As Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, strode away from number four, Privet Drive the anger that had controlled him earlier that evening began to fall away, replaced by the realization that he had royally screwed up. Collapsing onto a bench a few streets away from where he lived during the summer Harry ran a hand through his unruly raven colored mane as he let out a low groan. Not only had he used magic which carried with it the penalty of potential expulsion from Hogwarts and having his wand snapped but in his rage at Uncle Vernon's pig of a sister Aunt Marge he had used magic not just in front of her, but on her.
Harry had known to expect the insults, the slurs and pointed jabs thrown his way but he hadn't expected nor had he mentally prepared himself for the ones leveled at his parents. He knew to expect one or two, Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister after all, (even if she looked like a much shorter, fatter, and frankly uglier version of the troll Harry had fought in his first year) but he hadn't expected the depth she'd gone tearing into them. The only thing that Harry felt could potentially excuse his actions was the fact that the last time she'd visited Harry had truly believed his parents had been drunk drivers killed in an unfortunate car crash, so he hadn't been able to argue with her insults; no matter how much he hated her discrediting their memory.
However two years later at the age of thirteen Harry had been unable to control the rage that had burned through his veins at every curse, insult, and jab Marge threw at the dead. His parents hadn't been drunk drivers, they'd been war heroes. They hadn't been 'bad eggs' that had eloped like lovers in the middle of high school, they had died, DIED, trying to protect their son. Harry could still recall the nightmares he'd had as a child of a bright green light and a woman, words unclear but desperation plain as day, begging only to be met by a cruel laugh. Only now knowing the whole truth did Harry know that the woman had been his mother and the laughter had come from the Dark Lord Voldemort. His rage at the pig disguised as a woman grew until it burst leading to Marge turning from a fat woman you would expect to see at the beginning of an extreme weight loss telly show into a fat balloon that wouldn't have looked out of place in the American Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (okay he may have exaggerated at the end there; no one would want a balloon that ugly in a parade).
Harry wasn't fully sure what legal ramifications came with breaking the International Statute of Secrecy but whatever it was they probably weren't good. The Statute had been covered two years ago during his first year at Hogwarts and like usual Harry had struggled to stay awake and pay attention to Professor Binns. The only reason he hadn't passed out like the majority of the other students was that it had been the beginning of class and the ghost for once hadn't droned on about the goblin wars so Harry had at least tried to pay attention to the lecture. The Statute had a million different rules but they all had the same core principle, don't expose magic to muggles. Yep, Harry was screwed. In fact he was kind of shocked that he didn't have Aurors descending on his position at that very moment.
Suddenly paranoid Harry stood up and pulled out his wand as he cast quick glances around making sure to look at the sky for any flying brooms that may have been carrying any non-apparition using witch or wizard. Nothing caught his eyes but his attention turned to the bushes behind the bench he'd been sitting on as they began to shake. The low rustling that he could have passed off as the wind grew until Harry wasn't sure if something was shaking the bush or if the bushes were attempting to uproot themselves to start a campaign against humanity. Nervous but not backing down Harry leveled his wand at the greenery as he leaned out using the bench he'd been sitting on for cover. With a final shake out of the bush leapt a black cat, large but not unnaturally so, covered in scratches and scrapes panting from exertion. It had clearly been in some sort of struggle as the wounds were fresh and Harry could see blood still flowing from them. The cat seemed to sense his gaze as it cast what Harry would almost swear was an annoyed glance in his direction with large violet colored eyes.
Seeing that there was no imminent danger from the creature Harry pocketed his wand and strode towards the cat which began to back away. Harry quickly stopped approaching and squatted down holding an upturned hand towards the creature. The cat paused its retreat and turned its eyes from the hand to the human. It seemed to stare into Harry's eyes with an uncanny intelligence, the cat's violet gaze meeting Harry's emerald green seeming to boy like the cat was staring into his very soul.
The stare down continued until the cat seemed to find whatever it was it wanted in the boy and began to approach, confidently but still wary allowing Harry to note that it had a noticeable limp in its hind right leg. A sudden rustle from the bushes caused the two to turn and Harry to once again pull his wand from his pocket directing it at the shadows. However this time it was no cat hidden in the plant's shadow but a large black dog, almost the size of a an adult wolf or a juvenile bear. The size of the creature gave Harry pause and he unconsciously took a step backward. It was unfortunately at that exact moment the cat launched itself away from the dog and collided with the boy's chest causing Harry to fling his right arm, with wand in hand, towards the sky.
A loud bang accompanied by a sudden bright light caused Harry to cover his eyes as he lay on the ground and waited for them to adjust. Lowering his hand Harry was met with the shocking sight of a triple-decker purple bus which had seemingly materialized out of thin air. Gold lettering on the windshield provided Harry with a name, The Knight Bus.
As Harry watched disbelievingly a conductor dressed in the same violent purple as the bus stepped off the vehicle pulling out a note card that he began to read off of. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for your stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve-" The conductor's voice cut off as he caught sight of Harry who was sitting on the ground looking up at him with the same incredulous expression as the cat sitting on his lap. "What'cha doin' down there?"
"Fell over," said Harry.
"What you fall over for?" sniggered Stan who now that Harry was getting a good look at the man couldn't have been more than a few years older than him, eighteen or nineteen at most with a face decorated by acne scars.
"I didn't do it on purpose," said Harry annoyed. Remembering the big black, thing that had led to his fall he scrambled to his feet, the cat on his lap letting out an annoyed meow as it was forced to hop off. Picking up his wand Harry leveled it at the bushes only to see that there was nothing there.
"What 'choo looking at," the voice of the conductor caused Harry to spin around only to see the man standing just a little inside his comfort zone peering over Harry's shoulder at the bush with squinted eyes.
"Nothing," Harry said, seeing no sign of the beast. Shaking it off he looked at the man, "Did you say transport?"
The man looked at Harry annoyed, "That what I said ain't it? We'll take ya anywhere s'long as it's in Britain. Don't do none of tha' underwater pish posh or cross the Channel." Stan looked Harry over taking in the oversized clothes, cut jeans, and scrapes on his hands and knees which were now starting to bleed. "You did flag us down, dincha?" he said raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Harry said quickly, grabbing his trunk. "Need to get to the Leaky Cauldron, how much would that be?"
Stan absentmindedly scratched his chin while he lowered fingers on his other hand counting, "Eleven Sickles," he said finally, "but for thirteen ya get 'ot chocolate, and fifteen gets ya 'ot chocolate an' a toofbrush in your choice a color."
Harry reached into his trunk and shoved some silver into Stan's hands, "That enough?" he asked exasperatedly.
"Sure, sure," Stan said as he grabbed Harry's trunk and hauled it onto the bus before pausing to look over his shoulder at Harry. "Is tha' cat comin' too? Noticed it was with ya, it your familiar or somethin'?"
Harry looked back over his shoulder and sure enough the black cat hadn't run off but merely sat there staring at the two of them with it's piercing violet gaze. Harry thought about correcting the man, he already had Hedwig who was probably on her way back from delivering his Hogsmeade slip. If by some miracle Harry wasn't expelled within the next few days then he was sure glad he'd managed to get Aunt Petunia to sign the permission form by slipping it in amongst the bills. As he looked at the cat a sudden impulse caused Harry to pick it up, "Yeah the cat's with me."
As Harry stumbled off the Knight Bus cursing wizard transportation methods he swore that no matter how desperate he was he would NEVER ride that accursed bus again. The feeling of stretching and thinning was both nauseating and dissoriating and Harry had wanted to get off every second of the ride. At least it was over. "Well that was fun," Harry commented dryly. The cat in his arms shifted to stare up at the boy and Harry once again bore witness to her (when he'd rubbed her stomach nervously during the ride he'd felt several nipples or rather teats although his check had earned him a dark glare from the body's owner) unique intelligence as the cat cast him a look that clearly questioned his sanity. "No, I'm not going crazy; I was being sarcastic." With a dry look the cat turned away from him with an audible exhale. "Did you just huff at me?" Harry asked incredulously. The cat just ignored him staring at a man who was approaching the pair. "Tom!" Harry called out seeing the man who owned the restaurant that led to the British wizarding version of the Mall of America.
"Ah, Mr. Potter." The barkeeper said picking up Harry's trunk which Stan had dropped on the ground behind Harry before the Knight Bus had sped away. "It's good to see you again, we've been waiting on you."
"We?" Harry asked following the man inside.
Before Tom could respond, a new voice caught Harry's attention, "Mr. Potter, it's nice to finally meet you." The cat in Harry's arms began to struggle but Harry kept a firm grip on her as he plastered a fake smile on his face, something he'd had plenty of practice doing in front of others during his years with the Dursleys. Harry was predisposed to dislike the pudgy man in front of him as the last time he'd seen the man Fudge had been with Lucius Malfoy when they were arresting Hagrid for opening the Chamber of Secrets. He'd only said a few words but Harry had remembered the scene clearly, after all it wasn't everyday one of your friends was dragged off to the wizarding world's version of Alcatraz.
"Minister Fudge," Harry said in an overly cheerful voice, "it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you."
At that Fudge's smile which had felt fake to Harry took on a semblance of sincerity. "Only good things I hope," Harry gave a nervous laugh as he tried to figure out why Fudge would be there. He knew blowing up his aunt would come with consequences but he didn't think it was worth the Minister of Magic coming to deal with the issue himself.
As if he could read Harry's thoughts Fudge turned back to the Leaky Cauldron gesturing for Harry to follow. "Come Mr. Potter, we have quite a bit to talk about and I would rather discuss these issues, privately." Seeing no escape Harry followed the Minister inside and up a flight of stairs to a meeting room. Once the door was closed Fudge drew his wand and flicked it at the hearth setting it ablaze. "First off Mr. Potter, you should be happy to hear that we have already resolved the issues concerning your Aunt, she's been returned to her original size and a quick memory charm took care of the events of this evening. Additionally your relatives have agreed to take you back next summer provided that you do not return to them for the Christmas and Easter breaks."
At that Harry couldn't help but snort and when Fudge raised an eyebrow at the boy Harry was unable to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "I always stay at Hogwarts over breaks, trust me our feelings are mutual."
"Ah," Fudge said, nodding his head as if he understood though it was obvious he didn't know what the boy was talking about. He cleared his throat with a quick, "Hmm, hmm. Well I'm sure that some time apart will fix any, issues between you all. Anyway I would prefer it if you would stay here at the Leaky Cauldron for the remainder of your summer until it's time for you to return to Hogwarts."
Harry tried to bite his tongue but he was unable to control himself. "Hogwarts? You mean I'm not in trouble."
Fudge once again looked confused, "Trouble? Why would you be in trouble? Ahh," he gasped in understanding giving Harry a knowing smile, "you thought you were in trouble for blowing up your aunt." He waved his hand dismissively, "That was a bit of accidental magic, no harm done. As long as you didn't do it on purpose there's no need for you to be punished. It can happen to the best of us, I remember a few months ago I-"
Harry cut the man off confused, "But last year I received a warning from the Ministry when a house elf levitated a cake. It said one more trick like that and I'd be expelled from Hogwarts."
Fudge nervously adjusted his tie and Harry could have sworn he saw sweat on his forehead. "Well Mr. Potter situations...change. Surely you don't want to be expelled from Hogwarts."
"Of course not."
"Well then, what's the issue?" Fudge said clapping his hands together as if he'd just made the peace deal of the century. "I'll speak to Tom about setting you up with a room here. Hmm, probably another if I can get Amelia to assign you an Auror or two as a guard."
Fudge's hand was on the doorknob when Harry called after the Minister, "Wait why do I need an Auror escort?"
Fudge turned and opened and closed his mouth several times seeming to struggle with what to say before just grabbing the knob and leaving but not before giving Harry the vague instructions to ask them.
Alone in the meeting room Harry absently stroked the cat's head as he thought over what the Minister had said. Something was definitely going on and based on the fact that the Minister of Magic himself had shown up to meet Harry it was a safe bet that the Boy-Who-Lived was involved in some way. "Wonderful I'm in danger before school even begins, this school year's certainly off to a great start." The cat in his arms began to struggle but managed to turn so she was looking into his eyes seemingly confused. Once again Harry was caught off guard by the intelligence he saw in them but shook it off as a trick of the firelight coming from the hearth Fudge had lit. "Well let's go find Tom and see about that room."
As the door to Harry's new room, number 13, closed behind Tom, Harry turned to take it all in. To his right there was a very comfortable-looking bed next to a door that Harry assumed led to the bathroom. Directly across from where Harry stood was his dresser with a window which upon a tap from his wand would switch from a view of a deserted alleyway to a look at downtown Diagon Alley. On his left with a writing desk and a chair with a complimentary quill and inkwell lying on top in plain view next to some sheets of parchment. Surprisingly next to the desk was a hanging cage, likely for Hedwig although it was currently unoccupied. The room wasn't much but compared to the cupboard he'd grown up in it might as well have been Buckingham Palace.
The cat in his arms began to struggle so Harry quickly set her on the ground. She walked around exploring her new environment for a bit before strolling back to the bed where he'd sat down to watch her, hopping up to sit beside him. Looking the black cat over Harry noticed that the cuts and bruises which had decorated her body only an hour or two ago were smaller than they'd first appeared. "Guess you're magical after all," Harry noted with a weary grin, the cat meowing it's agreement. "Well come on," he said standing up and gesturing for her to follow. The cat looked at him for a moment, seeming to be considering something before it coiled its legs and with a powerful leap landed on his shoulder. Harry flinching from the sudden movement and weight now resting on his left shoulder. The cat shifted for a moment before lying down across the back of his neck draped over both shoulders. "You'll have to get off in a moment," Harry complained only to receive a meow in response.
Walking into the bathroom Harry noted that the room only contained the basics. A bathroom vanity with a medium sized mirror mounted above it which allowed Harry to take in the worn face and sunken, sleep deprived eyes that looked back at him a result of doing his homework at night while the Dursley's had slept. A small porcelain throne with water audibly dripping in the tank rested next to the vanity separating it from the tub which had a shower mounted on the wall above it. A divider was tied to a small hook in the wall with a worn ribbon next to the towel rack that hung across from the toilet.
Shaking his head to focus back on the task at hand Harry filled the tub with warm water and (after a quick call down to Tom along with a payment of a few gallons Harry had in his trunk) set up his inventory of shampoos, body washes, and healing ointments that the man had on hand and was willing to sell. Harry knew cats didn't like water but after a look from him the cat had gotten into the bath without resistance or help. Harry immediately set to work cleaning her fur of blood, dirt, and grime. Only after he'd done it three times did he feel comfortable drying her off so he could put the ointments on her.
Sitting on his bed rubbing the healing creams into her cuts that immediately began stitching themselves together (he knew from experience that it wouldn't hurt and only be an annoying itch) Harry began to talk. It started slow at first, hesitant, but it gradually grew in speed although he kept the same low voice not wanting anyone to overhear although there was no one there. He told her of growing up with the Dursleys, how he'd first learned his name when he was sent off to school and been called upon by the teacher. How he had failed to respond honestly believing until then that his name had been Freak. He told her about the beatings, whippings, starvation and general attempts to make his life miserable and beat the 'freakiness' out of him. How everything had changed when he received his letter, that it didn't just mean that he wasn't a freak but that it meant he could escape the hell that was his home life. Harry told his furry companion of things he'd never even told Ron and Hermoine, the only thing they knew was that he was neglected, but finally sharing the truth after all these years seemed to lift invisible weights from his back that Harry hadn't even realized he'd been carrying.
Then came the story of his first year: Gringotts and shopping, getting his wand whose brother had been Lord Voldemort's, meeting the Weasleys and Ron on the train, being sorted how he was a Gryffindor the hat had wanted to be a Slytherin, Quidditch and the curse on his broom, the troll on Halloween, the mirror of Erised how he saw not his parents as he'd told Dumbledore but a family; him with several vague figures that he somehow knew was his future family and children. Detention with Hagrid in the forest where he'd met the cloaked figure that was drinking unicorn blood (at this the cat had given him a look of horror to which he'd chuckled and scratched her behind her ear saying she was smart if she knew what that meant), discovering what was being hidden in the castle, how he and his friends had gone into the third floor corridor and faced the traps set by the professors in an attempt to keep it out of Snape's hands. The big reveal that Quirrell was the villain didn't get a response from his solo audience but when Harry described the face hidden behind the turban the cat had fallen off his lap onto the floor in shock. She looked up at him with a look he couldn't interpret as he described Quirrell's hands turning to dust upon touching him and how Harry had taken his life by grabbing his face only for a wraith of Voldemort to come out and flee. At the distress in his voice the cat had hopped back in his lap for Harry to continue petting. He quickly described waking up in the hospital wing, talking with Dumbledore, winning the house cup with the points Dumbledore had given them, and how despite his pleading and begging Dumbledore had sent him back to the Dursleys.
With the conclusion to his story Harry walked over to the window (forcing the cat to the floor when he stood up) opening it to let in a refreshing breeze. Looking back to the cat he gestured to the open window and ledge beside it, "I've cleaned you up now so you can head on out." The cat looked at him for a moment before with an aura of authority it leaped back onto the bed, walked in a circle and laid down eyes staring at him defiantly. Running a hand through the mop on his head that was his hair Harry sighed and walked over to reclaim his seat running a hand through her fur absentmindedly.
"Well," he said after a moment recalling what Stan had said about the cat being his familiar, "if you're gonna stick with me you'll need a name." Hearing that the cat looked up at him expectantly "How about Midnight?" He phrased it like a question and after a moment's consideration the cat shook her head no. "Too common?" he said with a teasing grin which earned him a scowl and upturned nose. "Fine how about, Twilight or Eclipse? They both have to do with night and they sound cool too?" The cat once again considered before nodding her head affirmative this time. "Twilight, okay then?" Once again the cat nodded positive and so Harry picked up his wand changing a nearby sliver of wood into a silver needle (having been told by Tom that the Trace failed to work in the presence of adult wizards or witches), pricking his right pointer finger he held it out towards Twilight.
As she licked the drop of blood that the wound produced he recited the chant he'd only used once before, "By blood I bind thee to my will, to stand at my side no matter my actions or foes. To serve as my eyes and ears, a faithful and loyal servant from now until the end of time. By my magic and blood so mote it be." A flash of magic and the ritual was complete. Smiling despite himself Harry scratched Twilight behind her ear as he looked out the window at Diagon Alley becoming active in the late night as shadier customers and vendors went about their way. "If you think my first year was interesting," he said, turning to look at his new familiar, "wait until you hear about what happened during my second year." With a yawn Harry got up and strode into the bathroom quickly brushing his teeth and changing he returned to climb into bed. He smiled as he looked down at Twilight curled up at the end of his bed almost protectively. "Good girl," he said softly as he drifted off into the hands of Morpheus.
Twilight watched her master until his breathing evened out. Once she was certain the boy was asleep she silently leapt off the bed thankful that her cat paws made it so she always landed softly and with an air of grace. Looking back to make sure her master hadn't awakened she straightened up and grew transforming from a larger than average black cat into a beautiful woman that looked to be in her mid to late twenties. With large perky breasts and curled black hair that fell in ringlets to her waist Bellatrix Lestrange certainly didn't appear like the standard Azkaban prisoner. She'd gone mad there she knew, the voices produced by the prison's guards haunting her head and ripping her sanity to shreds year after torturous year. It was only through sheer dumb luck that she'd gotten it back. The warden in an attempt to embezzle money from the Ministry had quietly begun to list the married female prisoners twice, once under their married name and again under their maiden one.
So it was that Bellatrix Lestrange nee' Black had become Bella Black moved next to her cousin Sirius in those hellish halls. For over five years she'd been there consumed in her madness while her cousin had somehow despite the odds retained his sanity. In a rare moment where she'd come to her senses she'd asked him how he'd done it, remained sane in what was about as close as you could get to hell on Earth. Her answer had been an arrogant sneer, "Unlike you Bella, darling cousin of mine, I'm innocent of the crimes I'm accused of. That simple fact allows me to hold onto the hope of getting revenge against the one who put me here. You on the other hand are guilty, likely of far more horrendous crimes than whatever the Ministry threw you in here for."
Bella had been quick to retort at her disappointment of a family. "Then why are you here, Siri? You're the Lord of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, there's no way in hell they threw you in here without reason. At your trial you..."
For the first time in Azkaban's long history laughter rang through the halls. Not the insane cackle that was the normal music of the place but a genuine laugh tinged with anger, regret, and self-pity; the surrealness of the noise silencing the calls and screams of the prisons other residents allowing Bellatrix to hear her cousin's faint whisper. "I never had a trial. The genius Crouch and his dumb as a doornail assistant Fudge caught me at the scene with a drawn wand and witnesses saying it was me. The man didn't even check the damn thing before he snapped it and threw me in here saying it was best the matter was resolved quickly to bring peace to the survivors of the war so everyone could just move on."
"You didn't get a trial?" Bellatrix was horrified, it was illegal for anyone to go to prison without a trial even in the Wizarding World. The scandal of someone being thrown in Azkaban without one and a Lord of a Most Noble and Most Ancient house at that; heads were sure to roll if the news ever got out. It was then that the madness had come again (along with the presence of the prison's guards) overtaking her so her mad cackles joined Sirius's frustrated laughter in a strange haunting duet that the other prisoners soon joined.
Over the years simply being able to have a humane conversation with someone (even if it was with her blood traitor of a cousin) in her moments of sanity had done wonders for Bellatrix's mind. Slowly, ever so slowly she gained back her since of self and with it came the dangerous mind that had made her top of her year at Hogwarts for every year she had been their. The conversations with her cousin became deeper venturing into things like politics and stances as each came to know the mindset of the other, their opinions as well as their support for their beliefs. After all it wasn't like either of them had anything else to do.
Then a month ago things had begun to change. Fudge had come to prison and handed Sirius a paper, something in it had caught Sirius's attention and retained it. The only thing she'd gotten out of him was that the rat was there, at Hogwarts. Of course an Auror had heard the last bit but it didn't matter only Bellatrix knew that her cousin was talking about a certain rat Animagus. What mattered more to her though was that in his sleep Sirius had whispered his plan to escape Azkaban. Luckily for Bellatrix she'd read up on the art and undergone the transformation in the early days of her Death Eater career, something her Master had been unwilling to do due to how much time one would need to dedicate to the task in order to complete it successfully. Only he knew that she was able to take the form of a black cat, the stereotypical familiar of a witch.
The escape had gone well with her following after Sirius so he wouldn't know that she was escaping too. Sirius had swam for shore like an idiot while she'd taken the much more simple route of stowing away on the boat that brought supplies to and from the island. The Aurors hadn't even searched the boat, after all what were the odds of someone actually escaping Azkaban. All they'd done was cast a quick Homenum Revelio that she had failed to show up on (one of the faults of the spell was it only showed humans not animals which she currently was) and then the boat was on its way.
It had taken a while but she'd made her way to Little Whinging where the famed Boy-Who-Lived that had brought down her master lived. Unfortunately Sirius had heard of her escape when the guards finally noticed three days later and reported it to the minister. The warden had been subsequently fired, locked up in the very prison he'd ruled over and Sirius had begun hunting her, determined to protect his godson and end what was a clear threat to his life. His Animagus form just had to be a rather large dog of course, didn't it. She'd been determined to kill the boy out of a sense of revenge, not for her master but for indirectly being the one responsible for sending her to Azkaban in the first place after all if the Dark Lord hadn't fallen by his hand there would have been no need for her and the others to attack the Longbottoms. Unfortunately the shock of stumbling directly into her target after a tussle with her cousin hadn't given Bellatrix a chance to kill him and the people surrounding him afterwards had made her delay herself once again. She had no desire to be captured and sent there ever again; she'd rather just off herself after completing her task.
Then her target had begun to tell her his story while taking care of her. She'd been horrified, even her upbringing wasn't that bad and here was the so called Savior of the wizarding world, an abused boy constantly underfed, starved, and beaten with more scars and broken bones than anybody had any right to have. The fact that he'd been able to overcome her Master once again had shocked her, so too had the methods her Lord had gone to to survive. Drinking unicorn blood of all things, that was practically a death sentence for him and his cause right there! Bellatrix personally didn't hate muggleborns or half-bloods, she couldn't care enough to. The only thing that she desired was power and her study of the dark arts had given her a lot of it. The only reason she'd served her master to begin with was the power he'd promised her, which with his defeat had quickly brought about her undoing.
When Harry had offered her the window she'd been tempted to take it, to leave and start anew but something had held her back, a whisper in her mind. 'If this is how strong he is going into his third year, imagine what he could become.' She had done so and shivered though from arousal, fear, or desire she didn't know. The only thing certain was that she would stay by his side to see what he became. The familiar ritual was tempting but if she was discovered she would be separated from her new master and thrown back into Azkaban without a second thought. Luckily the ritual was similar to an enslavement one she'd read about during her time conducting research in the Black family library. She'd altered a few things and now she was a slave to one Harry James Potter.
She looked at her left arm where the dark mark had once been seared into her flesh. It had been replaced by the mark of her new master. A snake curled around a lighting bolt that cut through the vague shape of a triangle that seemed to flicker in and out of existence behind the bolt and serpent. A powerful beast next to the most powerful of the natural elements all over one of the Deathly Hallows. She poked it and could feel a connection between her and her master as well as one other.
Concerned she focused on the other one who was in the connection. Whatever or whoever it was they were in the air somewhere over London making its way towards her and her master. As Bellatrix looked out the window she caught sight of a white snowy owl gliding in to land on the window ledge. The owl looked at her alertly for a moment, clearly ready to defend her sleeping master before the owl caught sight of Bellatrix's new mark and visibly relaxed. "Well hello, sweetie." Bellatrix cooed softly, "Who might you be?" the owl looked at her for a moment before turning to the sleeping form of Harry and back again. "You're his?" Bellatrix asked for confirmation only for a slight head bob to be her response. "Well then, let's take good care of him," Bellatrix said after a moment of silence as the two servants looked over the sleeping body of their master. The owl hooted in acknowledgment and flew to the open cage to sit and rest.
Shifting into her cat form Bellatrix leaped onto the window ledge before making her way down to Diagon Alley. It was likely the Aurors Fudge had sent for would arrive in the morning and depending on who it was and how skilled they were Bellatrix might not be able to make her way out for a midnight stroll for a while. As it was she had quite a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. She needed a new wand, books on the dark arts so she could teach her master, books on politics and pure-blood society so he'd be able to carry himself no matter the social circle he moved in. If she had time after doing all that she wanted to make a trip to Grimmauld Place to retrieve some books from the Black Library and maybe speak to her Aunt's picture.
She also needed to do some research. She found it suspicious that first years had been able to so easily overcome the professors traps. Suspicious also was the fact that a pure-blooded witch had so willingly used such terms as muggles, Hogwarts, and Platform 9 ¾ in public especially asking where it was when based on what her new master said, the witch already had numerous offspring that attended the school. The fool was practically asking to expose the Statute of Secrecy, was she trying to get arrested or rather form a connection with Harry Potter one the unknowing boy would likely be unable to see coming with his lack of knowledge about the world he was entering? Also why was Dumbledore so determined that Harry stay with his relatives? It was incredibly unlikely the old fool didn't had some means of tracking the boy and keeping track of his health and wellbeing. That meant that the old fart had to at least have some suspicions or knowledge of how the boy was treated. It was only suspicions Bellatrix possessed but she was determined to find out the truth. She was her master's slave and she would protect him by any means necessary. One thing she knew with certainty though, he was NEVER going back to those horrible muggles the Dursleys. 'In fact,' she thought with a sinister grin, ' she might need to pay them a visit if she got the chance. It had been over a decade since she'd last cast her Unforgivable curses after all, she was out of practice.'
Author's Note:
Hello everyone it's certainly been awhile since I posted anything hasn't it? Well my main reason is simple, I've been too busy to write. Now I'm not dropping anything but I'm being forced to focus on my college applications and getting things like the common app taken care of. I'm still writing but it'll take longer for me to update and write than it normally does so be patient and give me some time please. Hopefully within the next few months (by the start of the new year at the latest) I can get everything sorted out and sent in so I can get back to doing what I love. Thank you for your patience and for sticking with me through the thick and thin.
Okay now down to business this is a new story based off of a challenge where Bellatrix escapes Azkaban and becomes Harry's familiar. Is a really good idea and has some great responses, one of which is His Loyal Pet by Just a Lonely Lorekeeper who I highly recommend reading (stories in my favorites if you want to check it out). Anyway will have some bashing and dark stuff but I think it'll be a fun read all things considered. Make sure to check out my other stories and don't forget to comment and review. I read them all and enjoy everyone of them. Anyway until next time au revoir.
Sincerely your favorite Lord of Hell,
D'yavol Lucifer 3:)
Next Chapter:
Blood, Heir, and Betrotheds