Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter.


Chapter 7


The cool air felt nice with the combination of the late afternoon sun. Krista had molded herself onto the dragon's back, every inch of her pressed against the scaly skin. She sighed, content, and closed her eyes.

She was used to time passing by. The wind flowed through her hair, and she focused on the moon rising behind her. She hadn't felt so calm in such a long time.

After a while, she opened her eyes and gasped. The bloody dragon was diving down! Had she mentioned how much she hated dragons? Thankfully, it landed on its feet, and crouched so she could get off.

She did so and waited. She had no idea where she was, so now what?

The dragon huffed and swung its head to the right, hoping Krista would get the gist.

"That way?"

The dragon seemed to understand and nodded. Just as she was about to take a step, it made a sort of whining sound and shook. Krista turned back to the dragon and noticed a sack wrapped around its body. She unhooked it and squat down on the ground.

Opening the sack, she pulled out a canteen of water, a cloak, a blanket, a wrapped piece of bread, and –

"My wand!" she exclaimed happily and stuffed everything else back in the sack. She swung it around to her side and stood back up.

The dragon huffed and nodded its head to her, and she nodded back. It took off back to where they came from. She looked to the left and started walking. After only half an hour, she arrived in a very familiar place.

The village of Hogsmeade was deserted, a desert of its former self. The silence gave her goose bumps. She tried her best to be as sneaky as possible as she made her way around Hogsmeade. But she was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. It was far too silent in Hogsmeade, and she didn't want herself to get caught.

When she reached the lake, she looked on at the castle she used to call home. There was no warm glow that came from the castle like it had before. It was dark. Too dark for her tastes.

She suddenly wondered what her dorm looked like. Was it as she left it? Had no one occupied it since she herself? Hadn't it only been for the Heir of Gryffindor?

Krista was going to give herself a headache that she didn't need if she continued asking herself questions that she couldn't answer.

Looking at her reflection in the water, she noticed how hollow her cheeks were compared to before, and her hair lanky and without shine. She missed how she used to be. Why did she have to be alive?

How was she alive? Why? The assassin, El, seemed to have something to do with it. She'd rather be dead than be here.

oOo

"Bloody Potter boy," Bellatrix murmured, "always number one on the Dark Lord's list. Why couldn't I be his first priority?"

She sniffed. They had just gotten back from Gringotts Wizarding Bank, and the Dark Lord had thrown a fit about Potter taking his cup, thus causing the deaths of many goblins.

Still, she should be his top priority, not Potter. After all, she was his own seed.

She had figured it out when she was a student at Hogwarts. Her mother, Druella, never treated her the way a daughter should be treated. She always favored Andromeda and Narcissa, that is, before Andromeda was disowned for marrying a Muggle-born.

She remembered the day she told Narcissa.

"See here, Cissy?" Bellatrix nudged her younger sister in the Slytherin dorms. The dark-haired witch held a photo in her hand, urging Narcissa to look at it.

Narcissa leaned over and said, "She looks a bit like you, Bella. Could she be related to the Black family?"

She shook her head, her curls falling out of her loose bun. "No, no, this was Krista Hart, Gryffindor who graduated the same time Cygnus did."

Narcissa gave Bellatrix a scrutinizing look. "Why do you call father by his first name? You have started doing that lately."

Bellatrix turned and dug through her bag. "That's because Cygnus isn't my real father. This is him!" She pulled out another picture with a man with wavy, black locks that brushed against his flawless pale skin. There was an overall bored expression on his face, that is, except for his eyes. His eyes were dark green, almost black, and with hard cruelty and emitting coldness.

She sighed and ran her index finger down the picture. She turned to Narcissa and frowned.

Narcissa had both her hands over her eyes, her pink lips tight.

"What are you doing, Cissy?"

The blonde shook her head. "I can't look! I don't want to betray Lucius by gawking at other men."

Bellatrix didn't hold back her laugh. "Lucius is a pig-headed jerk. I cannot believe you like him."

And then there was the day she actually met her father.

"Dad, we're home!" she called out into the house, frustrated on how he had not come to pick them up from Platform 9 ¾. He could have sent mother! While Andromeda and Narcissa went quietly up the stairs to unpack their suitcases, she left hers at the door and stomped to Cygnus' study.

"Father!" She knocked loudly on the door.

"Come in, Bella," Cygnus said through the door, his voice straining.

She turned the knob and pushed the door open, her eyes falling on the hooded man in the armchair across from Cygnus.

She hesitated when she felt the dark magic coming off him in waves. The door clicked shut behind her and she stood awkwardly, looking back and forth between both men.

"Bellatrix, I would like you to meet Lord Voldemort." He nodded his head towards the hooded man.

"Lord who?" She voiced her question. Was he the lord of some estate?

Voldemort pulled his hood down and gazed at her with crimson eyes.

Bellatrix gasped. Even though his features seemed to have melted, his hair looked without life, and his skin was chalk white instead of a deathly pale, the eyes held the same cruel and cold gleam. This was Tom Marvolo Riddle, her father.

"It seems my appearance has shocked your daughter, Cygnus." His voice was high and icy, and he pronounced his S's like a snake.

"Forgive me, my lord." She bent down on one knee and bowed her head in respect.

A grin etched across his face, looking like a cat that had just caught a bird. He reached forward and grabbed her hand, feeling her skin under his cold touch. Her eyes met his as he motioned her to stand. Then he brought her hand to his thin lips and pressed slightly.

She blushed and pulled her hand back after he let go, her eyes unable to leave his even after several moments.

Sighing dreamily, Bellatrix's eyes wandered across her room. One of the items that stood out the most was a bright red scarf.

Bellatrix tiptoed up the steps to Voldemort's quarters. It was the middle of the night, and she had slipped out of her room. She was done admiring the mark on her arm and wanted to see the man who had branded her as one of his Death Eaters.

Pressing her ear to his door, she listened carefully.

A feminine moan sounded from inside.

Blushing furiously in anger, she moved from the door and sat across from it. She wasn't too fond of other women being intimate with their lord. She had always thought that her mother was the only one for him. Even though she was long dead, he had allowed her to have his child.

Judging by the photos, her mother looked like a fragile doll. Did her father only want her because of how she looked? Even Dark Lords could make rash choices fresh out of Hogwarts such as getting a young woman pregnant. A married young woman at that.

The door opened and Bellatrix glared at the woman stepping out in a thin red nightgown. And it went so well with the scarf she put over her neck to hide the bite marks.

"Well, if it isn't little Bella," the woman whispered, her eyes giving off a haughty look.

"I graduated last year. I am hardly little anymore, Gizelle," she hissed in a hushed tone.

Gizelle chuckled and began walking down the hall, followed by Bellatrix who had murder in her eyes. "You don't deserve to be in the Dark Lord's bed."

The other woman halted and turned to Bella. "Jealous, love?"

Bellatrix's lip curled, disgusted. The thought of having an incestuous relationship with her father sickened her. Gizelle giggled much to her annoyance and resumed walking down the hall with her head high.

Gizelle's corpse was found in her room the next day, no trace on who or what killed her.

Bellatrix never told.

She felt giddy at the memory. She had kept the scarf in secret, and she always mocked it whenever she had the chance.

"Mrs. Lestrange," someone spoke from the other side of the door.

She opened the door and stepped out, giving a brief greeting the masked Death Eater.

"It is time to leave."

Bellatrix followed the other Death Eater with a hop in her step.


Author's Note: Sorry for this later than usual update, I suffered from a bit of writer's block. I had planned on making the Battle of Hogwarts this chapter, but decided to delay it until next.

Review Replies:

Honey Luna: I'm so glad you say I capture Voldemort's character well, and you'll see how he is in the next chapter.

Dark Angel 792: You'll have to wait another chapter then... *avoids flying tomatoes*

Reviews equal love.