Word Count: 421


There's something that feels almost like a finality in the air when Bellatrix enters their dormitory. Rita takes a deep breath, counts to three, and exhales. It doesn't make her feel better.

"Has something changed?" she asks.

Bellatrix looks up at her. Rita knows that expression all too well. Bellatrix is trying to look stronger than she actually is. "Does it really matter?" she asks sharply, tugging at her black curls.

"It does to me." Rita steps closer, reaching out a hand. "You're a fool if you think I wouldn't care if you broke my heart."

Bellatrix's face drains of color. She swallows dryly. "I never said I intended to break your heart."

Rita almost laughs at that. "You didn't have to," she says. "I know you."

Bellatrix loves her, but she has never wanted this. They are forced into the shadows, hidden away with this secret between them. Rita wonders how Bellatrix copes with it. After all, she is a Black, and she holds herself so high above everyone else.

Maybe Rita should have seen this coming. It was only a matter of time before Bellatrix's guilt shattered her.

"I don't want it to be this way," Bellatrix admits, her voice soft and more vulnerable than Rita has ever heard.

Rita sighs heavily and shakes her head, her blonde curls thudding against her cheeks. "Then it doesn't have to be," she insists, grabbing Bellatrix by the hand. "Do you really think we'll be happy just moving on, trying to pick up the pieces?"

"I think you forget that I'm not supposed to prioritize my own happiness."

Of course she isn't. Rita has heard Bellatrix's annoyed rants; she has listened to her longing, her desire to no longer be the perfect Black daughter. What does her happy happiness matter? All she should care about is how pure anyone's blood is.

It isn't fair. Bellatrix deserves so much more than that, and Rita will do whatever it takes to give it to her.

"I'm yours," Rita whispers. "As long as you want me, okay? I promise."

Bellatrix softens, but just barely. "You know it will never last, don't you?"

Maybe Rita is well aware of that. Maybe, in the back of her mind, she has always known that they were made to break. It doesn't matter. All that matters now is that they are here in this moment, and she can pretend that eternity isn't just a word.

Their lips meet in a chaste kiss. "Doesn't matter," she says. "I'm still yours."