Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the related characters. No money is being made from this story.

Run!

Bellatrix and Voldemort are standing feet away from me with their wands, you dolt!

WHO CARES? RUN!

"I-I-I d-don't... I c-can't pos-possibly," I stuttered.

"You won't possibly," hissed Voldemort as he raised his wand. I stepped back several feet, silently pleading with the red eyes that would be the last awful sight I'd ever see.

"Crucio!"

My eyes closed tight as I prepared for the onslaught of the torturous ache heading my direction. Shock overrode my senses when Bellatrix shouted out in pain. I opened my eyes to see Voldemort's wand steadily trained on her body.

Stunned, I watched her writhe on the ground; I was unable to comprehend why she was being tormented.

"Bellatrix," I whispered desperately. She clawed at the hardwood flooring beneath her as the curse continued to sear through her flesh.

Voldemort lifted the curse and turned away from both of us. I ran over to Bellatrix's side to see if she was injured. She groaned as I offered my hand to help her up, but pushed me away as soon as she was firmly back on her feet. Confused, I stepped back and watched her body shake from the aftermath of the Cruciatus.

"Leave us, Bellatrix." Her eyes narrowed down at me accusingly before she turned and swept out of the room.

I stood nervously fingering my wand. Several long moments had passed since Bellatrix had been ordered to leave and not a word had been shed since.

"And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal," he hissed, turning toward me once more. He closed the space between us and traced my scar with his finger. I flinched and began to pull away but found that I was unable to move, whether because of my own fear or his magic I was unsure.

My scar pulsed angrily causing me to drop to my knees, doubled over in pain. I cried out as the pain lashed relentlessly at my forehead. I lay crumpled in a fetal-positioned heap as the pain slowly subsided. I dared not move in the hopes that I'd be spared more injury.

"But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not..." He trailed off as he circled my body, the predator about to sink its vicious teeth into its tormented victim.

"P-Please, I don't have any unknown power."

"Crucio!" I thrashed as the torture curse hit my body. He stopped his use of the curse, cruelly letting me believe he was finished.

"CRUCIO!"

"Ahhh!"

Again and again he sent the curse at my body as I flailed helplessly on the ground. I could feel my mind clouding as I lost count of how long he'd been torturing me. My glasses were cracked in both lenses. Blindly, I reached out a hand as some sort of peace offering as he paused in his usage of the curse.

I heard his cold high-pitched laugh as he once again uttered the curse. I could feel my body about to give in to the pain I was experiencing.

My mind, however, refused to give in.

Bellatrix slammed the door as she walked into the small bedroom. It was well after midnight. She hadn't considered the fact that Narcissa had long since dimmed all but one candle and had gone to bed. It had been hours since she and Harry had left her sister to head for the Ministry. Narcissa's lithe form jumped awake over in the bed. Bellatrix watched as her sister sat up with wide eyes.

Narcissa blinked in surprise to see her sister in what was an obvious foul mood. Apparently, things had not gone well at the Ministry. Of course, now that she was more alert, she also noticed that Potter wasn't in the room.

"Where's Harry?"

Bellatrix growled, before beginning to pace and mumble incoherently under her breath.

"What's gone wrong?"

Her sister stopped her pacing and crossed the few feet to the bed before taking a seat. She took a few deep breaths, subconsciously rubbing her hands together and staring off into the dark corners of the room.

Narcissa considered her older sister as the candle danced across her face. She had known that the task of retrieving the prophecy would be difficult and dangerous. However, she was sure if anyone was able to handle things with care and confidence, it'd be Bellatrix. She certainly didn't expect to find her sister in such a state of agitation. Carefully, she placed her hand on Bellatrix's wrist.

Bellatrix whipped her head down to study her sister's touch, her black tangled hair swinging behind her, but did not pull away. Surprisingly, she slipped her hand up until her calloused palm was touching Narcissa's delicate and smooth hand and their fingers were interlaced. Worry lines appeared on Narcissa's face as her sister so unexpectedly leaned into her touch. Normally, she'd have pushed her away, possibly even cursing her, and bulked at her affection.

"Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix rested her head on her sister's shoulder without a word. Narcissa opened her mouth to ask what had happened once more, but found it was inappropriate. Her sister so rarely showed anything but contempt and malice that it was almost nice to see her in a different light. The last time she'd seen Bella this way was the hour before she'd married Rodolphus. She raised her arm against her older sister's back and began to lightly stroke her hair. Bellatrix remained silent, but never pulled away from her sister's touch.

The pair remained in that position for quite some time. Distantly, Narcissa was sure she could hear screaming ringing through the halls of the castle. It almost sounded as if it were Harry. Bellatrix had lifted her head at the noise. Her posture straightened once more as she ripped herself away from her sister and craned her neck to listen to the screams. Narcissa saw her expression shift from masked to curious and satisfied.

"Is that Harry? Bella, what is going on?"

Bellatrix faced her younger sister.

"I sincerely hope you weren't becoming too fond of the boy. I'm near certain he won't outlive the night."

Narcissa's eyes enlarged with shock. Naturally, she'd expected the chance that the prophecy could have some cursed meaning behind it that would spell disaster for the boy that had been placed in her care. However, she never actually believed that anything would be enough to kill the boy. A boy, she remembered, was her own son's age.

Had anyone been looking directly into her grey eyes, lightly tinted with blue flecks, they'd have seen her shock. However, Bellatrix was watching the door, listening as the screaming subsided every few minutes, only to begin louder than before a few seconds later. She turned away after a while and focused her attention back on Narcissa, who spoke before Bellatrix had the chance.

"Is that why you're acting so," she paused, unsure whether it'd be smart to continue her question, before braving it out, "strangely? Because Harry may die?"

An odd look crossed Bellatrix's face. For a second, Narcissa had read it as shock and thought she'd been right, but it quickly turned into an amused sort of anger.

"You think I'm mourning the death of Harry Potter?" She gave a harsh laugh. "Hardly!"

Narcissa cringed as the loudest scream echoed down the hall. She was glad she wasn't in the position Potter had found himself in.

"Then why are you --"

"Everything was going fine until we heard the prophecy! The trip to the Ministry was a great success. I even managed to kill Emmeline Vance, an Order member?" She paused and waited to see Narcissa nod. Satisfied that she understood, Bellatrix continued, "I killed another, but it was as we were leaving. I'm not even sure who I managed to hit." Unseen by Narcissa, Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "The Dark Lord turned on me when he heard the prophecy."

Narcissa gasped. "What do you mean he turned on you? You weren't mentioned?"

Bellatrix frowned in confusion before realizing what her sister was asking. She'd heard nothing but rumors running through the ranks of those questioning her sanity. However, she was quite sure that Narcissa's sanity was the one to question. "No! Don't be a dolt, of course I wasn't mentioned in the blasted thing! He was taking his anger at Potter out on me!"

Narcissa frowned as well, but didn't have anything helpful to add.

Bellatrix wondered whether her sister had heard her correctly and added for emphasis, "Me! He cursed his best, truest, his most devoted follower!"

After a long pause, Narcissa said, "I'm sure it's no reason to worry. He must have been frustrated is all." She gave her sister a sad smile. "What did it say?"

Bellatrix thought back before recounting what she heard to her sister. Stunned, Narcissa allowed herself a laugh. "There is no way that boy could possibly defeat the Dark Lord. What unknown power could he possess, do you think?"

Bellatrix shrugged, but gave her sister a serious look. "You truly believe Potter would have no chance in destroying him?"

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like her sister to question her Lord's abilities in any way, let alone question whether a teenaged boy'd bring him down.

"No. Do you?" Narcissa opened her mouth to say that there was no way and of course she wouldn't believe anything so ridiculous when she stopped and promptly closed her lips. The boy had defeated the Dark Lord once before, as nothing more than a baby, so what was to stop him now?

She shared Bellatrix's wondrous expression. "I'd never question the Dark Lord's abilities."

Narcissa stared at her sister incredulously. It wasn't what she'd said, but rather what she hadn't said. There was an underlying tone of doubt in her words that she'd believed her sister was incapable of expressing.

Before Narcissa could call her on it, Bellatrix said, "His screaming has stopped. It's been quiet for a while now. Do you think he is..." She trailed off and looked at her sister. She'd even told the boy the day before that she was growing attached to him. Realizing that he may have actually died, she felt a foreign feeling arise inside of her. Whatever it was, she was sure she never wanted to feel it again.

"No, I don't think he's dead. I - what happens if I still owe him a life debt and he dies?" Bellatrix was unsure what answer to give her sister.

"Well, there would be no life left to save. Therefore, it might just cancel out." She paused. "Or it might be that since you owed him and couldn't repay him, your life also gets taken in payment." Narcissa shuddered at the thought.

"No, I think he's still alive. I-I hope he's still alive." For the second time since entering the room, Bellatrix whipped her neck to stare at her sister. Narcissa rushed for something to say, "Of course, only so that we can show him we Blacks aren't a force to be reckoned with. After all, I haven't forgotten that he actually had the audacity to steal my wand from my hands."

Bellatrix's face lit up, but not the fanatical look she usually wore before getting ready to holler and cause a ruckus or set to torturing someone. Instead, she grinned knowingly. "Yes, of course."

Bellatrix gripped her left arm tightly as she felt her Lord's call. Her sister eyed her wearily, expecting a tirade of mumbled curses and wasn't disappointed.

"Has the nerve to punish me for nothing... kicks me out... ME... Bellatrix BLACK Lestrange... calls me back..."

Bellatrix stood up. "Come on, he's calling all of us now."

Narcissa made a funny shifting move before getting up and following her sister. Bellatrix walked past the threshold of the doorway and turned with an expectant look on her face. Narcissa had both feet in the hallway when she felt a pull and was thrown back with force into the room. She landed on her back with a hard thud. Standing up and fixing her clothing, she glared at Bellatrix as she bent over in near hysterics with laughter.

"Very funny, Bellatrix." She waited for her sister to remove her favorite jinx. Growing impatient, she began tapping her foot as her arms crossed on their own accord. Her sister had straightened up, but she was now laughing into her hand.

"It wasn't that amusing! Are you going to help me or not?" Bellatrix walked in and grabbed a hold of Narcissa's arm before pulling her through the doorway. They made their way down to the dining hall in silence, despite an occasional fit of laughter from the older of the pair.

The group was noisily gossiping about the reason we'd all been gathered. It seemed only Bella and I were being silent.

Bellatrix, however, was probably only silent because she lived for moments such as this. Despite everything he'd done to her, every single that that horrible man had put her through, I was still forced to watch as my beloved older sister crawled back to him time and again. It didn't matter that he'd put her life in danger. Why did it matter that his cause had destroyed the Black family? Who was to say that she shouldn't have spent thirteen years in Azkaban for one man?

I sighed, thinking about her next excuse. Unfortunately, I'd already given it to her.

'I'm sure it's no reason to worry. He must have been frustrated is all.'

I'd done nothing as Bellatrix set out on her path of self-destruction, humiliation, wasted beauty, and wasted talent. Bellatrix had always been a name that sparked fear, but at one time it had also brought along with it an awed respect. Gone were those days of respect to be replaced with disgust and outright terror.

It shouldn't be this way. Not Bellatrix. Never Bellatrix.

"My loyal followers." The atmosphere changed as the Dark Lord spoke. Where seconds before it was threatening to compete with the noise level of the Great Hall in Hogwarts at dinnertime, the silence that now swelled within the room rivaled that of a cemetery. My thoughts, however, swayed toward my sister once more.

Bellatrix had been my idol. Pureblood, strong, confident, beautiful, and smart. In a word, she was perfection. Bellatrix Black was the envy of many witches because she had everything they didn't and she was everything they weren't.

Bellatrix had been my idol. Pureblood, strong, confident, wasted, and hanger on to every word of the Dark Lord. Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't a witch to envy. She was the shining example of everything you didn't want to become, everything you strived to champion over.

Bellatrix may have seemed perfect, but perfection is only the mask she wore to hide the hideousness hidden underneath.

Regret is not to be felt by a Black. Regret is never to be felt by a Malfoy. Regret isn't proper for a woman of pureblooded status. I've never regret anything in my life, because admitting there is something to regret is admitting I'm anything but perfect.

Perfection is a mask.

I learned long ago that I had many faults. In fact, it was this that led to me being the height of perfection. I knew what other family members on our side had refused to acknowledge: We are less than perfect. In admitting that I have faults, if ever only to myself, I know that I'm better than those who claim to be ideal.

I am perfect.

The worst regret I've ever had was that I never stopped my hero from becoming another ghost in the past, another forgotten beauty, and another tragic life.

Bellatrix Black had been born for the purpose of being remembered. She'd never even given herself the chance.

Bellatrix Lestrange would forever be remembered. Remembered as a terror: nothing more than another ghost in the past, another forgotten beauty, another tragic life.

I never stopped my sister from destroying herself. I never even tried.

There's still hope.

But I know in my heart that there is no hope. Gone forever is the chance that Bellatrix Black will come back to this earth. Bellatrix Lestrange will never be worthy of redemption.

That's why you've got to save what's left of your family.

My husband is farther gone than Bellatrix!

Save your son.

Naturally.

Save Harry Potter.

He isn't family.

You owe him your life. He has the ability to defeat the man terrorizing your family. He's your only hope now.

"My faithful, my followers."

I craned my neck, intent on listening because I'd missed whatever the Dark Lord had been saying. I'd been too far gone in my thoughts of the past and future.

"Tonight, you've gathered around to see the end of the Boy-Who-Lived." He stepped back to show a curled up figure shaking at his feet.

His black hair was matted and plastered against his famous scar. His skin was a deathly shade of white and his glasses were cracked. His eyes kept fluttering open and closed and his mouth was agape. I'd seen horrible things done to the boy during his stay in my home. I'd even taken part in a great deal of his torture, but his sickly appearance now was by war the worst I'd ever seen him.

I tried looking elsewhere several times, but the grotesque image was appealing in a startling way. No matter how much it sickened me, I couldn't reject the feeling that I must not turn away from the sight of his body before me. Besides, I refused to watch the arses around me whooping, jeering, and shoving each other to get a better look.

I felt Bellatrix jerk. I noticed that she was also steadily watching Potter, but was not joining along with her comrades in their bouts of uncivilized celebration. She almost looked angry.

"Silence," the Dark Lord spat. The noise level in the room died down instantly until only Harry's pained whimpering could be heard.

"Watch, my faithful, as I finish what I started thirteen years ago." The Death Eaters roared. Echoes of 'Die Potter!' and 'Kill him! Kill him!' rang throughout the room.

Harry looked around until he found his wand lying nearly four feet from him. He forced himself to crawl over to the spot and snatched it up in his right hand. The Dark Lord let out another bout of cruel laughter, but didn't try to take it from him.

From the crowd, someone shouted, "Grab your wand, Potter! As if you have a chance!"

He struggled to his feet. His body swayed dangerously and he looked ready to collapse at any moment. Weakly, he pointed his wand toward his glasses and said, "Reparo." The cracks sealed themselves and were looking good as new within seconds.

"Do you have any last words, Potter?"

Harry bared his teeth. His only response was a low growl issued from deep within his throat.

"Very well, Potter. I've had enough messing about… Avada Kedavra!"

Harry didn't have time to panic. He shouted the first spell that came to his mind.

"Expelliarmus!"

Thunderous cheers had ricocheted off the walls of the room when the Dark Lord had unleashed his fatal curse. Bellatrix had pushed her way past people so that she was within a few feet of Potter and her Lord. She watched, spellbound, as Harry's defense spell crashed with her master's curse in midair. The effect was like nothing she'd ever seen before. Their wands seemed to be connected. Death Eaters' cheers were stifled as they watched, completely captured by the sight before their eyes.

Harry gripped his wand with both hands and his eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn't expected to still be standing. Yet, there he was, still alive and fighting with Lord Voldemort to boot. He forced the last of his strength into pushing the connected spells away from him. By an incredible amount of dumb luck, he was apparently fortunate enough to have even stunned Voldemort into confusion, and therefore gained the advantage. With one last heave he forced the connected magic further away from himself, just as a transparent something had been forcing its way from Voldemort's wand. The connection broke and he fell flat to the ground, injured and drained, unable to defend himself any longer. The combined magic shot over his head and impacted with a gangly looking Death Eater. The man keeled over, dead, with a look of pure shock.

Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously. He began to shout out another killing curse to end the damned boy's life once and for all when a most unexpected thing occurred: Bellatrix had launched herself in front of the boy, her arms spread out defensively and her eyes wide.

A great snarl erupted from her master as she dared to stand in his way. "You dare --"

With a great, urgent cry, she pleaded, "My Lord, please! Please, see reason! The boy has just managed - I'm not even- master, what if…" She trailed off, frantically waving her arms about in protest and the fear that her beloved master would finish her off for so blatantly defying him.

Narcissa had crawled through the shaken, confused, and muttering onlookers to reach her sister's side. "Please, my Lord, Bella is right! Perhaps the prophecy meant something else -something terrible and dangerous- all together! What if, forgive me, my Lord, the curse backfires?" Her tone, less frantic than her sister's had been, shared the same sense of urgency in explaining what could be lost.

Voldemort considered both women and the nearly unconscious boy before him. Bellatrix was now near tears at the thought of disappointing her master, the man for which she'd given everything, and was at the same time disgusted by her own reaction. She sniffled and glared determinedly at the ground.

"My Lord, if I may?" A man stepped forward after receiving a nod from his infuriated master and shed his mask. His voice had an oily quality to it that made it grating to the ears. A great hooked nose was framed by long greasy strands of black hair that contrasted his pale skin. His onyx eyes swept over his master's wand for the briefest of seconds before he turned his eyes and met the green-eyed teen's. He bore his eyes into the boy's before him for several long moments. Without turning away, he announced, "My Lord, I must agree. From what I have heard of the prophecy, it seems unwise to act until we can be absolutely sure of its meaning."

Voldemort lowered his wand. A long silence filled the room where, once again, only Harry's deep breathing and small whimpers could be heard.

"You think it unwise, Severus, not to eliminate the threat that the boy poses?"

Severus finally turned his eyes away from the sight of Potter's beat-up form and faced his master, skillfully masking his emotions and employing his use of Occlumency. "I can't pretend to know what the truth behind the prophecy is or what damage the boy is actually capable of causing, my Lord. However, begging my pardon, you've acted on the threat alone once before with disastrous results."

A hideous look stole over the Dark Lord's snakelike face. "You're a foolish man, Severus."

Snape cleared his throat. "I meant no disrespect. I simply meant that the boy has power and there is a magical connection between you both. Perhaps, instead of trying to kill him, he is still of some use to you?"

Voldemort's face was masked as he took a seat in one of the remaining chairs that had survived his follower's celebratory dances.

"My Lord," Bellatrix said as she moved to be closer to him. He turned his attentions toward her. The anger had melted into a look of deep concentration, but Bellatrix knew above any other how quickly he could turn moods. Her words came out rushed. "Maybe the boy can be kept alive to serve you. He expressed a wish to learn the Dark Arts. I can teach him if you allow it."

His fingers clasped together. "For what purpose, Bella?" She sighed, relieved, as he reverted to her nickname. She knew that he was now listening with interest. She turned her head to see that Harry had finally slipped into unconsciousness. Narcissa had his head cradled in her lap and was checking him over.

"He is very close to a number of Order members. I've heard tell that Dumbledore seems to favor him and the Ministry has taken his disappearance personally. Master, he is the key to destroying our enemies."

Voldemort twitched his hand. Bellatrix plowed on, "He has so much potential under my tutelage, Master. He has also expressed his wish to live… my Lord, please, consider allowing him to join our cause. Convincing him to join renders the prophecy useless, does it not, if he follows under your command?"

She watched as her master nodded. "That was my intention in capturing him, Bella. I admit to jumping rashly at hearing the prophecy in its entirety. My mind raced to eliminate the threat posed to me as it had over thirteen years ago. However, you're correct. Potter is more useful as an ally than he is dead - for now."

Behind them, a small smile appeared on Narcissa's face at the same moment a triumphant gleam appeared in her eye. Luckily, it went unnoticed as she had her head bowed over Harry's body. The other Death Eaters were too focused on their Master to pay her any mind.

"Severus, I'm afraid I've gotten a little carried away. See to it that Potter is cared for properly. Bellatrix and Narcissa, make sure that he stays undisturbed. You're all dismissed."

Severus left to collect a store of potions. Waiting until the room was mostly cleared out and her Lord had gone, Bellatrix moved to Narcissa's side.

"Why'd you try to stop him?"

Bellatrix was studying Harry's bruised body. It was clear that he had suffered more than just the Cruciatus Curse. His left hand was bent back at an unusual angle, clearly broken, and he had multiple tears in his robes and scratches about his exposed skin.

"Something didn't feel right about letting him die. I- well, what if it had somehow killed you?"

Narcissa eyed her and nodded appreciatively. It hadn't been a truthful answer, but she hadn't been completely lying either. She whispered back, "I've never seen wands act like that before! Maybe Potter would have a chance in destroying him, after all."

Bellatrix nodded slowly, thinking. "Nor have I, but Narcissa, honestly, I'd never question the Dark Lord's abilities." The barest hint of a smile broke on both of their faces as they carefully used their wands to direct Harry back to his room.