"Dry Her Eyes"
By Loki Palmer
Author's Note: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The Avengers belong to Marvel Comics and Stan Lee.
Yaw613: You are one out of my many fans; don't feel too bad. I'm glad for the support.
Dagda06117032: Aye, indeed, that is an additional consequence of great age!
Chapter 9
Azkaban. The mere mention of the infamous magical prison caused the faces of many wizards and witches to pale in terror. Nobody in his right mind would want to visit there, and although some theologians of the British Wizarding World thought it was Hell on Earth, this opinion was a bit inaccurate. When the notorious Evil One visited the cursed island prison a long time ago, he thought it was worse than Hell, so he decided to let the Dementors keep it while he chose to remain in the frozen lake of Hell's Ninth Circle of Treachery, where the Almighty had condemned him to exist with other traitors, such as Judas Iscariot, Brutus and Cassius.
Nobody knew the age of the prison nor its exact origin – hypotheses abounded on both questions, nobody dared to test any of them – but it had been there as long as anyone could remember. As the Old Norse invaders rowed in their longboats from Scandinavia to the land of England, they could not see the prison, but they felt an unknown terror chill their bones as they passed near to its boundaries in the stormy North Sea. A great relief washed over them when the terror had passed. Quick was the word going through the sailing crews that a portion of this sea appeared to be cursed – perhaps it could be a doorway to Hel.
(In the pagan beliefs of the Old Norse, Hel was a nothing more than a realm for dead people – not just an area of punishment as in the Hell of Christian belief. Souls who had died a heroic death would go to Valhalla, but everybody else would go to Hel.)
Like in ancient Greek mythology, the Old Norse names for the Underworld and the deity who ruled over it were the same. Hel was not an evil goddess per se, though many mortals feared Her. As a daughter of Loki the Trickster, She could understand why even the Asgardians recoiled in Her presence. One half of Her was gorgeous to behold, but the other … it looked like Hell … pun intended. Cue the rimshot and laughter.
She and the Allfather had an understanding between Them as far as the dead mortals were concerned. She would keep Her eyes wide open in watch for any enemies that may be a threat to the Nine Realms, and the enemies She faced made the common mistake of underestimating Her, much to their peril. Hers was the fury of Ragnarǫk itself. She would bring said fury on anyone who dared mess with one special person in Her long existence:
Her little brother!
~DRY HER EYES~
A generation before Her brother came into the world of Midgard, Hel disguised Herself as a human – Bellatrix Black – to investigate a disturbance She felt in the Void. When She discovered the source of this disturbance – Tom Marvolo Riddle, perhaps the greatest genius in the study of Dark Magic since Gellert Grindelwald – She confessed Herself intrigued by his necromantic experiment.
(In the past, a number of Dark wizards had attempted to make one soul anchor, or Horcrux. These had limited success in prolonging their normal mortal longevity, although Death came for them all the same. Tom Marvolo Riddle was the first to attempt several Horcruxes at the same time.)
Upon seeing the results – his handsome face had become reptilian, megalomania had taken over his mind, and his psychotic mood swings made even his most loyal followers uneasy – She had wanted to vomit in disgust. For a Dark wizard, of course murder and torture were par for his chosen course … but to hide several pieces of his split mortal soul in several material objects after performing several cold-blooded murders … that required an Evil of a caliber most abominable.
~DRY HER EYES~
When the Aurors arrested Her for attacking Franklin and Alice Longbottom, She went to Azkaban cackling all the way. In Her defense, She might have claimed the Longbottom parents laughed themselves into insanity when She told them She had come for Neville … but nobody would have believed that. Nobody would have believed Her reason why She had come for Neville either …
~FLASHBACK~
During the summer before Harry's third year at Hogwarts, She came to Sirius's cell.
"Sirius?"
He opened a pair of groggy eyes. "Bella – how did you get out?"
"I have my ways. I have heard you saying he's at Hogwarts. Who is this?"
"Peter Pettigrew. He sold the Potters out to Voldemort, then he framed me for the betrayal, cut off his finger to make it look like I killed him, blew up a gas line to kill 13 Muggles for good measure, and ran away as the cowardly rat he was."
"Let Me guess: you were too obvious a choice for the Secret Keeper."
"Bingo. I would have died for my friends rather than betray them."
"That would have been a death Voldemort would have been too happy to arrange, but not without Me to protect you."
"You? Aren't you one of the most psychotic people on his forces?"
"Many are the people who have called Me crazy, but as to the charge of being a member of that snake-faced bastard's forces –" She lifted Her sleeve.
"Your arm's blank."
"OF COURSE IT'S BLANK! WHY WOULD YOU THINK I SHOULD WORSHIP HIM FOR ONE BLOODY SECOND, WHEN WE CONSIDER THE WAY HE LET RUDOLPHUS AND RABASTAN TREAT ME?!"
"They did that to you?! Why didn't you let Lord Orion Black know – he would have made them pay! I would have made them pay!"
"Thank you, Sirius, but there was no need to tell your Lord Father … I broke their minds in vengeance," she said with a grin. "Mortals don't call Me the Lady of Nightmares for nothing."
Seeing the wildness in Bellatrix's eyes was enough to convince Sirius She was telling the truth. "You say that like you're not a mortal."
"I'm wearing the disguise of a mortal, but you're right – I'm not." Her mortal form disappeared.
Sirius's mouth dropped open. "Bloody Hell!"
She gave him a cold grin. "That's My name, without the Bloody, please don't wear it out. How do you know Pettigrew is alive?"
He handed Her the newspaper clipping he received from Minister Fudge. "You see the rat on the young boy's shoulder? He's missing a toe."
"Sirius, listen to Me. If Pettigrew won't think twice about betraying the Potters to Voldemort, he won't think twice of an opportunity to betray Harry either. You have to ensure Harry's safety as his godfather."
"Won't the Ministry hunt me down?"
"No doubt it will, but which do you think is the greater danger: the Ministry, or My wrath's descent upon you if you let My little brother get hurt?"
"I would have to say Option B is worse." Sirius shook his head. "Wait a minute … Harry is –"
"My brother? Yes … how much have you forgotten, you old mutt? Have you forgotten how close we were?"
"I must have forgotten about it, because that sounds like news to me."
Bella rolled Her eyes and stared at Sirius. A curious Sirius stared back at Her, and his eyes widened in shock as memories flooded his mind … happier memories concerning his godson and another boy … one that belonged to him and Her …
"Frank and Alice Longbottom stole our precious boy from us! While you were chasing down the cowardly rat nobody should have trusted, I went to get our son back!"
"People say you tortured the Longbottoms into insanity."
She shrugged Her shoulders. "So I did. I believe mortals have a saying: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Spend enough time within My full aura, and you will go mad …"
Sirius grinned. "A Lady after my own heart."
After looking around to ensure they were alone, Bella waved Her hand and opened Sirius's cell. "Ganga, þú kjøter … finna bróðurinn minn!" (Go, thou mutt … find my brother!)
Sirius may not have understood the language, but he understood the intent of Her command. As Padfoot, he gave Her a slobbery kiss and walked out of the cell, tail wagging.
"Æsirnir sé með þik," (May the Æsir be with thee), She said as She re-entered Her cell.
~END FLASHBACK~
In the recent months since Yule of Harry's fourth year, Hel had noticed a change within the air. Even though Azkaban was miles away from Hogwarts, She could sense Her brother's power awakening. The time was at hand for Her to join forces with him.
"Mistress, is it time?" said Rudolphus.
"Are You going to leave us, Mistress?" said Rabastan.
"You two have been good servants to Me, but it is time. Fear not; you and all your fellow inmates will be in My home, where you belong."
They bowed to Her. "We live to serve, Mistress."
She walked out of Her cell. A passing guard saw Her, and raised his wand. "Get back in your cell, prisoner!"
"Well, aren't you a rude guest – telling the Lady of the House what She can and cannot do? I just feel like taking a little stroll, because it is cramped in that cell!"
"Avada Ked – ACK!"
Before the guard could blink, Hel had grabbed his wand and used it to pin him in the larynx to the wall, so he could not scream. "Guest right revoked." Blocks of the wall shifted to trap him there.
The Dementors approached. "Dróttningin vár?" (Our Queen?)
"Sveinar mínir, kjósið einn mann orð galdramǫninnum senda," (My servants, choose one man to send a word to the wizards.)
"Hvat orð vill Þú senda?" (What word dost Thou want to send?)
"Hel hafa Miðgarði kominn, skuldirnar Sínar gjalda," (Hel has come to Midgard, Her debts to pay.)
"Ok mennina aðrir?" (And the other men?)
"Mér þeir eru vættki …" (To Me, they are nothing …)
She looked up at the guard whom the Dementors chose. "Unless you wish to join your fellow guards in Death, mortal, I suggest you run. Hel has come, to pay Her debts. Be a dear, and tell your Ministry that. As for Azkaban, I am reclaiming it for My kingdom."
With a screech that made the guard pale, the prison of Azkaban sank into the North Sea. Auror Jenkins ran out as fast as his legs could take him. The grizzled captain of the dinghy looked at him in shock.
"What in blazes was that?"
"What does it look like? SHUT UP AND ROW!"
"No arguments there! Lor' A'mighty preserve us!"
They Disapparated away as soon as they reached the shore. Hel watched them leave with a grin on Her face …
Author's Note: Another chapter done. Read and review!
Smiles and laughter,
Loki Palmer