Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its characters are not mine. The
writing of this however is. In light of this, however, I am making no money
whatsoever off of this project, and by putting this little disclaimer at
the top, my writing this is suddenly legal. Thank you.
Blurb: "Some say that love and hate are two entirely different things. I disagree. One cannot hate unless they first love." Bellatrix introspect at her trial for the torture of the Longbottoms.
Author's Notes: This ficlet is inspired by a few fanfics I read where people decided to write introspect on how they think the characters think. While listening to Breaking Benjamin's song "So Cold," I decided that I disagree with most interpretations of Bellatrix Lestrange as well as Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort and most of the Death Eaters. So, I decided to write a fic of my own to explain how I see them. Possible multiparter, I haven't decided. For now, just Bella drabble. Read and review please, very appreciated.
Love and Hatred
"Some say that love and hate are two entirely different things. I disagree. One cannot hate unless they first love."
I can remember when he first told me that, so long ago. I was young then. Not the child that the rumors of me would suggest, no, I was a woman but I was young. Fresh out of Hogwarts, I had just married and my mother was pressuring me to start a family. What she does not understand is that I hadn't married for love, and had no intentions of ever continuing the Lestrange and Black line.
My marriage had been one of arrangement. Pureblood families often arrange for the children to marry without their consent, but that was not how it happened with me. I suppose I would never have agreed if it had been. No, I met Rodolphus during my days at Hogwarts and befriended him. We were close, he and I, but never intimate. When my family began pressuring me to marry, he was the logical choice; a man who would not expect loyalty of me, who knew better than to demand my attentions be his and his alone.
I suppose Rodolphus will always have my respect for that, as he understood even before our marriage that someone else had won my heart. My dark Adonis, my fire in the night, and I would willingly be in the shadows cast by the brightness of his power. We had yet to meet, but he had won me. I had heard of his tales, and like a princess from the stories I read as a child, I had fallen and fallen hard.
It had been Rodolphus who had gotten his attention. A young man, former Slytherin prefect, fairly talented wizard in his own right, pureblood. He was everything that one would come to expect from the Dark Lord's followers. When he came to meet Rodolphus, however, it was I who stole the show. I had promised myself to be noticed, and noticed I was.
Some would expect me to win attention through feminine wiles, and given my beauty, I was and still am more than capable of doing so. However, it was not through my looks that I got his attention, but my temperament. I could see it from the moment I descended from the stairs that his eye had fallen on not Rodolphus, but me. Naturally, out of respect, he feigned more interest in my husband, but when the questions were asked, it was of me, and not of Rodolphus. If my husband was jealous, he hadn't shown it. Rodolphus understood then and understands now that of the two of us, I am the more gifted.
We spent months together, he and I. He taught me everything that was ever worth learning. First, he taught me love. And then, he taught me hate.
It is not fear that binds me to him. I know that now. It is true that I fear his wrath and his power, but more than that, I fear to disappoint. I fear to see in his eyes the same with me as he shows with all of the other Death Eaters. What binds me to my lord is not fear but a combination of love and of hate. After all, one cannot hate unless they first love.
In order to hate something, you must first love it. Otherwise, it's simply not hatred. You can despise and dislike, but when it all boils down to it, you'll never know hatred until you've experienced love. Love and hate are parallels, like dark and light, and they depend on one another for existence. Hate is the darkness borne of love, brought out in the night. Hate is the shadow cast into hearts, created only by love.
"If you can't hate unless you love, then how is it that you hate?"
I remember asking him that. A young woman, twenty-five and so in love that I was and still am ready to die for him. He was sitting comfortably in a chair, and I stood across the room gazing out a window at the sunset.
"Because I have known love," came his reply, so calm and self- assured.
"You've known love, Master?" I remember asking.
It had felt like an eternity to wait for his response. He had taught me, so easily, that to love another human being is weakness. To hear such words come from my master's mouth, it had been like a slap to the face. Yet, his response, when it finally came, restored my high opinion of him.
"Not in the sense of the word you're thinking of, my dear Bella. I have known love of another kind, a kind unique to me, and so I have learned to hate. My love is of power, of strength, and my hatred is for all that stands polar to that. My hatred is for weakness, Bella, and all that comes with it."
And all that comes with it, he had said, and it had taken me years to completely understand what he meant. But I do now, and his beliefs are what strengthen my loyalty to him. Even as I stand at a trial before the Ministry of Magic to be sentenced to life in the prison of Azkaban, I remain loyal, I hold firm. I will go to Azkaban willingly and wait.
For surely, my Master who hates weakness and sees Death as such, will one day return for me, his loyal servant whose faith in him has never wavered.
Blurb: "Some say that love and hate are two entirely different things. I disagree. One cannot hate unless they first love." Bellatrix introspect at her trial for the torture of the Longbottoms.
Author's Notes: This ficlet is inspired by a few fanfics I read where people decided to write introspect on how they think the characters think. While listening to Breaking Benjamin's song "So Cold," I decided that I disagree with most interpretations of Bellatrix Lestrange as well as Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort and most of the Death Eaters. So, I decided to write a fic of my own to explain how I see them. Possible multiparter, I haven't decided. For now, just Bella drabble. Read and review please, very appreciated.
Love and Hatred
"Some say that love and hate are two entirely different things. I disagree. One cannot hate unless they first love."
I can remember when he first told me that, so long ago. I was young then. Not the child that the rumors of me would suggest, no, I was a woman but I was young. Fresh out of Hogwarts, I had just married and my mother was pressuring me to start a family. What she does not understand is that I hadn't married for love, and had no intentions of ever continuing the Lestrange and Black line.
My marriage had been one of arrangement. Pureblood families often arrange for the children to marry without their consent, but that was not how it happened with me. I suppose I would never have agreed if it had been. No, I met Rodolphus during my days at Hogwarts and befriended him. We were close, he and I, but never intimate. When my family began pressuring me to marry, he was the logical choice; a man who would not expect loyalty of me, who knew better than to demand my attentions be his and his alone.
I suppose Rodolphus will always have my respect for that, as he understood even before our marriage that someone else had won my heart. My dark Adonis, my fire in the night, and I would willingly be in the shadows cast by the brightness of his power. We had yet to meet, but he had won me. I had heard of his tales, and like a princess from the stories I read as a child, I had fallen and fallen hard.
It had been Rodolphus who had gotten his attention. A young man, former Slytherin prefect, fairly talented wizard in his own right, pureblood. He was everything that one would come to expect from the Dark Lord's followers. When he came to meet Rodolphus, however, it was I who stole the show. I had promised myself to be noticed, and noticed I was.
Some would expect me to win attention through feminine wiles, and given my beauty, I was and still am more than capable of doing so. However, it was not through my looks that I got his attention, but my temperament. I could see it from the moment I descended from the stairs that his eye had fallen on not Rodolphus, but me. Naturally, out of respect, he feigned more interest in my husband, but when the questions were asked, it was of me, and not of Rodolphus. If my husband was jealous, he hadn't shown it. Rodolphus understood then and understands now that of the two of us, I am the more gifted.
We spent months together, he and I. He taught me everything that was ever worth learning. First, he taught me love. And then, he taught me hate.
It is not fear that binds me to him. I know that now. It is true that I fear his wrath and his power, but more than that, I fear to disappoint. I fear to see in his eyes the same with me as he shows with all of the other Death Eaters. What binds me to my lord is not fear but a combination of love and of hate. After all, one cannot hate unless they first love.
In order to hate something, you must first love it. Otherwise, it's simply not hatred. You can despise and dislike, but when it all boils down to it, you'll never know hatred until you've experienced love. Love and hate are parallels, like dark and light, and they depend on one another for existence. Hate is the darkness borne of love, brought out in the night. Hate is the shadow cast into hearts, created only by love.
"If you can't hate unless you love, then how is it that you hate?"
I remember asking him that. A young woman, twenty-five and so in love that I was and still am ready to die for him. He was sitting comfortably in a chair, and I stood across the room gazing out a window at the sunset.
"Because I have known love," came his reply, so calm and self- assured.
"You've known love, Master?" I remember asking.
It had felt like an eternity to wait for his response. He had taught me, so easily, that to love another human being is weakness. To hear such words come from my master's mouth, it had been like a slap to the face. Yet, his response, when it finally came, restored my high opinion of him.
"Not in the sense of the word you're thinking of, my dear Bella. I have known love of another kind, a kind unique to me, and so I have learned to hate. My love is of power, of strength, and my hatred is for all that stands polar to that. My hatred is for weakness, Bella, and all that comes with it."
And all that comes with it, he had said, and it had taken me years to completely understand what he meant. But I do now, and his beliefs are what strengthen my loyalty to him. Even as I stand at a trial before the Ministry of Magic to be sentenced to life in the prison of Azkaban, I remain loyal, I hold firm. I will go to Azkaban willingly and wait.
For surely, my Master who hates weakness and sees Death as such, will one day return for me, his loyal servant whose faith in him has never wavered.