know what bloody time it is!"

"I am well aware of the hour, Miss Black, but this simply could not wait."

"UHG, enough with the 'Miss Black' crap, you make it sound as though I'm a student again," Bellatrix groaned as she pulled the door open wider, allowing the older professor entrance into her private chambers.

"Perhaps if you possessed the attitude of a professor instead of a student, I would treat you accordingly," McGonagall remarked with a lifted brow as she entered the sitting room. Bellatrix shut the door behind her.

"When it's this early in the bloody morning I have a right to be a little cranky," Bellatrix replied as she fell backward onto the black loveseat by the fireplace. With a casual flick of her wand, flames roared to life in the hearth, lighting the room and beginning to take the chill out of her frozen feet. "You want to tell me why you're here, risking your life waking me in the dead of night?" She waved a hand to one of the armchairs and McGonagall nodded her thanks and sat down.

"I assume you remember what the plans were for tonight?" McGonagall asked, her eyes cast to the flames.

"Yeah, the others were bringing Potter to The Burrow tonight."

"You seem highly unconcerned."

"Will you just tell me, already? I didn't think I would have to pry out the details from you, seeing as it was so urgent you had to pound on my door before it was light!"

"Watch your tongue!" the older witch snapped, eyes flashing at Bellatrix before gazing back at the flames.

Bellatrix said nothing, simply folded her arms over her chest and scrunched her face in annoyance. Eventually, the woman would get to it. But Bellatrix was hardly what one would call a patient woman.

"I just received an update via Patronus from Kingsley. Potter is safe at The Burrow," the head of Gryffindor finally said.

"Well that's good, so it all went according to plan."

"Not… quite."

Bellatrix straightened at the strained tone in McGonagall's voice. She had always been impressed at how the witch could always look so powerful and composed, no matter the situation – not that she would admit to any such admiration out loud – but now, Bellatrix found that the woman sitting across from her looked… old and tired.

It only lasted a moment, but it was enough for Bella to appreciate the seriousness of the woman's next words.

"Alastor is dead. Killing curse by V-Voldemort himself."

All the air left Bella's lungs. "Holy shit." Bugger, she thought, shaking her head, I'm going to miss that old nut. She swallowed. "Anyone else?" she asked as she rose and walked over to glass decanter on her desk in the corner and filled two tumblers with the amber coloured Firewiskey.

"Mundungus vanished, the coward. George Weasley was hit by a curse that took off one of his ears, but he will be fine." She politely took the offered glass and held it delicately in her hands.

In one gulp, Bellatrix finished her glass and stared unseeing into its empty bottom. "And – "

"Yes, Nymphadora is fine. She and the others made it back perfectly safe."

"Okay, good." Bellatrix released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and refilled her drink. She stayed silent for a few moments, lost in thought. "She's pregnant, you know," she said finally, swirling the liquid in her glass. "She just told me last week. Didn't want her going on this mission in the first place… the werewolf backed me up, too. But she's always been stubborn…" She took a sip of liquid fire.

"I didn't know," Minerva answered, eyes wide with surprise. "Be sure to pass along my congratulations."

Bellatrix nodded and both professors stared at the flames, holding their drinks.

"Well… I will leave you to the rest of your night, then. I simply wanted to reassure you that Potter was safe and the others…" McGonagall nodded to herself and rose from her seat, placing her empty tumbler on the table – Bellatrix had not even realised that the other woman had actually finished the drink.

The raven-haired woman nodded, messy curls bobbing around her face. What were they going to do now? It was Moody who came up with most of the plans since Dumbledore died… the rest of the Order followed his lead. Kingsley would probably step up, he's leader quality enough. She shook her head. They're losing far too many members to do much good… even Hogwarts has fallen to the Dark Lord's power with Snape as Headmaster.

"Minerva?"

"Yes, Bellatrix?" the woman answered, halfway through the open door.

"What do we do now?"

There was a heavy sigh, and Bellatrix could imagine the woman removing her spectacles to rub her tired eyes. "I'm sure Mr. Potter has some sort of plan, something Albus has left him to do… couldn't have bloody told anyone else, though…"

Bella chuckled at the frustration in the witch's voice. Must have been some secret if even Dumbledore's right-hand woman didn't know what it was. She sighed. He had always been a cracked old man, even while she had been a student here, however many years ago that was. "Goodnight, Minerva."

"Goodnight, Bellatrix."

Bella heard the door close softly. She stood there, in the middle of her sitting room staring at the flames until morning shone through her windows, alerting her it would soon be time for breakfast, which the house-elves would deliver here since there were would be no students to feed in the Great Hall for another month yet.

With numb feet, Bellatrix padded over to her bathroom and turned the shower on, steam soon filling the tiny room and fogging the mirror. The witch climbed into the shower and hissed as the hot water scalded her body and chased away her chill. Damn it! A surprisingly strong fist struck the wall of her shower, cracking the tiles; the sharp edges cutting into her hand. How long will it take them now? With Moody gone… how many of us are actually left?

Once more, Bellatrix simply stood still as a statue, letting the hot water run over her body and thaw her from the shock of losing their most powerful member and her old mentor. An hour must have gone by before she finally decided her skin had pruned enough and she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower.

Wrapped in one of her fuzzy bath towels, and with tiny rivers of water running down her skin from her hair, Bellatrix watched the early morning sunlight reflecting off the Black Lake. She squinted; the reflecting sunlight like piercing stars dancing over the surface of the dark water.

Potter better have a clue of what to do… she grumbled internally. As much as Dumbledore trusted the boy, Bellatrix could not imagine what a seventeen-year-old could do against the most powerful dark wizard of their era. And with such friends as the Weasleys… she shook her head. No. They were all doomed to die or slowly rot away, powerless under this dictatorship. The only chance those boys had of not dying in the first month of school would be if the Granger girl was strong enough to keep those two idiots out of trouble.