A/n: Chin up peeps.
Warning: this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for over adults. TAGS: Corruption, violence, mentions of rape, murder, child abuse and illnesses. Warnings will be in place from the star of each story.
CHAPTER Warning: General racism, violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters and no money has been made from this.
Enjoy...
Part Eight
Limbo
"Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to reform (or pause and reflect)."
― Mark Twain
Eighteen months since Curfew…
Feet resting on the table, she fishes for the elusive food stuck between her teeth. Digging with her nail to remove the spinach trapped. Sucking she finally manages to remove it, jaw aching from the minutes of exercise.
Stretching she watches the sun slowly rise above the rooftops, another shift over. The paper arrives on her desk, she refuses to look at it. They're winning the war but losing the people, it should have ended. This all should have ended when Granger got thrown into hell. If anything, it made everything worse, more bodies on the street. The curfew continued and the people rallied behind the mudbloods.
Her sister, Andie more prominent than ever. A fully qualified Mediwitch, leading the campaign to free Granger from Azkaban. Andie Tonks. The thought makes her stomach churn, the news her sister wed the filthy mudblood a few months after Granger was arrested. It took everything in her power not to track the mudblood down and cut his balls off.
Rubbing her forehead, she hoped by now the headache would pass. Still, the bookshop remains a skeleton of a building, a reminder of the evil act from that night over eighteen months ago. The Minister re-elected for another term, and now they remain in a suspended limbo. Waiting for something to give, one of the sides to give.
A nudge to the shoulder Scrimgeour motioning for her to follow. Hopping to her feet, she follows her boss to the elevator. A strange sense of Déjà vu as they head to Minister's office, they'd been here before eighteen months ago, when everything truly kicked off. She never did find the potion of Philter of Insight, she doubts she ever will.
This time though she has no holiday, the Lestrange brothers have suspiciously behaved the last few months. If anything, Rabastian has been subdued, not his usual self. She raised her concerns with Rod who too had noticed the behaviour. Since she keeps an eye on him, they both do, something has affected the youngest Lestrange and not for the good.
A single knock from Scrimgeour, a call to enter. Stepping through, Bella notices Alastor Moody stood in the corner of the office brooding. Staff in hand he scowls at the sight of Bella. She respects the bastard; doesn't mean she enjoys working with him. It's why they both work opposite shifts, Moody the Lieutenant of the day shift and Bella always the night.
Taking her usual place by the window, she settles on the ledge, eyeing the birds. Wishing to be free of the stuffy office away from the politics. If she knew the becoming a Lieutenant meant more meetings, she would have told Rufus to shove it.
"Sit," Riddle orders to those in the room, choosing to ignore Bella already sitting.
The last few months have not been kind to the Minister. Nothing obvious in his appearance, other than the greying hair, the shrunken eyes as those he hasn't slept for weeks. He probably hasn't, his demeanour has changed though. No longer the calm collected Minister behind a closed door, there's a sharpness to his words, to his actions. The real serpent striking from beneath the politician.
Tactics against the rebellious group becoming brazen, a harsher punishment to those committing crimes. Reaching for the paper, she flicks through the first few pages nothing out of the usual. The front page still running the same story. The story plaguing the papers for nearly three weeks, it began on page four. She remembers, she followed it with abundance, attended a few of the hearings.
Sleepless nights following the verdict because it rocked everything. Granger appeal granted. Her retrial the court found her innocent, she was acquitted of killing Robinson. Eighteen months in Azkaban, she walked free a week ago. The same picture plastered across newspapers, a very skinny Granger, dark circles under her eyes. Greasy hair, narrow cheeks and pale enough to be transparent. Standing on the rocks of Azkaban shoreline being helped into the boat.
"What will you do now, Miss Granger?" The reporter asked.
"Bathe and eat chocolate."
The quote stirred something in Bella, was the Auror unit wrong? Here stood Granger a shell of the woman she once was foreshadowed by hell itself. She should want revenge to seek justice for herself. Vengeance. Instead, she chooses to hide not a peep from her or anyone directly in contact with her. Perhaps they broke the witch's spirit.
"Bellatrix?" Dropping the paper, Bella stares at Riddle, the PR nightmare the Ministry is currently facing once more. "Anything yet?"
"No," Bella admits the same answer each time, she doesn't need him to repeat the question. Because it's all he asks these days, who paid for Granger's new lawyer? "I cannot find a single shred of evidence anywhere."
They don't know who paid for Granger's big fancy lawyer the kind only the pureblood families like the Blacks could afford. The kind of lawyer that the mere mention of their name makes the courts scurry with activity. The state's case against Granger showered with counter-evidence, the whole thing thrown to the wind. She admired Xenophilius Lovegood, the man despite his strange attire and somewhat eccentric actions. He was a bloody good lawyer, able to twist even the smartest lawyers' words, create a world and paint a picture of a different set of events.
It didn't go unnoticed that Pandora worked for Lovegood, a slight fear Potter may have leaked information intentionally or via accident. Nevertheless, after watching the couple, Bella knew she had more chemistry with Riddle than Pandora and James did. There was no leak, not from Potter.
The most troubling to come from the rehearing was Bella's conclusion. She believed Granger was innocent. She had an inkling back at the first trial, things did not make sense, however, Moody ran the investigation. Collected the evidence, his team put the dots together. Bella knew Granger was responsible for the leaflets. It was plausible, Robinson discovered Granger's secret, it just didn't fit.
Especially, when Cresswell was found not guilty she knew a deal was made somewhere. Somehow, Granger saved Cresswell, its annoyed Bella. It struck her integrity, yes, she was Slytherin, yes sometimes she bent the rules… She never falsified evidence and it shook everything she believed.
It was easy to push the thoughts away, with Granger locked away with work keeping her busy. It became easy to forget about the waver in her belief in the Ministry. She didn't want the Pandora's box opening at the rehearing. Didn't want the Auror's failings shown to the world, because there shouldn't have been any.
"Dumbledore has requested more security," Moody states leaning against his staff.
"Yes, yes we can increase the security at Hogwarts." Riddle agrees. "Scrimgeour this killer must be caught; it cannot go on."
"We have reached out to the public, currently going through the tips."
"Bella," Riddle shifts focussing on the distracted witch. "Anything to report?"
"They're quiet," Bella comments. "They're planning something."
"Bloody unlikely, after the Skirmish of Oxholde they're licking their wounds," Moody grumbles his fake eye roaming around the room. "They won't be doing shit."
"We both know it won't slow them," Bella states glaring at the wizard. "They're planning something."
"What are you these days bloody fortune teller? Should I tell Dumbledore, he could do with a new Divination Professor."
"I'd teach you where to shove the crystal ball," Bella hisses.
"Like to see you try Black, break some of your pearly white teeth."
"Least I got teeth you fat gummy bear."
"Enough!" Scrimgeour interjects.
"All I'm saying is we need to strike them now," Bella continues returning the finger to Moody. "We let them slip away each time. We should hit their known locations."
"We've what resources? To find what a group of idiots drunk like the last time?" Moody argues snorting at the suggestion. "Maybe you should take a desk job, Black, you do fuck all else."
"That's it…" Bella grinds, three steps across the room before Moody has his wand out.
Her dagger digs into his throat, as she presses him against the wall. Aware, Scrimgeour is ordering her to decease, but fuck she wants to slit the bastard's throat.
"Behave Alastor, or I'll give you a matching scar." Bella hisses.
"Bellatrix," Riddle calls calmly hands folded on the desk. "Please release Moody."
Fuming, Moody returns her hatred, Merlin she hates this fucking wizard she wants him dead.
"Bella." Riddle chimes again.
"Maybe you should get your house in order," Bella growls shoving the wizard away. "You've sprung a leak to the papers."
She throws the papers at the wizard, page two a piece of information only Alastor's team knows. A written extract from Rita, sensitive information no one outside the Ministry should know. Leaning against the wall opposite side of the room she pockets her dagger.
"You've got a rat Alastor."
"Fuck if I have," Moody retorts. "There is no way any of mine are the leaks. Skeeta has been fishing around too long she's got ways to get into places."
"Fix it." Riddle remarks. "Speak to Skeeta, charge if need be."
"Riddle," Bella tries again annoyed no one is paying attention to the pattern. "They're quiet, we need to get ahead of them. Same pattern each time, they are going to strike. We need to implant a mole."
"No," Riddle states coldly.
"Riddle."
"No, Bellatrix." Riddle snaps. "They are no doubt celebrating Granger's freedom. A victory to them and we're here having pissing contests. You're all here to do a job, to keep the people safe."
Vibrating, she feels her magic pulse, it purrs beneath her skin. A reassuring presence, this is all fucked up. They have a chance, a fucking chance.
"I want to know what the papers are getting their information. Moody deal with that, we may have won the Skirmish of Oxholde, but it has damaged us financially. They attacked some of the biggest economics, we also have boycotts across the factories producing potions…"
"Fuck the factories." Bella bites slamming her hands on the desk startling all the wizards.
"Bella…" Scrimgeour warns shocked.
"You pay us to do a fucking job but you're not listening. They. Are. Planning. Something." Bella grinds out staring into the cold calculating pits of Riddle's eyes. "Fuck your fancy factories, because they're getting bolder…"
"Bella." Riddle asserts rising from his seat.
"No, you listen. They're getting bolder, they have a pattern. Now they have Granger back they're not celebrating. Fuck are they licking their wounds."
"You're out of line Lieutenant." Riddle threatens darkly.
"And you'll be out of office if you don't listen." Bella cautions, refusing to buckle under the angry eyes, the silence in the office deafening. "Granger is the brains, always has been it's why they got her out. They will strike again soon, faster and stronger. We won't be able to do shit about it."
"Out." Riddle orders.
Chuckling, Bella shakes her head staring in disbelief at Riddle. "Whatever, your seat I suppose."
"GET OUT!" Riddle shouts pointing to the door.
"You disappoint me Tom."
"Out Lieutenant I don't want to see your face again!" Riddle hollers.
She throws her badge on to the table flipping the wizards off over her shoulder slamming the door behind her. Fuck them all.
~~~~~ Curfew ~~~~~
"How did you get this?" Arthur Weasley asks staring at the information in his hands. "Is it legal?"
"Doesn't matter," Skeeta smirks drawing out a long drain of her cigarette.
"Rita," Arthur sighs pulling the witch aside away from the other journalists. "This, this isn't information you just come by. Do you have a source?"
"Sort of."
"Rita, I need to know?"
"Why have I ever let you down before?" Skeeta questions.
Arthur fails to reply yes, Rita does tend to blow stories out of proportion. It's what makes her a good gossip columnist, it's just recently Rita has turned her attention to the local politics. How she comes about information, well he can only wonder.
Nevertheless, his awareness of his boss's uneasiness. They're poking the bear, poking the Ministry, it's dangerous. The rumours going through the mill how the Wizarding Echo became bankrupt wasn't just a simple as it sounds. That the knocks on the door at night isn't something that keeps him up at night.
"Arthur," Skeeta drawls stuffing her cigarette out. "Trust me, my source is good."
He looks towards his other colleagues, his friends, the ones who rely upon him to make judgement calls as editor. To choose which stories run. IN another world he'd love to be something else, but being a journalist gave him means to visit the muggle world. Such a fascinating world, something Molly keeps telling him will lead to trouble. Not as enthusiastic as he is to see the muggle world, more inclined to stay in the townhouse.
"If you trust your source…"
"I do," Rita replies instantly. "Run it, Arthur, run it."
She smiles, tapping his arm as she leaves him to it. Walking into his office, he rubs his sore eyes, staring at the piece in front of him. It's good, juicy, slightly outlandish but it's reckless. Dangerous, while the other papers print more delicate things, the daily Prophet stands apart. Running real stories.
This though, this like the last piece, well it stirs something in him. Please Arthur, please just don't do anything reckless. Angie told me last week they took Martin in. Don't keep testing them. Sighing, he buries his head in hands. Molly's right, his testing the burning water, blinding himself to the fact he will scold if he jumps into it. Convincing himself it's merely lukewarm.
Isn't this why he became a journalist to expose the truth. To become some good in the world, like his work on the story following Granger. It didn't matter about the death threats they received; he was at the first hearing when she was found guilty. Was there the day they acquitted her of murder, he ran the story the next morning?
"Klaus," Arthur calls out.
"Hey," Klaus answers popping his head in the office.
"Run this, I want it out tonight." He offers the story.
Accepting the paper, Klaus raises an eyebrow. "Sure, about this?"
"Do it."
A single nod, Klaus is vanishing down the stairs to their printing rooms. Twiddling his thumbs, he considers chasing after Klaus, tell him to destroy the story. If he does though, Skeeta could go elsewhere. Could sell it to a rival publisher. He has a duty to the people though to keep them informed.
When the clock strikes five, he's quick to fill his briefcase with the evening's readings. He wants to go home, to eat the enormous amounts of food Molly would have cooked and fiddle with muggle items in his shed.
"Off home?" His secretary asks not looking up from the scrolls on her desk.
"Early night I think," Arthur answers, collecting an extra post.
Skeeta is telling some outrageous story to any who will listen to her, lounging on her chair. He feels on edge, the latest print already out the building collected an hour ago. Their story will be out, he doesn't want to be here when the owls start tapping at the windows. When howlers land on his desk and death threats keep him awake more than necessary.
"Nightcap hey, Weasley!" Skeeta shouts raising her glass of whiskey.
"Something like that, you should be done soon Skeeta."
"I got a meeting." Skeeta winks.
Bang.
The retort dies on his tongue, the air pushed from his lungs. Ears ringing, he finds himself on the floor, the shouting and screaming. A strange smell in the air, purple smoke spewing from a broken potion bottle.
Glass from the window litters the floor; he lays in a pile of paper before pushing to his feet. Faced with a wand his forced to his knees as witches and wizards swarm the office. Hands raised; he struggles to comprehend the situation.
"Who's in charge?" A voice demands.
"I… I am." He stutters, flinching as Mad-Eye Moody appears in front of him.
He winces as Moody thrusts a piece of paper in his face.
"Warrant." Moody gruff. "Search everywhere."
"What grounds?" Arthur demands.
"Possession of classified intelligence," Moody answers.
"You can't do this!" Skeeta shouts struggling with an Auror confiscating her work.
"Skeeta," Moody address the witch. "You're under arrest."
"What?"
"What?" Arthur questions rising to his feet. "She's done nothing wrong."
"Really?" Moody snorts turning to Skeeta. "Failing to register as an Animagus just a start. Breaking the Ministry, recording confidential intelligence, should I continue?"
That's how she managed to get the stories, Arthur stares at the witch as they handcuff her. He always wondered, but it was too easy to accept the stories. It gave them an edge over the competition and now here they were. Swarmed by Aurors, their office in ruins. He should never have accepted the trojan horse.
"Your all under arrest actually, book 'em."
He doesn't protest as they force cuffs on to his wrists, he knows they are all in trouble. After all, he just published the latest damning evidence. He wonders if this is what pushed them over the edge.
"Sir," Sally Bracher appears newspaper in hand. "You've got to see this."
Snatching the paper, Moody inhales deeply at the front page. Turning to Arthur he flaunts the paper in front of his face. Anger radiating of the Auror, hand pointing to the title.
"What is this?" Moody demands.
"The evening header," Arthur answers smartly, cursing as a hex makes him buckle.
"Funny boy," Moody states spit hitting Arthur's cheek. "This you're doing Rita. Cancel the print."
"I cannot," Arthur shrugs. "They've already gone."
Swallowing, Arthur shares an uneasy look with Skeeta who refuses to show shame. Turning back to the paper, Arthur flinches as Moody instructs all the papers to be found. It doesn't matter the headline will sell them quicker than any Auror can buy them.
Auror's knew of Ragdoll Serial Killer – By Rita Skeeta
Ragdoll Serial Killer as named by Auror Longbottom has been active for Twenty months, but they are only just telling us now!
The Order of the phoenix - Unknown
One of our journalists met with a leader of the Order of the Phoenix who in their own words explain the real reason there was a Skirmish for Oxholde.
"Get them out of here." Moody orders throwing the paper down.
~~~~~ Curfew ~~~~~
It's not something she'd happily admit, but a few days free of the Auror unit she's come to realise she enjoys baking. She wouldn't say she's any good at it, but she enjoys it immensely. The elf's she fears are not so keen, but they merely work in silence cleaning.
Bored from cooking cookies she leaves the kitchen covered in flour, wondering how she managed to get the fresh dough in between her tits. Happy to admit she's more than bored, not sure what job she moves to or if she should bother. Maybe start her own business? Perhaps she could become a Professor, she snorts to herself. Dumbledore would not have her at the school, not after her years there.
A pop as her Elf appears bowing, she indicates for the creature to hurry up. She has hunting to get to, she brought a new bow and arrow. Hoping to stalk the deer on her land to pass the time.
"You have a visitor," The elf squeaks. "They are in the hall."
"Fine."
Brushing herself down, she changes direction heading to the hall wondering if her sister has arrived early. It would be just like Narcissa to spite her, to visit without sending word.
"Bellatrix." The voice startles her, Riddle standing in the hall.
Swallowing, she had hoped to avoid Riddle, preferably for the rest of her life. Embarrassment at her confrontation, she has never reacted that way with Riddle. It shamed her; the look of disappointment cut deeper than anything.
"Minister," She regrets her dishevelled look if the surprise on Riddle's face is anything to go by, he did not expect to see her like this. "I… We can go through to the…"
"Here is fine." Riddle interrupts holding up a hand.
Is he here to berate her further, maybe to press a charge against her? Nervous, a strange feeling to her, she feels unprepared. Bare to be found in her house, her territory on the back step. The pulse returns, the urge to please. She hates feeling weak but knows she will jump at any opportunity to get back in Riddle's good books. Anything.
"About the other day," Bella starts wondering what to say. "I am sorry, I was out of line."
"Water under the bridge," Riddle states clearly, brushing the incident away. "It's not often people stand up to me."
Riddle steps closer turning to study the large painting hanging from the wall, a battle scene. Trafalgar or something, her father purchased it many moons ago.
"I admire your fire Bella," A warmth rushes through her, ignoring the red flags. "Your dedication to your work is admirable."
But? There's always a but, she knows this better than most. She feels on edge wanting those cold eyes to land on her, to give her a hint of what the wizard is thinking. It doesn't matter she can never read Riddle, another frustrating side of the wizard.
A thud makes her look down towards the side unit, a newspaper and her badge sitting upon it. Frowning, she reaches for her badge, almost jumping for joy. She's lost without her purpose, without a reason to wake up in the morning. A cause to stand for, to fight for everyday.
It's the paper and the headlines that grab her attention. Of course, the Daily prophet broke the news of the Auror unit. She can just imagine the damage that has caused. To be truthful she hasn't read the papers recently, she's almost glad now. It's the second headline that gains her attention.
The Order of the phoenix – Unknown
"You were right," Riddle announces staring straight at her, she fails to meet his gaze. This does not fill her with righteousness, only bitterness. "I should have listened; we all should have."
Because this was their plan all along, to undermine the Ministry via the people. Always scheming, always plotting and once more they were too slow to catch up. This could have been prevented, if only they were smarter.
"Put your badge on Bella," Riddle instructs. "I'm listening."
"I'll be there, tonight," Bella confirms.
The sound of his shoes echoes in the hall as he heads towards the exit pausing to regard her with a strange look. Standing her ground, she waits for him to finish, to leave her sanctuary because right now she is buzzing. Too many emotions, she can barely think straight.
"The next time I receive your badge," Riddle starts voice of steel. "It will be to commemorate your retirement or death. Is that understood?"
"yes." She forces the word out.
"And Bella," He pauses door open foot halfway through the threshold.
"Sir,"
"Dear Bella, raise your voice at me again and I will see to it that it will be the latter."
The door closes with a click, the threat nestling on her shoulders. Releasing a breath, she crumples against the wall, sliding to the fall she cradles her head. What the fuck is happening? She feels spun out, threatened and indignant. She dares Riddle to try her and yet the very thought terrifies her. Fear a strange phenomenon to her it steals her of any energy.
The Minister threatened an Auror, it's a chargeable offence she could charge him. She remains frozen though, she knows it's an impossibility. If she moves against Riddle she may as well dig her own grave. Who would believe her anyway?
Panting, she tries to control the panic attack, clutching her chest. The need to please Riddle and the need to run as far from him as possible leaves her in limbo. Trapped in her thoughts in her own home, she no longer has a sanctuary. Get up. Get up.
Rising to her feet she collects her badge it feels cold against her palm. Nausea, the only sound is her breathing in the long empty hall. What is happening?
A/n:Yay, we're making progress full steam towards Bellamione! Obviously it's been a slow build I had to create the world now we can immense ourselves in get lost in the grittiness of wizarding London. Enjoy our Bellamione and have our heart strings plucked. I owe a big thanks to Fantasy Name Generator it helps create names. Without it the magical strange names you find would be very poor. I quite like mixing up the job roles of favourite characters it is good thing. Also there is no bashing in this story. I couldn't think of a more suitable name for the muggle rebellion so Order of Phoenix seemed to work especially since Hermione came back from a fire. If anything Bellatrix created the name. Dumbledore will be making an appearance next chapter along with the girls finally meeting and somewhat joining sides. Kind of. More importantly wait to you see Dumbledore he is not what you'll be expecting.
Love to hear your thoughts of where this is going, who you think could be the killer etc.
For any other stories A demon in the mist is currently running, something to keep you all occupied. Stay safe all, be back soon, R&R I can always treat you early to some little Bellamione interactions.
Till next time...