"Even if she resisted Sonny, even if she was angry at Sonny, she trusted him because he had been right so many times."
-Someone speaking about Cher and Sonny
x
x
x
He was the only thing in her life that had ever lasted.
Everything else has either gone away like the rain and the clouds. Everything else has left like pumpkin juice quickly drunken, and Hogwarts years gone by.
Except for Him.
He always visits her, even if it's late, or too early. And he's not terribly kind either. But if you only have one person that's constant...it really doesn't matter.
So sometimes he's not very nice and sometimes he says: "Cry me a river and get over it, Bella." And other rude things like that. These words are not welcome, I mean, who would like to hear such things? Not her.
She's always been used to masking the truth and masking her life for so long that she is the part now. She has become the part. The Princess with curly charred hair and bubblegum lips and pale skin. Eyes that could haunt you in your sleep--dark blue rivers.
He's always been perceptive, and no one ever tells. He knows people like he knows the back of his very own hand. He's one of the best manipulator's you've ever seen--or haven't for that matter. He can see through her, and it's fairly difficult too.
For she is his cousin and sometimes you just know things like that.
He forces her to eat regularly for she is skinny now. (("God, just eat it!")) Too skinny and she's always cold so he has to wrap an emerald blanket around her and burn a fire. She doesn't like the fire, says it reminds her of bad things: "What bad things?" He asks, suddenly. "Bad things," she says gravely with a nod and sort of whimpers.
He bought her a stuffed dog from up in Hogsmeade once, a long time ago. She said it was silly, but hugged it tightly anyway. She named it 'Shepherd.'
"You can't make things better anymore, Black," she said severely, "you can't make something from someone who's already nothing." He slapped her then, hard. She was seventeen then, he was nineteen.
Sometimes they'd go out in ol' pubs and he'd show her around to Remus, James, and Peter. Remus always wanted to dance with her, Sirius always said: "That's my cousin." So Remus and Bella danced when Sirius went off for another drink, and when he saw the two, Remus holding his darling cousin he punched Remus. It wasn't pretty.
She got older, as people generally usually do, and she was still a scared little girl who read Quidditch Through the Ages like the Bible, and drank and cursed like a sailor.
She had her cousin's eyes.
There was--shall we say--a final battle, because he would've liked to call it as such. A simple duel isn't half as dramatic. She killed him then, and it was quick and swift--and relatively painless. Too painless for her liking. It was almost playful, he was almost taunting her.
She doesn't remember much of that day, a bit of blood, a bit of emptiness, a bit of the feeling that her 'forever' was lost and gone and dead. A bit of contentment, a bit of smirking.
Her tarnished walnut wand put back into her navy blue coat pocket.
It was the end of life, as Bellatrix knew it; it was the end of all good things and all bad things. It was the beginning of emptiness and resentment. The beginning of winter and coldness.
It was like Halloween Night. But this time...this time the masks were off and the candy stung your hurt tongue.
It's Halloween Night...stay inside
&