Disclaimer: Not mine but JKRs' I just mess with them a little bit
Rating: PG13 I think
Pairing. Will be H/D later on
Genre: Romance
Returning
I hear your voice call my name
It's calling me home again
A spark of the fire
A flame that still burns
It's to you I'll always return
It was night, the kind of night that wrapped itself around you and could either suffocate you with its blackness, or comfort you with the bittersweet escape of obliviousness.
This night was darker than ever before. Not one sound could be heard within the forest, not even the rustling of the leaves of the trees, towering around the small clearing. The darkness lay like a heavy cloak above the ground and swallowed everybody and everything, the people who wanted to forget welcomed this kind of darkness, for it was much kinder than that of the nights when the shadows crept over the trees and formed figures that reminded.
The stranger, who was sitting with his back propped against the broad trunk of a tree, liked this kind of night, for it was then only that he could find a few hours of peace. Just in the hour between dawn and night, when the saying supposed that the night was the darkest, he would allow himself to sleep, for then he would not see the face of the one he had loved once so deeply.
As he opened his eyes, he took in his surroundings; a light frown flitted over his face. The fire had burned down, and it was cold, but little did it matter, for he had experienced far worse than that.
Could he have seen himself, he would have asked himself when the change had started to take place. He no longer was the tall scrawny boy; he had been 10 years ago. But apart from the lean build which spoke of thorough exercise, and the cautious movements which told a tale of many adventures, his eyes were the one trait that told the story of his life.
Those sad eyes, that held so many secrets but told willingly the story of a great loss, and wisdom greater than anybody at the age of 25 should posses. He had seen far too much and far too cruel things that it could have gone by without affecting him.
The wind that had slept throughout the night started to blow again, and he flinched as if he had been hit by somebody.
'Not again! I can't bear it anymore. It drives me insane. Why can't the wind stop? I hear the wind call your name; it calls me back home again! I know that you are gone and I have no home, never had a true home until you gave me one. But now?'
He stood up; he had work ahead to do.
As he entered the small village he looked around carefully. His informant had tipped him of on that horrible woman Bellatrix Lestrange, and he was about to make her pay for everything that she had done, after her escape out of Azkaban. She had taken everything from him that he held dear and she would pay hell for doing so!
It had taken him more than 8 years to track her down, and although her master was dead, she still pursued his aims and proved herself worthy of being called his left hand.
He smirked at the thought that the right hand had been killed by his very own hands. But he whatsoever could feel nothing but emptiness whenever that pale face rushed back into his mind.
That Bastard had killed his only love and had laughed at the sight of his agony. Malfoy had never known what hit him as he had cast the killing curse upon him, this time truly wanting that he died.
But Lestrange still was alive and on the run, in the afternoon he found the house that was supposed to be her hideout.
As he knew that she was alone by now, he silently entered into the house. Everything was quiet and peaceful, not a trace of a witch who killed without scruple.
Several photographs stood on the table next to the window. He intended to inspect them later, suspecting they might reveal some more remaining deatheathers. But for now He went upstairs.
He cast an invisibility charm upon himself. As he entered the room quietly, he was wondering when it had become so easy to kill people. The woman in the bed did not resemble Bellatrix at all.
For a brief second he stopped thinking he had made a mistake. But then decided to cast a disguise checking charm, he himself had developed. "Revealoura" And her form seemed to blur. When the charm had worked, he found himself looking into the face of the sleeping Lestrange.
'She looks almost peaceful, if I didn't know what I know about her, I might wish to give her a second chance. But as this is not the case…' With a swift movement of his wand he placed a combined charm upon her. It not only drained her of all magic, but also led to death in a very painful way.
The victim died of internal bleeding, after suffering several days. He found himself almost regretting his choice when she opened her eyes, and looked at him.
As she recognized him, her eyes grew wide and she said in a voice that revealed her to be already in great pain: "Now you got me at last, and chose to make me feel pain, just like you feel. I should have known that the darkness inside you is the same I have in myself!"
He stood just there eyed her warily and spoke in a hushed whisper,"What do you know of pain? True your body hurts, but pain of the heart you will never understand!"
She replied: "I loved him, even though I had to kill him, and finally I can return to him. Although I know I will have a few more days of suffering ahead of me."
He stared at her incredulously: "Don't you dare speaking of love! You laughed when he fell backwards you could have reached him!"
"And what good would it have done? He hated me with all he had, it went all wrong from the beginning and therefore had to end. When I go on I will be cleared of my crimes, although it might take me longer to wake up on the other side. I loved him with a passion beyond your comprehension!"
He remained silent for several minutes, and then asked: "Did you hear the wind call your name, and did you hear it calling you home?"
Several minutes later she answered: "When he was still alive it did, before I married someone else, and lost myself it did every night. And it never completely stopped until the day he died at my hands; it is a spark of a fire, a flame that still burns.'
Comprehension dawned on his face: "Are you saying that the one I love is still alive?"
"Well only then you can hear the wind…"
Silence crept into the room. Finally he raised his voice again
"Bellatrix, do you want to die?" Harry asked the woman.
"I died a long ago, and nothing I do can bring me back to life!" She replied sadly closing her eyes as if in pain.
"No, do you want me to kill you? Fast and without pain?" Harry asked feeling sorry for her.
Unbelievingly she opened her eyes, blood trickled down her chin. "You would be so kind? After all that I have done? Why?"
"Because I know that in order to stay sane, in some way or another we all do desperate things." Harry said looking into her eyes.
"I have never been sane to begin with, and that is no excuse. But please let me go easier, than that. Please let me return into my mother's womb and descend onto earth in a different form, together with my lover!" She said pleading with him.
"Alright, I hope you find your peace." Harry said as he raised his wand, but before he could speak the words she said barely audible.
"Let the wind guide you, it calls you home!"
He nodded and spoke "Mortere!" He eyes slid closed and her body relaxed. She looked almost serene.
He smiled, and said quietly "I hope you returned to him."
When he was about to leave the house, his eyes caught a picture. It showed a young man and a small girl standing together.
And he left. It was time to return…
A spark of the fire
A flame that still burns
Its to you I'll always return.
