- The missing ingredient -
A moment later, it was daylight. Bellatrix was in another room, maybe in another house, mixing a strange greenish potion with the same concentration of when she was a teenager. In front of her, a large window let the rays of a strong and warm sun pass, although the curtains had been drawn. That glow bothered her; Harry saw the woman covering her eyes with her hands, as if the light was a source of distraction. From time to time, she removed her hair from the sweaty skin, paused to observe the potion, puffed and finally came back to stir. Whatever she was preparing, it had to cost her a great effort.
The figure appeared behind Bellatrix without her or Harry noticing it. Even before he spoke, however, something had changed in the room: the sun seemed less hot, and it was perceivable even through a memory.
"An ingredient is missing" was his first sentence, without even a hello. But it had the effect of a hug for Bellatrix, who brightened, turning and seeing the beloved master. In fact, there was something different in the way they both looked at each other... Something more intimate. Harry wondered if it was a result of becoming Death Eaters. How was it possible that he had never noticed? Maybe it was, when Voldemort was still alive and Harry had something else to think about, dealing with his henchmen. Or it was a special treat, reserved only for her? He couldn't find an answer.
"Your potion" continued Voldemort, "will never work without that ingredient". Bellatrix stopped admiring him and only then seemed to understand what he meant. She turned back to the cauldron, filled with the greenish substance, and realized she was making a futile effort. It seemed she had no idea of what was missing, but she didn't dare to ask.
Voldemort sat in front of her, at last obscuring the light, and cocked his head to one side, watching her. She didn't speak and continued to stir, but was clearly distracted.
"Something bothering you, Bella?" he asked, a little later.
"It's for my sister, my Lord," she explained, "Andromeda. She's determined to marry that filthy Mudblood Tonks... All of us had the illusion it was the usual crush, that she would return home after a couple of days, but no! She sent us an owl with the wedding invitation. The invitation, you know? For my parents, a curse would have been better, they would have stood it more easily. She's ungrateful, selfish! She had no respect for those who grew her up, nor for her own blood. We'll become a laughing stock for all our acquaintances, because of her".
"Don't worry so much. People forget, with time. The real fault only remains to those who committed it. And they understand, sooner or later... Or someone else reminds them". Voldemort had picked up his wand and rolled it slowly between his fingers, as he spoke that comment. The gesture was almost more frightening than the words.
"This is certain, my Lord. She'll regret it". Bellatrix was evil, too, too much to be talking about her sister. "Thank you, really... You're the only one who understands me so well, who always listens to me. I adore you for this, too…" And she became so different, so absurdly sweet, as she spoke to him. She was admiring him again, now, forgetting what she was doing until recently. Her hands stretched on the table almost imperceptibly as to want to touch him, but never exceeded an invisible barrier. Yet, Voldemort noticed it; he pulled away quickly, as if to expand that barrier even more, and his gaze hardened.
"Maybe you should get married, too".
It was as if a knife had been stuck in her chest. Harry felt, perceived it, as though he was not just looking at the scene but lived it through her, as she had lived. From the beginning of that journey, he had realized that her memories seemed more powerful than all the others he had visited; they could lead him nearly in that woman's mind, and make him share more than he would have liked. They were filled with a new, unknown magic.
"What? Me...?"
"Yes, Bellatrix, you. Unlike your sister, you could marry someone to your height. The pretenders don't miss, I think. And so, you would redeem your family from their biggest disappointment".
"I... I don't know, I never thought about that" she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "But it won't be necessary. Narcissa will do it, even before me… She's so fond of Lucius, and like him wants a family, children. A Malfoy will be welcome in our house".
"I have no doubt". The conversation had taken a strange turn. In appearance it looked trivial, but there was something in the air, a sore point they both avoided touching, bypassing it. But while Bellatrix seemed to be afraid of it, Voldemort behaved that way on purpose, as to torture her mentally.
"But this doesn't change things," he continued, his voice falsely sweet. "You don't want to get married? I thought you liked Lestrange. He's ambitious, capable. He looks like you".
"We have a good relationship. But I never thought…" she repeated. "I'm young, I still have many projects, and…"
"One thing doesn't exclude the other" he interrupted her. He rose from his chair and began to approach her, slowly. "Lying to me is useless. You haven't learned it yet, after all this time". Once again he seemed to know everything about her, about what she thought and felt. Bellatrix blushed and felt weak, exactly as in that night in the woods.
"I know what you would like" he said slowly, getting closer and closer, "but you mustn't dare even to think about it. Don't confuse desire with something else, Bella, and don't forget who I am. What I give you is so much, but you deserve it because you're a good witch. The rest doesn't belong to us".
Bellatrix glanced up at him, and they looked at each other for a few, long moments. "Yes, my Lord. I know".
"Do you want to wait for me forever?" he asked, derisively. Before returning serious, glacial, and saying: "Don't disappoint me".
A moment after that last request, Bellatrix turned and left the room. Harry followed her through a corridor and another door, which led into an elegant marble bathroom. He stood in the doorway, not knowing whether to continue, when he saw her stopping in front of the mirror and staring at her own image. In her, were mixed together anger, pain, passion… A multitude of emotions that Harry could feel, too, in the grip of the power of those memories. He could almost hear her thought, so confused, crazy and yet united by a common thread. Riddle. Damn Riddle… She allowed herself to call him that way when she was alone, free from that presence that understood and stifled every emotion; a presence that, despite everything, she wanted viscerally, without limits. She looked herself for a long time, until Harry knew, as well as all the other things, she had made a decision. She drew her wand and pointed it at the mirror, murmuring: "Diffindo". The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, that fell and scattered in the sink and on the floor. Then, Bellatrix chose one of those fragments, the one which seemed the most pointed, and grabbed it firmly in her hand. A cut deeper and deeper formed in the palm while she held it, with the intention to provoke that injury. Still, the pain seemed almost to make her feel better, so much that she smiled devilishly seeing that her own blood flowed. Eventually, she dropped the piece of glass in the sink, fisted her wounded hand and turned back to the room she had just left. For the first time, Harry could not understand her intentions. Even Voldemort looked confused, when he saw her returning in that state; but as soon as he noticed the wounded hand, he smiled smugly.
"Here, my Lord," said Bellatrix. She brought her hand to the cauldron and, finally, Harry knew what she wanted to do. She opened her palm again, until a few drops of blood fell into the potion that, immediately after contact, became as clear as water. A tricky aspect of what was supposed to be a thousand times more dangerous. "The missing ingredient".
-Notes:
Thank you for all the reviews, I'm so sorry not to be faster in posting! Anyway, this chapter is one of my favorites... I wish you like it, too!
