"We're almost there… Feel it coming….You?"
Belatrix found it hard to hear, nor did she have any desire to listen to, Harry Potter's endless directions. She was above them; they had both learned that in yersterday's grim confrontation. The thought of it gave Belatrix slight shivers; which was not to say that she did not enjoy the fact, because she so did, it was just… Just… She had never even dreamed, ever at all, that little, innocent Harry Potter would think to threaten her, or anyone. Oh, well.
Anyhow.
"Sorry… Can't hear.. You…" Belatrix made her voice softer – edged than usual, so that it would sound completely authentic. Was it possible that, if Harry knew his words were lost to her in the wind, he would stop annoying her with his endless, glorified, string of babble and angry comments.
Just as Belatrix was about to get her hopes up – and for good reason – Hermes seemed to realize what she was doing. The cat/person uttered a low, long growl from deep in his chest. Even in the blustering weather, it could not be mistaken as anything but feral, and mad.
"Hermes, what is it?" Harry ran backwards toward his little comrade, and whispered in its ear, "What is she doing?" And then, even more softly, "did you get it?"
It?
Even from the distance, and while she had not been able to hear him, Belatrix was a particularly skilled lip reader – how else was she to communicate with Voldemort's dumb cousin, who he forced all the deatheaters to visit? – and Harry, because he was so unassuming, failed miserably to make his mouth unobvious.
It, Belatrix had long ago reasoned, had to be involved with her. I mean, obviously. Every once in a while, Harry glanced at her in a funny way, and once, when she had asked "What do you want, Potter?" He had begun to say something, possibly very revealing of his all – around plot, and then shut his mouth with a large and stunned clamp. He really had no tact at all.
I mean, seriously no tact.
Coming back to earth, Belatrix once again tried to think hard. It was difficult as the world was white, bleak, cold and blurred, and the only clothes she wore were a pair of thin jeggings (who knew how those had ended up in her closet) and a very thin silk chemise, which clung to her in a most embarrassing and painful way. Already half – damp, the garments, or rather undergarments, did nothing to shield her from the Cambridge winter cold.
And how did she know it was Cambridge which they had been walking toward for so long? Well, it had of course been another of Harry's stupid giveaways! Which was almost insulting, if Belatrix thought of it for long enough. WHich she would now, as she had nothing else to do. And anyways, if she had to be captured, shouldn't she have been captured by a person with at least her same freaking intelligence?
Belatrix was so momentarily upswept in her anger, she bit her tongue. Hard.
And then, another flash of brilliance! As the hot, sweet blood welled just under her lip, Belatrix cried out, somewhat over – dramatically. Well, very over – dramatically.
Even Harry, blunt as he was, heard her. And predictably, he let his savage unpleasantness take over himself, and ignored her.
Ok then, time for stage B. Belatrix Coughed hard, and as pain beat against her chest once more (first time – falling on her face) the blood hit the snow without a sound; of course. It felt so good to be doing something she was good at again – example, working up an ingenious and devilishly deceitful plot – that Belatrix vaguely realized she was doing a better job than ever before.
The blood trail was tedious to lay out, and required a lot of excruciating neck – bending, false back pain, and grunts ad groans. Belatrix was up to it, and in fact, was over – eager to perform the old task of carrying something out. And anyhow, she would do anything to escape from her captors; er, captor – and – a - half.
"Arggh! Auf – ooow!" After grunting and moaning in severely over – emphasized pain, Belatrix sat down in the snow. Now this, Harry noticed.
"B-" Realizing that this might be breaking his obvious vow not to call her by name, Harry changed his statement. "Hey, come on!"
"Aaarghhh…" Belatrix let her eyes roll to the back of her head. Meantime, her hands reached into her back pocket for something that her long – dead mother had always forced her to wear, but that she'd never thought she would have to use.
"I said, come on. Do you want me to drag you?" Harry Potter's teeth were gritted once again. It made Belatrix absolutely certain her plan was working; and almost doubtful as well, for shouldn't Harry have at least a little bit of suspicion by now? I mean, she had just out – of – the blue started "vomiting blood"! Was Harry really that stupid?
Insufferable!
However, several minutes later, Belatrix knew for certain that he was. As Harry advanced toward her, that blasted Hermes on his shoulder, in what he obviously thought was a very menacing expression, Belatrix fumbled in her back pocket, her hands feverishly and quickly searching for that one, little can. Eventually she found it.
"Are you coming, or do I have to force you?" Harry leered. And, unable to resist one last jab now that her position was secured, Belatrix responded in a familiar, lilting tone.
"I don't think you'll be forcing me to do anything, Potter." Her eyes gleamed, her arms reappeared from behind her, and a horrified expression came over Harry even before he could realize what she held in her hand, almost as if he had always been anticipating this, never quite believing that he could keep the infamous she – deatheater at bay.
So, sooo satisfying.
"Especially not with this in your eyes."
Belatrix had deadly aim, how else had she single – handedly defeated so many meddlesome ministry geeks? And of course, her arm did not fail her now. One spray for the cat – even if it was Serius Black, it weighed significantly less than a person. And then… Aaaaah… Four sprays for the boy. No five, just for the Dark Lord's benefit.
A second was all she needed. Harry was temporarily blinded, and Hermes, as well. Belatrix dove, her eyes on the prize.
In another second she was flicking Harry's wand in the air, triumphantly. It felt much heavier and was darker than her old, familiar fox – hair beech one, but it would do.
For now, of course.
When Harry and Hermes opened their eyes, they were too dazed to know what was coming for them. Harry made a valiant effort as usual, diving and lunging, but Belatrix was too fast.
"Stupify!" She screamed.
And then added, just for fun, "and next time, maybe wear thicker glasses."
Moments later she was disappearing into the crowd, just a girl with a long stick and a red can of pepper spray in hand. Smiling to herself, ignorant of what was to come.
Or was she?
Don't worry, everyone! It so does not end this way!
