Fall into Darkness

by Useful Oxymoron

Almost twelve years after the end of the second war, Bellatrix is well on the path of healing her mental instabilities with more than a little help of a very determined Hermione. When during a holiday getaway to a magnificent caldera lake in the lovely woods of the Pacific West her beloved Hermione is taken from her, Bellatrix will have to rely on her lingering inner darkness to co

23. Adversary

Fall into Darkness

Chapter 23: Adversary

"You made it out alive!" her other self cackled. Stood on the van as she did, this was an experience beyond surreal. That was her voice, her mannerism, her countenance. Or rather, as it used to be. She knew herself. She knew herself well enough to know that this person in front of her was dangerous beyond reckoning.

Bellatrix stepped forward, determined not to show any sign of weakness. "You bloody cunt! You tried to kill me with playground equipment!"

The other Bellatrix pouted sightly. "So mean," she then grinned. "There just might be enough of me left in you to make a difference."

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Bellatrix demanded, even though in heart and mind she already knew the answer.

A grin and a girlish giggle followed, with the woman dancing on top of the van as if she was a ballerina. "Bellatrix Lestrange, of course! Oh, don't give me that look. You're the divorcee, silly. Technically, I am still married. Though, if you like, you may call me Miss Scratch. It's what Zaney calls me. Probably for the best too. It's hard to keep track when two characters have the same name, you see? Confuses the readers and all that rot."

Miss Scratch. Zane had warned Bellatrix not to acknowledge her. And yet here she was doing that in spades.

"But what do I know?" Miss Scratch shrugged. "I'm just a figment of your imagination."

That was a lie. Zane had told her that Miss Scratch was a real separate… something. The result of a mistake he had made. And right now, Bellatrix trusted Thomas Zane a whole lot more than she did this facsimile of her former self.

Miss Scratch squatted playfully on the van, looking down at her with a grin. "Maybe you are the figment, hm? Even consider that."

Bellatrix scoffed. "Thats absolute bonkers. I know I exist."

Miss Scratch pouted. "Oh and everything before just made perfect sense, no?" she winked before standing up and pointing to a path leading into the forest. "Anyway, you should probably listen to Zane. He's been here forever. Quite literally. Time has no meaning here. You could be here for a thousand years to ten minutes and you wouldn't know the difference. Unless you've been here longer. If that even makes sense in a place where time has no meaning. So chop, chop, get moving."

Bellatrix crossed her arms and glared at her double. "Why the bloody hell are you so helpful all of a sudden?"

"The mood suits me," Miss Scratch raised her chin imperiously. "But I am a fickle lady, as you well know, so you'd best hope I don't change my mind."

The dark witch glowered at her younger double, feeling the urge to rub her temples. "Merlin above, I used to be fucking annoying… All of this is insane."

Another giggle. "And if you call this insane and it's all created by your own mind, what does that say about you, hm? In fact, you should be thanking me for my help!"

Bellatrix snarled angrily. "Thank you?! You threw playground equipment at me!"

Miss Scratch let out an exasperated sigh raising her hands to accentuate her point. "To bring out the beast in you! To make you strong and focused!"

"Whatever," Bellatrix muttered and strode off towards the path. It was likely unwise to turn her back to Miss Scratch, but she was simply completely fed up now. Whatever this creature was, real of figment, she had lost her patience with it. So, Bellatrix entered the forest with phone in hand. Thankfully, the signal was right ahead. The forest started to open up and reveal a more hilly terrain with a river ahead. She could make out an unlit petrol station in the distance and a few other buildings deeper in the forest. It was there where the signal was. It was there where she had to go. The trees seemed taller here, making it harder to make out what the buildings were.

"That would be the Gilmore Sawmill," sounded from above. Bellatrix was so startled from the sudden noise that she almost dropped the phone into the river below. Glaring up, she saw Miss Scratch looking down at her rather smugly as she sat high up on a tree branch, kicking her legs about like a little girl on a swing set.

"How do you even know that?" Bellatrix demanded.

"I know everything you do." Miss Scratch replied. "You've been there before, remember?"

In fact, she did remember. It was around these parts that she had crashed Hermione's car after escaping from the Dark Presence's clutches. She remembered her injury, staggering through the woods and into the sawmill, encountering that first shadow creature. However, she also remembered that the sawmill was certainly not in walking distance of Bright Falls. Something in the Dark Place had gotten twisted around again, this time without her noticing at first. Well, at least she knew where she needed to go, but unfortunately there was a gorge and a river in the way.

"Oh, you're fucking useless. An embarrassment," Miss Scratch groaned. "Honestly, is this the early onset of dementia? Is this what I have to look forward to in the next ten years?! Remember where you bloody are, you cow!"

As much as she hated to admit it, Miss Scratch was right. This was a world of subjectivity and concepts. Bellatrix closed her eyes. The ideal form of a bridge was something she plucked from the aether. It took shape in front of her, the idea molding into her version of reality. And there it was: a nice and stable wooden footbridge, not unlike those she had seen at the cabin park was now spanning the length of the gorge, waiting for her to cross it.

Miss Scratch applauded gleefully from her perch. "There you go! See? All you needed was just a little motivation!"

"I heard," Bellatrix snarled.

"Awww, not all motivation has to be positive!" Miss Scratch cackled. "Nothing get things done better than abject seething hatred!"

That much was true, especially considering how much she wanted to cut down that tree with magic and then strangle Miss Scratch with her bare hands the moment she touched the ground. Bellatrix scoffed and stepped over the bridge. If the layout of this area was still the same, the best thing she could do was to walk to the road and then follow the road to the petrol station. From there it would be only a brief walk into the sawmill storage area. She looked ahead and found the road. A short and uneventful trudge through the forest later and Bellatrix was standing on said road. It continued alongside the mountainside and elevated a little towards the petrol station. At last, things were starting to look up. Now if only the Dark Place would remain stable long enough for her to actually get there.

As it turned out, the Dark Place itself was the least of her worries. An intense Miss Scratch stood at the side of the road, a rather pouty expression on her face. "What is it now?" Bellatrix muttered as she walked past her. Merlin, this was like dealing with a toddler.

"You didn't stay and thank me for my help," said Miss Scratch with narrowed eyes. "I am insulted and I must revenge! I know! Ahum. The shadows appeared on the road like ghosts, eager to tear the living flesh right off her bones."

Bellatrix stopped in her tracks as several creatures appeared from the woods, approaching menacingly. They were… harder to make out than usual, having an almost invisible outline in the dark and above the gray asphalt. They moved to fast too that Bellatrix had trouble making out just how many there were. Immediately, she was on the defensive and formed orbs of magical lights in both hands to try to ward them off. An idea came to her: she shone one of those lights right in Miss Scratch's face.

"Ooooh," giggled Miss Scratch, her grinning face fully lit by the magical light. "Good idea, but not a chance. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"STOP doing this!" Bellatrix hissed as she frantically tried to keep the near-invisible shadow-men from blindsiding her.

"What?" pouted Miss Scratch. "You don't like playing with my toys?"

"You're a really poor writer!" Bellatrix hissed. "Can't come up with anything original?"

A flash of anger shot across Miss Scratch's face. She pursed her lips and snapped her fingers, causing the shadow-men to disappear. For a moment, Bellatrix was relieved. That was until Miss Scratch put a finger to her lips and her eyes lit up with a devilish light. "Oh, I have a better idea and you're going to love it! Ahum, Bellatrix' Black's own works, littering the landscape. Paintings, poems, even her culinary creations. Common and discarded, like mud beneath her feet. Rubbish, cheap rubbish!"

Bellatrix looked her double in the eye as Miss Scratch's mouth twisted in a sadistic grin of knowing mirth. In that moment, she sounded insane. Like a demented storyteller, who was out to torment and destroy her protagonist. And, Merlin's arse, when Bellatrix looked at the road she wished she'd kept her bloody mouth shut and just fought the shadow-men. In front of her, littering the road between her and the petrol station was a minefield of ideal forms, just waiting to take shape. But all of these are bad ideas, very bad ones.

Thing with ideal forms was that they were begging to be made reality. The merest brush of thought would bring them forth and it was something that almost happened automatically. It was hard not to think of an ideal form when it brushed her mind. What this needed was strength of mind and will, rather than body and magic. Strength of mind was something she feared she was in relatively short supply of. This would take discipline and concentration.

She steeled herself and focused on good memories as she walked towards the bad ideal forms, these bad concepts. She could feel them swirling maliciously in the air. So Bellatrix focused on last Christmas spent at the ranch. It had been a perfect white Christmas, snow covered fields and mountains in the distance creating the perfect winter wonderland.

Bellatrix passed the concept of 'Enemy' safely.

It had been a wonderful time. She and Hermione had spent the days before decorating their tree. It was stood in the middle of their vaulted living room, so large it almost reached the ceiling. It had been a bit of an adventure to get the star up there without magic. Muggle Christmas lights were a bit unwieldy, but a hell of a lot safer than candles. Especially if the bloody house you live in was made almost entirely out of wood.

'Death' and 'Taken' were passed.

Bellatrix had spent a lot of time in the kitchen, working on cooking their honey-glazed turkey just perfect. A side-order of Horseradish-encrusted Beef Tenderloin would certainly be a joy for the tastebuds. Their starters would be holiday Tortellini soup. For desert she had prepared delicious Christmas Plum Pudding. There had been a few times when she had to chase Hermione from the kitchen. Her pet had been enticed by the smell and had come in to sneak in a taste. Of course, Bellatrix had had none of it and had resorted to slapping her on the bum with a wooden spoon until she would leave.

She passed 'Boom' safely, though the mere word had almost set off whatever it would conjure.

Cissy, Andie and Hermione's parents Jack and Emma had been the guests at their dinner. It was certainly an odd fellowship. Though Andie and Hermione's parents were getting along quite well, Cissy had been somewhat cold and aloof, preferring to spend time only with Bellatrix. For their part, Jack was no fool: Hermione's father was well aware that his daughter was in a romantic relationship with her patient. To his credit, he absolutely did not seem to mind. If Emma was aware, she made no mention of it. There was absolutely no way her sisters did not know either, but thankfully kept the secret.

'Wendigo'. That one she was grateful to leave behind her.

After the quests had gone home, she and Hermione had wasted no time. While the snow fell down outside, she and Hermione had shed their clothing and had made love on a soft blanket in front of the roaring fireplace. It was almost then and there that Bellatrix had given Hermione her ring, if she hadn't chickened out at the last moment. She still resented herself for it: the moment had been perfect, after all. Well, when all this bollocks would be behind her, she would put her ring on Hermione's finger come hell or high water.

'Voldemort'. No way did she want to see an ideal form of her former lord.

And then she was stood in front of the petrol station, clinging on to the memories of her last Christmas. Merlin, she was completely and utterly exhausted by her ordeal. She glanced back and felt the ideal forms still hung impotently above the asphalt. Hermione had saved her yet again. She looked at the phone and the signal was closer than ever, right into the sawmill right next to the petrol station.

An applause sounded from above. Her gaze was drawn to the roof of the petrol station where Miss Scratch was dancing in the light of the non-existent moon. "Bravo, bravo! I knew you'd make it through that! Uhm, well, actually, I'm surprised you didn't set off the 'boom', but hey, what's a little explosion between friends, hm?"

Then and there, Bellatrix wanted nothing more than to wrap her hands around Miss Scratch's neck and apply a magically enhanced squeeze.

"Well, here's a blast from the past!" winked Miss Scratch. "The Earth shook! Streetlights pushed themselves out of the ground and danced wildly into the air, finding their mark!"

Streetlights?

Miss Scratch gave her a rather wickedly mysterious grin before jumping down and running off into the forest cackling like a madwoman.

"I'd give real money for you to run into a pack of hungry shadow-wolves right now," Bellatrix muttered under her breath as she braved the dark path past the petrol station Bellatrix leading down into the sawmill. The moment she stepped in what she expected to be a forest, she stood in the bright lights of dozens of… lampposts. These lampposts were haphazardly placed, crooked and copsed together like… trees. Yes, it was as if someone had simply replaced the trees with this strange collection of clustered together lampposts.

Stood under these strange lampposts, her thoughts had drifted back to the first war. In the first few years of the war, the Death Eaters had scored some major victories, but they were still fewer in number than the embedded defenders, who were scattered and poorly organized. The Dark Lord had received some intel that a prominent young auror was holed up in a safe-house in Southwold. The auror herself wasn't all that powerful in magic, but her strength lied in organisation and tactical analysis. Enough so that she was considered a danger by the Dark Lord. It should have been a standard assassination, quick in and out and a perfect training mission for some fresh-faced recruits. So, she would lead the assault and show four kids fresh out of Hogwarts how things were done in the Death Eater lines.

Unfortunately, Pettigrew had dropped the proverbial ball. When she and the kids made their bombastic entrance they had only expected to find one person: her. However, instead they were confronted with a group of at least twelve veteran aurors right in the middle of a tactical summit. It ended up being a complete and utter massacre. The kids were unprepared for this kind of opposing force and, powerful as she was, there was no way she could face all twelve of them effectively alone in the open.

It was the first time she had been seriously injured in the war. She found herself running through the streets of Southwold, underneath the light of the lampposts, burned and bleeding. Fleeing was the only option and she detested herself for this act of cowardice. All around her, she heard the screams of the kids she was supposed to lead. To 'show them how it was done'. Thing about war crimes was that these aurors were just as adept at unforgivables as Death Eaters were and just as quick and eager to apply them. The winners of any war usually swept those under the carpet to protect their 'heroes'.

Running underneath the streetlights, she heard the taunting voice of Sirius as he was the only one who had not given up the chase. "I can keep this up forever, Bella!" he had taunted. "Keep running! The road leads to nowhere."

So she ran and ran, desperate and ashamed. Until she saw the lighthouse in the distance and saw a chance.

The streetlights, the lighthouse. As the memory passed so did this demented forest of lampposts. This moment in her life had been fairly recurring in her nightmares. She wasn't afraid to die for a cause, but she was afraid to die under dishonourable circumstances.

Odd. There was no assault of any shadow creatures, but Miss Scratch had wanted her to relive this memory and there had to have been some kind of nefarious reason for that, even if she didn't quite understand why yet. So far this Dark Place and its denizen in the form of Miss Scratch had been rather taxing on both her physical and mental state, though she supposed that was rather the point.

With the strange lamppost-forest behind her alongside the unpleasant memory, Bellatrix was stood at the sawmill. This was the place where she had first encountered the Dark Presence's minions, though now it was thankfully silent as the grave. She took out Hermione's phone and tried to pinpoint the signal. It seemed to be above her somewhat. She'd have to go up into one of the buildings, it seemed. As she was roaming the premises looking for an entrance, she spotted something out the corner of her eye. It didn't take her long to notice that the lay-out of the area had changed a bit once again. She passed the little office near a stack of sawn logs, the one which had been knocked into a gorge. Well, said gorge was no longer a gorge. Instead, she looked over the dark and foreboding waters of Cauldron Lake. Cauldron Lake, which should have been miles away from this place in the real world. Bellatrix regarded its hauntingly beautiful mirror-like surface and remembered arriving at the cabin with Hermione. The mere thought of Hermione brought a smile to her face.

A pig-like snort sounded behind her. "Awww, so doe-eyed for that little mudblood, aren't you? You're… such an embarrassment," sounded Miss Scratch. Bellatrix turned around and for once the grin was gone, replaced by an angry snarl.

"Pot kettle black," Bellatrix rolled her eyes and strolled past the annoying bitch so she could find a better way up with the phone in hand.

"That's all you've got?" Miss Scratch snorted. "You really are addled. Explains why Hartman managed to convince you so easily you weren't a witch. Oh, the chemicals are no excuse. Trixie White? Really? You fell for that?"

"You try being bereft of all hope and doped up and see how well you fare!" Bellatrix snapped back, only then realizing that she had taken the bait.

Miss Scratch smiled again. "That mudblood tamed you. Turned you in a weak, pathetic shell of your former self. You're a sad old dog pining for the girl holding your leash. Even now you're pathetically holding on to the hopes that she made it out of here. Well, let me tell you something, biscuit, nobody leaves! She didn't, I didn't and you won't! EVER!"

"I SAW HER ESCAPE TO THE SURFACE!" Bellatrix shouted back.

"YOU ONLY THINK YOU DID!" Miss Scratch shrieked, adding in a loud cackle. "You're delusional if you think you can trust your senses in this place. For all you know she's still screaming in the void in another part of the lake. Forever!"

"You're lying, I know what I saw!" Bellatrix retorted, but even so doubt was starting to nag in the back of her head. "I know it! She is free! And I am going back to her!"

"Oh, boo, hoo, hoo!" Miss Scratch cackled. "Look, I like getting my cunt licked as much as any bird, but that's not enough to make it all right in the end."

Bellatrix crossed her arms. "I've altered reality before. I can do it again."

"Ah, yes, sweet little blood-traitor Nymphadora," Miss Scratch rolled her eyes so hard they almost exploded from their sockets. "There's one little twat I'd have preferred to have stayed dead! Did you know she shagged a bloody werewolf? She did!"

"A werewolf?!" Bellatrix snorted. "Preposterous! Now I know you're talking a load of old bollocks!"

"Popped out a little nipper too, even."

"Bullshit! Dora hates kids!" Bellatrix shot back.

"At least you got the dog you always wanted," Miss Scratch rolled her eyes. "You could have used the Lake's power to become queen of bloody England, to bring back the Dark Lord, to make the world your own! But instead you got yourself a mutty dog."

Bellatrix turned around and angrily grabbed Miss Scratch by the lapels. "Choose your words carefully, bitch! Not a bad word about Max, not ONE!"

Miss Scratch giggled briefly. "I'm not talking about Max!"

Bellatrix shoved her other self roughly to the ground where she promptly fell down on her arse. It gave her no small amount of pleasure so see Miss Scratch sat in a muddy puddle with that angry pouty expression on her face. She ignored the swears and empty threats and walked among the stacks of logs. This rather labyrinthine collection of stacks surrounded the tallest building, a warehouse made from corrugated metal where the logs would be prepped for loading onto muggle trucks. There should be a way in near the front. As the paths in between the stacks were getting narrower, she heard boots on the wooden logs above her. Bellatrix closed her eyes and sighed through her nose: Miss Scratch was once again on the prowl.

"She entered the trap," giggled Miss Scratch. "Surrounded by enemies. Black had nowhere to run!"

Bellatrix tensed up when she heard a chainsaw rev up. The sound came from much closer than she would have liked.

"Now that's not a good sound... is it?" Miss Scratch cackled.

"Bitch!" Bellatrix hissed. She remembered she still had the flaregun and one shot left. She pulled it from her coat and braced herself, taking aim at the other side of the corridor just waiting for the chainsaw wielding shadow-creature to appear. She only hoped her aim was true.

Above her, Miss Scratch sighed. "No, I don't think so."

Bellatrix yelped as flaregun in her arm was instantly transformed into a rattle-snake. The snake dropped to the ground and slithered away, leaving Bellatrix weaponless.

"Much better!" sounded Miss Scratch.

Bellatrix weighed her options, but when she heard more creatures skulking about her instinct changed from fight to flight. Using magic to light up her hands, she ran in the opposite direction and hoped to find a way out of this maze quicker. It was an action which apparently shocked and appalled Miss Scratch. "What are you doing?! Fight back, you coward. COWARD!" sounded her frustrated shrieks.

Bellatrix ignored her and tried to navigate the maze as best she could, hoping she wouldn't be cornered in some dead end. Thankfully, she lucked out rather spectacularly. She turned the corner and found the side of the warehouse. A large fire-escape ladder led up all the way up to the roof. Finally, her luck was changing. The dark witch shot up the ladder as quick as she could, almost throwing herself onto the roof. She skidded over the surface to turn around and blasted the bolts holding the ladder in place with magic. The metal ladder groaned as it toppled down onto the ground below, cutting off the creatures still roaming the maze.

Bellatrix let out a deep breath and tried to catch her bearing when once again the grating voice of Miss Scratch sounded from behind. "DISAPPOINTED!" shrieked Miss Scratch, so loud that Bellatrix winced. "Coward! Pathetic coward! If that was me I would have fought them to the bloody death! But you didn't even try! You ran! YOU RAN! Look what that muddy cunt-licker has turned you into! Were you really that desperate to be shagged on the regular?! You could have just hit the clubs again! Or found some nice shag-friend in prison! Anything better than becoming the shadow of the warrior you once were!"

Bellatrix shot her a look. "I don't expect you of all people to understand. Been trying to dry-hump the Dark Lord lately? Oh wait, he's dead. And he was never interested in you anyway. You wasted thirty years of your life lusting after a bloke who was just exploiting you. So really, who's the stupid one here?"

Miss Scratch scrunched up her nose. "Ow. That was below the belt!" she replied with a severe pout. But at least it made her shut up for now.

Bellatrix ignored her and looked about the roof. There looked to be a door leading down into a staircase. Looking at the phone, the signal was coming from just beyond. Bloody hell, she'd actually made it. Set up around the door were a series of fragrant candles. It triggered another memory. Bellatrix had put candles around their bed to celebrate their first real night at their new home. Hermione had been so happy. The next morning, Hermione had been taking pictures of their property with her new camera. This new camera had been a gift from her father. It looked nothing like a wizarding camera. Much smaller. Sleeker. They had spent some time taking silly pictures of each other or themselves with it. Photography had become one of Hermione's favourite hobbies and she'd been happy that her hard-working girl had found a creative outlet.

The sound of Hermione giggling right before being kissed pierced her mind. Though Miss Scratch had placed a seed of doubt in her mind, Bellatrix knew she had saved her, but how long was that ago? How long had she been down here?

When she opened the door, she found herself stood in their vaulted living room. Finally, she heard sounds other than her own breathing or Miss Scratch' grating voice. It was a respirator. Above her, floating in the room and emitting light from his helmet, was Thomas Zane. Bellatrix herself felt different: calmer. More grounded.

"Bellatrix, you made it," said Zane. "This area of the Dark Place is calmer, at least for the time being. We can talk here, but we don't have much time."

"Thomas," asked Bellatrix, breathing a sigh of relief. "How do I get out? I followed the signal, but what do I need to do next?"

Bellatrix almost closed her eyes and sighed in frustration when she heard that bloody grating voice again. "Ah, there you are!" said Miss Scratch as she sauntered in. "So this is where we live now? How quaint."

Somehow, seeing that farce of a woman stood in her living room was beyond offensive to Bellatrix.

Zane pointed to Miss Scratch. "That's what you face. It's you… of a sort."

Miss Scratch pouted for a moment. "The Darkness. It's coming. Bellatrix was lost. She knew. She knew she was doomed. She knew there was no way out. Too bad. So sad!"

Though the words struck a chord in her, she did her best to ignore it. "Is she the Dark Presence?!"

Miss Scratch looked at her for a moment with an incredulous expression before bursting out in mocking laughter.

"No," replied Zane. "The Dark Presence is not responsible for this. You are. And, well, I am... Regardless, you're trapped in your own nightmares and this place is making them reality."

Miss Scratch talked at her with a mocking little girl tone. "Black didn't understand it. She never could. She would never make it. She would never wake up! She'd get swallowed up the rising tide of darkness. It was coming. IT WAS COMING!"

Bellatrix snarled at her. "Shut your fucking cake-hole!"

"Hello there, Tommy boy," Miss Scratch narrowed her eyes. "Aren't you going to introduce us? Are you going to tell your new best friend all about your secret shame? Are you going to tell her how you plucked me from my honourable death? Aren't you going tell her how your writing neutered me?! Turned me into that pathetic shell of a woman? Made me a love-toy for a mudblood bitch?!"

If Zane was affected by it, he didn't show it. "As I explained, Bellatrix," he said, ignoring Miss Scratch. "I merely set the stage and prepared in the endpoint. It was still your own life, your own choices, your on path which got you to that point. If there is any shame or regret in my actions, it is that I left certain… traces."

Miss Scratch stamped her foot, now utterly enraged. "THAT WAS MY LIFE YOU ALTERED! MY DESTINY YOU CHANGED! ME! MINE! YOU TURNED ME INTO THAT FAKE THING PRETENDING TO BE ME! YOU LEFT ME HERE IMPRISONED IN THIS FORMLESS HELL FOR FORTY YEARS! IF YOU THINK I WILL JUST STAND BY AND LET IT ALL HAPPEN, YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING, TOMMY-BOY!"

Reality shifted under Miss Scratch's intense anger. Another shockwave was sent searing through Bellatrix' brain, sending her to the floor crying out in agony.

"Focus!" Zane shouted. "Bellatrix, focus! You must…"

Miss Scratch giggled as the world shook. "And just like that, Zane was gone! Swallowed by the wave of insanity! Black could feel the pressure! The darkness wasn't so bad. It was in her. She felt it. She knew the voice spoke the truth, it was too hard to think. She couldn't make sense of it. She wanted to go with the flow. To stop thinking and just let go."

Bellatrix grasped her head. It hurt. It hurt beyond measure. It was becoming hard to think.

"Poor, sad little thing," said Miss Scratch as she loomed over her. "IT BURNS, IT BURNS! Why did everyone abandon her?!"

She… she was right. Miss Scratch was right. Hermione was gone. She was down here all alone. Her sisters couldn't find her here. Her niece couldn't find her here. Hell, even Max couldn't help her now. It was hopeless. She would never escape. She would never see Hermione again. Zane, her only lifeline with the real world, was gone now too. She was completely and utterly alone. She felt the tears run down her cheek.

"There you go, Trixie."

Hartman?

"Calm down. You've had another episode, but you're slowing coming out of it. You're becoming yourself again."

No. No.

"It's all in your head, Trixie. You've been making it all up."

NO!

"Trixie, you're delusional. Let me help you."

"NOOOOOOOO!"

Trixie lay on the ground, crying softly. "Why… why is this happening to me?!"

"There, there, Trixie," sounded Hartman's voice. "It's going to be better. I promise. You need to let go of your delusions."

No. No way. She needed to get out of here.

She opened her eyes and found herself tied to the bed in Cauldron Lake Lodge, Hartman sat at the side of her. "It's alright, Trixie, we're here to help you."

As Trixie felt her sanity slipping away from her, she heard loud and mocking cackling coming from inside of her own skull.