Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Potterverse and also nothing of the Batman-verse.
Imaginary Friend
Stolen Magic
She couldn't just appear in a sandy alleyway in Cairo dressed as a Muggle and expect to deal in dragon-hide, and since her apartment (building) had burned down, she went to the next safest place she could think of. She Apparated home.
She was still keyed into the wards, so the magic allowed her to appear right in the entrance hall. It was but a moment before a house elf popped into existence in front of her.
"Welcome mistress Trixy, welcome!" the small female elf was nearly jumping up and down in excitement.
Bellatrix winced at the address the elf used. It had happened at the summer after Narcissa's first year at Hogwarts. She had heard Sirius address Bellatrix with the nickname at school so when Bella had angered her sister in some way or another that she no longer remembered; Narcissa had ordered every elf bound to the Family to forever address Bellatrix by the nickname or bear the shame of being dismissed.
Being sister to Narcissa she hadn't had the authority to overturn the order then, and both their parents had been far too amused by the situation to do anything about it. Well, their mother had been amused and their father had indulged her.
By now Bellatrix however had grown used to the abbreviation and didn't feel the need to make a big deal out of it. She had far more important things to be concerned about.
"Oh, the Master is going to be so very glad that mistress Trixy is finally at home!" the elf was still gushing.
"Is Father awake?" Bellatrix asked.
"Yes, mistress, Master is in the garden! Watching the late Mistress' roses is he," the little elf was wringing her hands with the need to do something.
"Very well," Bellatrix muttered. "Have tea ready to be served in quarter of an hour. We will have it in the garden."
"Yes, mistress Trixy!" the elf nodded so enthusiastically that for a moment Bellatrix thought that the small creature's head would roll off its shoulders and bounce away on its own.
As the elf had said – she found her father in the garden, sitting on a white marble bench and watching the meticulously maintained patch of her mother's favourite flowers. It hurt like a wrongly played note in an otherwise perfect symphony. She felt guilt. She felt like she was letting him down, because she could hardly imagine how he felt, because it no longer pained her the way it still chipped away at him. And because he was so much more than his grief, but sometimes it was all she could see when she looked at him.
"Father," she spoke quietly.
He rose, turning to her immediately, "Daughter," he greeted her with a smile, "Welcome home."
Due to time difference – where in Gotham it had been dinnertime; here at her father's manor in Wiltshire it was almost too early to have tea. As they sat down in veranda, Bellatrix finally asked the question that had been nagging at her the most during her five-day seclusion from the Wizarding world.
"Has Narcissa returned home yet?"
Now - Bellatrix had never been close to Narcissa, and to be honest she hadn't spared much thought to her sister in the last few years, but while she had been lounging about Bruce's penthouse, healing and with nothing in particular to do, she had had time to think, and wonder. The bond she had with Andromeda was simply not comparable to the one she had with Narcissa, and that begged to question – why? Even with Lily Potter she felt a deeper kinship since the ritual. And wouldn't that put my dear aunt in a grave if she weren't there already.
As a child she had deemed her youngest sister to be an annoyance, and the feeling had stuck through the years until adulthood, until ten years into adulthood when examining her memories Bellatrix came to conclusion that the rift between them stemmed from that very simple thought.
It was dismally ridiculous – the cause and effect nature of everything that had happened. Oh, her revelations didn't mean in the least that she was about to forget that Narcissa had betrayed her to the Death Eaters or the scene at Andromeda's wedding or forgive easily everything that Narcissa had done simply out of spite. It did however mean that Bellatrix had a better grasp on her sister's motivations.
While Narcissa may have been spiteful and her fault was for nurturing those feelings, in a way Bellatrix realized that she had been even worse – considering Narcissa an annoyance she had treated her sister with increasing indifference, bestowing only occasional cursory attention as to any other subject under her rule.
"The Malfoy manor was seized and magically sealed as the assets belonging to Lucius Malfoy were frozen. I doubt she has a way of entering the manor," Cygnus deliberately misinterpreted her question.
He adored all his daughters, but Bellatrix had always been the one he worried about most, the one to whom he gave the most and the one who had the greatest sway over him. It had taken Narcissa walking away from the family and shutting them out to realize that he had never been a fair parent. The Sweet will turn sour.
It had been strange to realize that the prophet whom he had adamantly refused to believe in had influenced his life profoundly while his wife (who had believed in the fortune-teller's words as if they were a gospel from Merlin's own lips) had been far less affected. He didn't regret in the least anything that he had given his eldest daughter. Just sometimes as he sat watching his wife's roses, sometimes he wished he had given his other daughters at least half as much.
"I meant has she come here?"
Cygnus looked out wistfully at the rising sun just barely over the distant hills, before returning his gaze to Bellatrix, "She hasn't considered the Black Manor her home for years."
Bella closed her eyes and exhaled forcefully, feeling somewhat apprehensive, "Do you know where she is?"
"No," Cygnus replied softly.
When she had drafted the laws she had known what effect they would have on the families of the criminals, yet at the same time she had felt that that was the best decision for those circumstances, for what purpose was there in taking away the funds from Death Eaters if they would just get the goods through their wives? After all it was a rare pure-blood wife that dared to deny her husband or disagreed with his general opinion.
Bellatrix hadn't thought much more about the situation that the relatives of the criminals would find themselves in. It was a universally accepted practice that families took care of their own in which case – if the funds of the husband were seized and the wife had no resources on her own – her family of birth would care for her and any offspring she may have, at least until the trials were done at which point anyone with a legitimate claim could file with the Ministry to have the estate released to them.
It was just in this case – Narcissa hadn't turned to her family for help.
"How old is Draco now?" It was disconcerting to realize that she didn't know the age of her own nephew - that she hadn't cared for specifics, and that she'd found out she had one at all through Daily Prophet of all things.
"Eight months."
Where would Narcissa go with a child that small and without money? None of the places that came to mind where particularly happy thoughts.
"What about Lucius Malfoy? Any worthwhile rumours about him?"
Cygnus' gaze narrowed. "There have been a few things whispered in certain circles."
"Father?" she frowned questioningly. There was an intent almost angry look on her father's face.
"It is said that he intends to forward Voldemort's cause. It is said that he considers you an enemy of the Wizarding state and has declared that all faithful to late Lord Voldemort should seek to destroy you by any means."
Bellatrix had the nerve to laugh. "He is more insane than I gave him credit for."
Cygnus wasn't similarly amused. "That may be, but he is still a very powerful wizard."
"Father, Voldemort was a powerful wizard and he's dead now," she brushed off his concern.
"And if you remember Voldemort was also arrogant – a trait you seem to share," Cygnus pointed out.
"Lucius Malfoy may be a Death Eater and he may even be a talented one, but he has lost almost everything. He has no money, he has no power or influence outside what must be a very narrow circle of similarly mentally deficient wizards and witches which has undoubtedly become an even smaller circle of sycophants due to him usurping Voldemort's previous position. Whatever Lord Malfoy may be, he is in no way comparable to who was Voldemort."
"And yet he is still at large," Cygnus said.
"A dubious accomplishment and undoubtedly temporary one as well," she countered.
"Be careful," he advised, nonetheless.
"I always am, Father," Bellatrix replied easily.
BBRBW
Natasha and Bruce bid their goodbyes to Harvey and Rachel by the entrance to the restaurant. Natasha's hotel was in different direction than Rachel's apartment.
As Bruce watched Harvey lead Rachel away, he couldn't help but think that he wasn't feeling right – he should feel jealous, shouldn't he? Frustrated perhaps, because Dent could easily reach for Rachel's hand during dinner to squeeze it and have her squeeze back. Maybe he should even be angry at Harvey, at Rachel – for having what they had, but he wasn't.
He felt none of those things, except maybe for some disappointment. It hadn't been all that long ago - a few months? When Rachel had said she'd be with him if he weren't the man he pretended to be. When she'd said – she'd wait for the day when Batman would no longer be needed.
"It is interesting," Natasha said leaning against his shoulder. "The way you watch Miss Dawes."
"What way would that be?" he asked flatly.
"Like you don't know what to do about her," she replied easily, both of them watching the other couple walk down the street, away from them.
Bruce cleared his throat but didn't comment on Natasha's observation. The woman smirked, before taking pity on him and pulling him away by the cuff of his sleeve, up the street, towards the square.
"Of course, the way you look at Milady Black is completely different."
"Enlighten me," he requested dryly.
She stopped with a wide sweeping gesture of her arm, looking at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "If I told you everything, where would be the fun in that?"
"You must be phenomenal on stage," he remarked regarding her theatrics.
"I most certainly am," she replied confidently with a laugh. "Now, since we didn't get to gossip properly, but you did feed me extremely well – you have the honour to take me around the square until I'm certain that I will still fit into my costume tomorrow, then you may be a gentleman and take me back to my hotel," she announced.
More amused than irritated by her antics, Bruce readily agreed. The young witch was vivacious and entertaining, and the key word in that was – witch. He was more than curious about the Wizarding world and he had only Bellatrix's account on that and while he knew that she wouldn't outright lie to him, he had more than enough experience with her to know that there were things she'd intentionally omit. Natasha had no such reservations.
And so, he uttered a phrase that in another life might never even occur to him, "Tell me then, what's new in the Wizarding world?"
BBRBW
Bellatrix got back from her impromptu shopping trip (even with the side-trips she'd taken) sooner than she'd expected mainly due to the difference in time zones. The sun was just about to rise over Gotham city to bring it a day that she had already lived in another part of the world. Bellatrix yawned, suddenly feeling every bit as tired as she looked.
She had already delivered the dragon-hide to Fox's office at the Wayne Tower so that he could start working on it the first thing in the morning. Haphazardly and stumbling over the ties of her knee-high boots she pulled off her robes before falling into the bed. She closed the drapes, shutting out the morning with a wave of her wand. With a jab, her clothes, and the Invisibility Cloak she had picked from her Gringott's vault folded themselves neatly and dropped in a stack on the commode. She fell asleep still clutching her wand.
When she woke next it was late afternoon. She moved about lazily, seeing no need to rush. She enchanted her closet to have more space and stored her Wizarding robes and the Cloak out of sight, but without any additional protection seeing no need for them at the moment. It was more than an hour after waking that she felt hungry enough to venture out of her rooms and to the kitchen.
Bellatrix stopped in the doorway as she noticed Bruce's thunderous expression, which he tried to conceal, badly.
"So, this guy – Voldemort. Natasha says you killed him," he said as a way of greeting.
"Yes," Bellatrix answered slowly, frowning. "I did tell you that," she added heading further into the kitchen. She just wasn't seeing where this was heading. Surely, he wouldn't get all sensitive, because she had killed a few people. Didn't bullets do the same?
"He was a bad guy," he deliberately spoke shortly and simply, to keep up at least half of pretence of being calm.
"Yes, he was," Bellatrix agreed, utterly confused. "I told you that before as well," she walked over to him and reached to feel his forehead. He grasped her arm before she could.
"Are you all right Bruce?" she asked, concerned. He didn't look feverish, so the only other explanation to his obvious confusion would be either Obliviation or a Confounding spell, in one word – magic. She hadn't thought that Natasha would think, much less dare do something like this. Bellatrix felt fury slowly rising in her chest like a tidal wave.
"I could ask you the same question," he barely managed to get the sentence out straight. Logically, he knew there was no reason to be worried anymore, after all – here she was, right in front of him, safe and whole, but logic had nothing to do with how he felt.
"What do you mean?" she glanced around before pointing to the nearest stool. "Maybe you should sit down."
"You told me that the guy was a terrorist! You told me that he killed people!" Bruce let go of her hand as he grasped her shoulders tightly and shook her to emphasize his point.
"Calm down," she implored softly.
"You never told me that he threw around words that killed people!" he yelled, releasing her, and stepping away only to turn back after a few steps. His shoulders tight with tension, his eyes wild with worry.
Her eyes narrowed. "Wait…" understanding dawned upon her.
"Oh, now you know what I'm talking about."
She snarled angrily. "How else do you think magic works?" she demanded throwing her arms up in the air. "You've seen me do spells – what exactly surprises you so?"
"Words that kill people," he growled back at her.
"And?!" she screamed at him. "You have guns. We have wands. What's the difference?"
"You could have been killed! With words!" he cried back at her before his tone suddenly dropped, and he spoke softly, "There are over a hundred thousand words in English language. Thousands that are used every day and who really thinks about what they say? To have words that could literally hurt… Bellatrix, if I've ever said anything…"
And that was the root of this argument, wasn't it? She shook her head in denial before moving to be closer to him. She took his face in her hands, making him look her in the eyes, "Most wizards can't say words like that. You could never hurt me like that," she assured him.
He still looked troubled. "But there are people who can?"
"None who would," she lied, surging upwards, throwing her arms around him, hugging him and hiding her face against his neck. She stroked his back soothingly as his arms tightened around her. He couldn't help but still have a bad feeling.
"You're real, Bellatrix," he whispered. It was a concept he still had trouble grasping at times. "I don't think I could bear it if something made you go away."
"I'm not going anywhere," she promised, quietly. Doubtfully.
BBRBW
"You do know I could just Apparate in and kidnap the guy?" Bellatrix asked as she leaned back in the office chair, her feet daintily crossed at ankles and let the chair turn around, around and around. The grey walls of the underground chamber all blurred together.
Bruce just shook himself, trying to get rid of the memory of having every molecule in his body compressed and then decompressed which had surfaced at the mention of Apparition. He just couldn't understand how Bellatrix seemed to enjoy this method of travel.
"The thought crossed my mind," he replied dryly as he stopped trying to get out of his armour, as he watched her.
"And?" she asked, more curious as to why he was refusing than eager to hop around the world after random criminals. Honestly, the things that Muggles considered a problem.
Her only business with the whole affair was that these people obviously expected Bruce to solve their issues. She didn't like it. It reminded her of how the Wizarding world liked to pick and choose an individual to fight their battles for them. She had never thought about the situation from that one person's point of view before (mostly just generally annoyed at the irresponsible, sheepish way of thinking that Wizards displayed), but now as she watched Bruce accept the burdens as his due – she wanted to rebel on his behalf. Why was this his problem? The police and District Attorney's office were clumsy and incompetent – they had failed to get either the money or Lau. What fault of Bruce's was there? Why was he the one who had to fix things?
She got angry as she remembered the meeting on the rooftop. She had only been there, because he had disappeared before dinner without saying anything and taking into consideration the argument they'd had in the afternoon, she logically took her Invisibility Cloak and Apparated straight to him – right in the middle of the conversation between Batman, Lieutenant Gordon and Harvey Dent.
And, Merlin, was she glad she had done that. He probably wouldn't have told her otherwise.
"You said you weren't looking to become my sidekick," he reminded her, grunting as he finally pulled the mid-section plates off.
She stopped swirling and blinked, trying to reassert which way was where naturally. "I definitely am not," she assured sounding far more grounded than she felt. She shook her head feeling foolish at having given in to the impulse to whirl in the first place. She tried to glare at him and failed, having trouble concentrating on him in the first place.
"There you have it."
She almost missed that. It was a moment before she replied, watching him sharply, "Doesn't mean I won't help, if you ask."
"I know," he looked at her softly. All she ever wanted of him was to ask if he needed anything, nothing more. Ask and she would do her damnedest to provide. Strangely it made him feel vulnerable.
He resisted the urge to smile as he saw a scowl settle on her face. He could read her thoughts easily in the way she looked at him; she didn't even need to voice a thing. He wondered if she was such an open book to everyone, or was he just... He put aside the vambraces and moved closer to her, dropping into the chair nearest to her. He rolled his chair, until he was in front of her, and quite unthinkingly put his hands on her knees.
"You have a great talent and a great power, and I feel both honoured and humbled that you would waste your gift to help me so I don't want to abuse the privilege, besides this is something Batman must do – something he must be seen doing. Not to mention – do you really want to tell that you can just waltz into Hong Kong and do as you please? You were a Minister for your people in your country. Doesn't that imply that such a system might exist elsewhere? Wouldn't there be rules and regulations, as there are with me?"
She leaned in closer, putting her hands on his shoulders, squeezing to emphasize her point, "It wouldn't be wasting."
He grinned, leaning in closer. "You're avoiding the question."
"It would take some planning," she admitted quietly, watching him intensely.
"Same here," he muttered distractedly before leaning further in for a tentative kiss. Their knees bumped painfully just as their lips did and the moment was shattered. Bellatrix laughed and Bruce grinned. "So, if it's all the same, I'll deal with Lau myself."
She pushed her chair away, still chuckling. "Fine," she agreed, easily.
As they had put their friendship on the forefront these past few weeks, so they had put any other type of relationship on a backburner. They had worked at building up the trust that had been lost and catching up with each other's lives.
However even though they didn't speak of it - neither had forgotten the kiss they shared that afternoon before the ruins of Wayne manor. And as the distance of time spent apart between them lessened so their conversations turned from serious to flirtatious, touches lingered. They had been children, barely aware of how important they were to each other when they split apart. And now... It was different. They were different.
BBRBW
"It's something new, isn't it?" Bruce asked brushing his fingers against the material of his new armour. It seemed softer than before, and somewhat scaly.
"That, Mister Wayne, is dragon-hide," Lucius said with just a hint of pride in his tone. It had been a bit of a challenge to get the dragon skin to integrate with the enforced titanium plates for the armour, but in the end, it was exactly what had been hoped.
"What?" Bruce frowned questioningly.
"Your friend provided it. That is the strongest flexible, natural material in the world."
"Really?" he asked. "How come we didn't use it before?"
"Dragons are magical creatures and their hide is hard to obtain even for Wizarding folk. Think of it as something similar to trade in ivory," Lucius had tried to get it before, by himself, a long time ago when he had first learned of Wizarding World. He had failed, realizing not only how expensive the skin was, but also how selective the sellers were of their clientele.
"And she just went and got it in one afternoon…," Bruce muttered more to himself than to Lucius, though the other man heard him quite clearly.
"Lady Black is extremely resourceful," he replied in kind. "Now, if you observe, this armour will be more flexible than the previous ones – that's because we used a lot of small plates instead of few larger ones, thanks to the dragon hide – there really isn't any trade off. It will withstand fire, blunt force, and knives. Concentrated automatic fire still might be a bit of a problem, so don't stand around imitating a target, if you can."
"You know me, Lucius," Bruce grinned. "A good imitation goes a long way," then he grabbed a vambrace, shifting it in his hands, inspecting it as daggers flew out narrowly missing him. He barely raised an eyebrow.
"Perhaps you should read the instruction manual first?" Lucius enquired only partially meaning it as a joke.
BBRBW
"Are you sure you don't want me to just Apparate there and get the guy?" she asked trying to sound nonchalant. Still pretending that the parchment in front of her had all her attention.
During the last few days since her short excursion back to England and a few other places, she had moved quite a lot of her things into his penthouse and more specifically into the study. He didn't use it as Bruce Wayne and Batman had his own secret, personal underground space so she felt no guilt taking over the cabinet.
She might not be the Minister any longer, but she was still Lady Black and there was always paperwork and she had ignored it for far too long. In front of her at the moment were Gringott's reports and those of her Account Manager – she needed to sign off on her newest business acquisitions in Wizarding world.
"Are you sure Natasha will agree?" Bruce replied with a question, lounging in the armchair. He was sipping a nutritional cocktail.
"Of course," Bellatrix replied not even looking up from her paperwork. "You seem to have made quite an impression," the words slipped out as an after-thought. She grimaced but didn't adjust her previous statement. Logically she knew that Natasha was just eager to help and glad to make some mischief. On the other hand, …
"Are you jealous?" he teased, his eyes suddenly alight with mischief.
"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed finally looking up at him. She signed the paper beneath her quill without looking and shoved it aside violently, uncaring whether the wet ink smeared.
"We talked about you all the time you were gone," Bruce spoke reassuringly, though the cocky grin on his face somewhat ruined the effect.
"Now that is somewhat disturbing," she sneered, trying not to smile, but her good humour showed in her tone.
She hadn't seriously considered that there was anything happening between Bruce and Natasha, not that she, strictly speaking, had any claim on him but that of a close friend despite the tension mounting between them lately. So, the green tinged monster of envy that had wrapped itself with delicate tendrils around her throat a moment earlier both surprised and annoyed her. What was worse, she could see that her predicament clearly amused Bruce. She glared at him, without heat.
BBRBW
"Somehow this is your fault," Bruce whispered to Bellatrix before smiling widely for the cameras.
Bellatrix had been beside him and Alfred almost every step of the planning and as much as she insisted that she wasn't a part of his Batman crusade - she still provided her insight when she thought it necessary.
"I didn't tell you to buy the whole bloody island," she replied quietly through her teeth, also grinning for the reporters while hanging on his arm as she was his date for the event.
"No, no - you just suggested I buy out the company who owned it," his lips barely moved as he pushed the words out waving at the people watching them in general.
Bellatrix shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear – it was so hot here it was hard to breathe even with the cooling charms she had cast. "It seemed more sensible."
"What the hell would I do with a pineapple empire?"
She wondered how manic their smiles will seem on the photos with them talking through their teeth all the time while they were being photographed. "Make juice," she replied as succinctly as possible.
He laughed and lead them off the airfield where they had been greeted by most of the meagre population of the island and major business owners (hoteliers, mostly), and reporters both from the island and not. It spoke about the enthusiasm of the people that they had been waiting for them to arrive here, where on the airstrip the temperature was at least twice as much as it was off it.
Bellatrix breathed deeply only once the door with the tinted windows of their jeep closed and they were alone in the backseat of the conditioned vehicle. She relaxed against the cool leather seats and cancelled the cooling charm she had placed on herself and him before exiting the plane. The charm had let her body keep a pleasant temperature, but the air on the field had been almost unbearable to inhale.
"Where would you like to go?" their driver asked.
They shared a glance and Bellatrix indicated that she really didn't care so Bruce asked for a tour of his newly bought island. Her idea of buying out the company was a more logical one, but Bruce had done research on the owner and knew that just because Wayne Enterprises could buy out the shares and debts, and gain controlling interest – just because he could, didn't mean he should. Bruce didn't want to take the corporate rising anew away from the man who was struggling to build it up from ashes, from a man to whom it was legacy. It seemed more collegial and also more fitting to his playboy image to buy just the island so that he could vacation there. With the Russian Ballet. And Bellatrix.
BBRBW
Bellatrix was back on the island, in a hotel instead of on the yacht. Contrary to Natasha she had no wish to pretend to be a slowly cooking meal in the merciless sun of South Pacific. She was lounging in her hotel suite when a phoenix appeared before her bearing the seal of the British Minister for Magic. She took it tentatively. The bird burst into flames, disappearing immediately.
Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black
Lady Black, Bellatrix
She opened it.
Dear cousin,
I apologize if the phoenix was an unwelcome surprise, but Fawkes was the only one willing and able to get this missive to you, and this is very important.
We have captured Lucius Malfoy. We have not had any news of Narcissa and little Draco as of yet, and... Andromeda has gone missing too. It's been three days. Theodore is beside himself.
Also, we cannot interrogate Malfoy. Upon capture he held one of my Aurors hostage and extracted an Unbreakable Vow on conditions that you interrogate him and if we try anything else – any magical or mundane means then they shall have no effect and the Auror in question will die. Veritaserum is the first thing we attempted. My Auror is dead. Malfoy is not talking. We cannot even bloody touch him with the intention to beat the answers out.
Faithfully yours,
Sirius Black.
She crunched the letter in her fist before going to the bathroom – she threw it in the bath and set it on fire. Lucius Malfoy couldn't get to her, so he had taken he sister. Her heavily pregnant sister. The flames died, but a sinister smile settled on her face. She would interrogate him alright.
BBRBW
They were in the courtroom 5. There was no one at the podium nor in any of the higher seats. Lucius Malfoy was sitting in the centre of the circular room, shackled to his chair. Sirius and Lily were sitting on a bench, James was standing near Lucius, supervising the prisoner as Head Auror. There were Unspeakables, covered by long cloaks and deep hoods sitting in the spectator's places.
Bellatrix marched in from a side door. Her steps echoed ominously in the room. She spun on her heel to stand, facing Lord Malfoy. Her hands were calmly by her sides, she wasn't clutching anything, she looked... Serene. Serious, but utterly in control. She didn't speak.
Neither did Lucius.
For a while at least. James was already impatient and getting more so by the minute. He wanted to prod the arrogant blonde with his wand to make him talk, but since neither Sirius nor Bellatrix made any move – he also bid his time. Not that he hadn't kicked the bastard before, but that hadn't had any effect either. James couldn't guess whether that was because of the Vow or because Malfoy was extremely good at faking it.
"This is so typical for you, Lady Black, you wait until someone else makes a move reserving the right to judge afterwards... Quite like Dumbledore," Malfoy spoke slowly and clearly as if they were having a moderately boring discussion over tea.
Bellatrix's eyes opened more widely at the accusation. It was an insult, and one that very few would have known to make, one that very few would have known would have a target to reach. For most being compared to Dumbledore would be the highest compliment. Lily bristled in the background.
"Dumbledore is a great man," James snarled.
Lucius sneered back at him. "You're more alike to a rabid forest animal than a Wizarding Lord, Potter."
"Focus, Lord Malfoy," Bellatrix barked, speaking for the first time since entering this room. "You wanted me here for a reason. I'm still waiting on that."
Lucius immediately turned his attention to her. He cocked his head to a side and smirked, "You do it so prettily, do you not? Wait. Bide your time. Strike only when it benefits yourself."
Bellatrix didn't reply. Her expression became almost curious. Her nature was impatient and impetuous though not thoughtless. She would not have described herself as the spider Malfoy named her.
"Those fools," he said indicating everybody else in the room. "They think you saved them, but you did something far worse, did you not? You gave them the control to have beasts run around among us as if they belong, you gave them the freedom to pollute our bloodlines with mud, in the end – you gave them their world and let them at it. And you know what it is exactly what you did, do you not?" his tone grew lower and lower as he spoke.
"Yes," she answered surely, to the shock and concern of others.
Lucius barred his teeth in a savage smile. "You gave them the devil's plaything. And then you left being hailed as a hero," he mocked. "Wherever do you hide, Milady?"
"You do not seriously expect me to answer that," she looked down at him, but didn't come closer than a hand could reach, even though he was chained.
"Oh, but I'm telling you a story, why don't you return the favour? I am chained after all. Where would I go and whom would I tell?" he rattled his bonds to prove his point.
"I've been accused of being arrogant, but I don't think I'm a fool enough to believe that you are in that seat out of anything but your own wish."
The blonde wizard inclined his head lightly. "Bravo, Lady Black."
"What do you mean?" James asked, frowning. "What does he mean?" His wand was trained on Lucius, as it had been since the prisoner had been transported here. "Those chains are unbreakable."
Bellatrix didn't react to him. She just smiled softly, sinisterly. Waiting.
"If you ever wish to see either of your sisters again, you will order them to release me," Lucius told her almost gently.
Before Sirius or anyone else for that matter could protest or even worse – release the man, Bellatrix spoke, "You don't expect me to actually let you go."
"No," he breathed, slumping in his chair. "But then again, who knows what might happen to your beautiful girls in my Lord's care."
"What?" Sirius demanded, rising from his chair. Lily's gaze darted between Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy as understanding slowly dawned on her. James chewed on his bottom lip.
Bellatrix threw out her arm, gesturing for Sirius to sit back down. "Your Lord's?" she inquired innocently almost as if she didn't care or comprehend the implication.
Lucius' features trembled and then slowly changed into the face of Amycus Carrow.
The Unspeakables remained still, but the rest were confused. Lily gasped, James started checking the doors, Sirius sat – flabbergasted.
Bellatrix paled. But not for any reason anyone else present might assume. Andromeda's baby was to be the only metamorphmagus in the past five decades. And very, very few knew that small fact. Carrows did not have such a gift in their bloodline.
She lunged forward grasping Carrow by the lapels of his robe, kneeling in his lap – her calm replaced by unconcealed fury. "What has Malfoy done with them?" she snarled.
Carrow laughed. "You will find out. Eventually." Then he bit down on poisonous seed within his mouth and died in her arms.
Bellatrix straightened, got to her feet, letting the body carelessly drop to the floor still chained to the chair. She swirled around addressing everyone present, "He's not Malfoy so the Oath could not have been binding," she announced. "The only reason your Auror is dead, because the other must have been a spy. Get him."
"Her," Lily said. "She was sent home, because of the stress..."
"Bellatrix, I'm so sorry," Sirius said reaching for her to grasp her shoulder, to try comfort her in some way, but balked when she glared at him.
"We'll find him," James swore.
"No, you won't," Bellatrix argued. "Hasn't he already proven with this that he is clever? Far cleverer than the clumsy morons you employ. You will find him when he wants to be found and not the other way around. In the meantime – I suggest you prepare."
"For what?"
"Whatever's coming."
BBRBW
Bruce stood silently, just holding her close and doing exactly what he had been doing for years – waiting. He knew he could not guess what was on her mind, so like numerous times before he just waited for her to tell him. In truth – there was always a level on which neither of them ever understood the other, but they always wanted to, so they always waited, always patiently looked for the right time to push for answers. Had there ever been two people so very different, but so very hell bent on communicating? Making it work?
"I don't like this," she said leaning back into his embrace to rest her head against Bruce's shoulder. It was ridiculous and partially she realized how pathetic it was, but his mere presence comforted her, and she wasn't above taking that comfort.
"They're in none of the Black estates unless there's one under Fidelius in which case there is no way for me to find it unless I'm told specifically, and all Malfoy's properties were confiscated so they're out while Ted has just the one house, and Lucius has obviously been hiding out for far longer than Andromeda's been missing.
'They have no funds, no estates – everything registered has been frozen and is consequently under Ministry's control. Anything else… There's just no way to find out short of combing through every square meter of the British Isles, and there's just not enough manpower for that, though I've already suggested they begin and do so in Wales."
He tightened his arms around her, hugging her closer to his chest. "Is there anything I can do?"
She shifted lightly in his arms. "No," she replied. "I know you want to help, but no."
The light breeze on the balcony in the tropical island was heavenly. A break in the heaviness that hung in the air. She had got back to the hotel just before he returned from Hong Kong. They had this night before all had to return to Gotham City.
"Perhaps some paperwork I can help you go through?"
"That's just it, Bruce. Lucius isn't going to attack with paperwork, and I've secured everything in that area a long time ago, no… What I'm afraid of is what he might have already done."
"What do you mean?"
She didn't want to answer. Carrow had had metamorphmagus abilities. While it had been easy to convince most of the Aurors and Unspeakables present that Carrow had in fact probably ingested some kind of advanced Polyjuice potion – she knew it was not the only explanation, as did Lily and Sirius, and James. And there were only so many ways how to steal another wizard's power. She dreaded to think which one Malfoy had used.
"It's just… He has my sisters, Bruce. This is not war. This is personal," she told him the basics, but not the whole of it. She knew she was going back on their promise, but this was something he didn't need to know. It was a terrible piece of knowledge – something nobody should know about and it wasn't that she didn't trust him. She didn't want to burden him with it.
"There's nothing you can do at the moment either?"
"I could start at one point and try to comb through the whole bloody island."
"You could," he agreed succumbing to temptation and slipping his hand into her hair to play with the strands. "Do you honestly believe that that would make a difference?" His fingers massaged her scalp, his voice low and near her skin.
She smiled, resignedly. "I know it wouldn't. Until Malfoy is ready to make the next move – there's nothing really to be done," she said aloud what she had known from the start. It didn't make her feel better. "I just… I hate that somehow it has come to this – that he has been able to play me like this - that now I have to wait on him."
"You'll get him," Bruce assured her, leaning in lower. "I know you will," he maintained, and pressed a light kiss against her neck. Then another, moving higher against her jawline until she turned her face and a short moment later, he captured her lips. She sighed into the kiss. They had been dancing around this for weeks.
And she wanted the comfort of a touch right now. Something with which to forget her mounting frustrations and setbacks. It was easy to turn in his embrace, find the buttons of his shirt and pull them apart.
She kissed him a tad desperately - looking for forgetfulness. She pushed him from balcony back into the suite a tad violently, but he went easily. The man was built like a tank, but underneath her hands he gave in softly. Whenever she needed. Whatever she needed.
Bellatrix paused – frozen for a moment as she looked over his form – his white shirt open, eyes dark.
The change from balcony to the air-conditioned room felt like the dawn of an understanding. Bruce wasn't just her friend. He knew her nature more than any other and he … He had half the world in the palm of his hand. He had the underworld shaking at the mention of his name. He had the composure to weather the storms she brought his way by her character and circumstance.
He was not someone she could take as a lover casually.
She smiled realizing another thing.
When she moved – she came to him gentled. The gown she had worn underneath her robes at the courthouse opened easily with a tendril of her magic. When she pressed close to him, she saw in his eyes a question he did not dare voice yet. A light kiss to the corner of his mouth, her palms ghosted across his chest. "When you know the question, you want to ask – I will have the answer," she whispered.
"I… Bellatrix," his arms around her, sliding between the openings in her dress, keeping her close. Always trying to keep her close.
"Shhh, words will come later," she interrupted. "Tonight, is for something else."
BBRBW
They had been back in Gotham City for nearly two weeks now. Everywhere they had been everyone seemed to be talking of Harvey Dent and the case he had made against the mob. Thousands of charges altogether, hundreds of criminals.
Bellatrix had two minds about it – one, she was glad that there was someone in the legal system that was tackling the issue; two – all of this was only possible because of Bruce. And she had a bad feeling that this was not the end of Gotham needing him as its saviour. But she didn't mind applying pressure where result could be achieved so she had happily assisted Bruce in organizing fundraiser for Dent.
"What's going on?" Bellatrix asked as she walked down the stairs towards Alfred and Bruce.
Both of them immediately turned to her and Bruce intentionally moved in front of the TV screen, using the remote to shut down the sound, unable to reach the turn-off button with his thumb. She, of course, noticed, he wasn't exactly subtle in his movements.
"Ehm," Bruce cleared his throat struck classically speechless for a moment as he beheld her.
The dress Bellatrix was wearing was a strapless gown of beige silk double faced satin, pleated from the neckline till waist, making the gown form-fitting down to her hips from which the expensive, liberally used fabric flowed freely to her ankles. Starting from just under the breast line was an overlaying layer of exquisitely embroidered antique champagne coloured lace from Acromantula silk with small pearls woven in the patterns, giving the outfit a somewhat ethereal sheen due to being several hues lighter than the gown itself. In her arms, completing the outfit was a light scarf from the same Acromantula silk, and her high-heeled shoes that were the same soft beige colour as the gown made her barely an inch shorter than Bruce.
Her hair was pulled up completely without leaving a strand out so as not to distract from the gown itself. Her naturally curly hair was pulled tight and twisted in intricate patterns on the back of her head, and the weaves enhanced with pearls.
When Bruce saw her, he felt that only one thing was missing.
Bellatrix scowled when he didn't offer an answer at all, much less a satisfactory one. She strode over, yanking the remote out of his hand before he could react and turning the sound on.
"Bellatrix, don't," he protested belatedly. She just glanced at him, raising a questioning eyebrow before turning her attention back to the news channel.
The airing of Joker's video was over, but the reporter was still going on about the fake Batman murder, and how the body had been dumped at the City Hall. Bellatrix pursed her lips, scowling more heavily as she brought up the digital programme and selected a repeat.
Alfred tactfully retreated a bit further, pretending to inspect the preparations for the fundraiser, but still watching over them.
She exhaled heavily when reel was over and clicked, turning the TV off. "Were you going to tell me?" she asked staring ahead, out the windows at Gotham's skyline.
"It's not important," he replied reaching for her.
"It's a threat on your life," she countered incredulously, turning to face him, placing her hands on her hips, aggressively. "You seem to take those against mine seriously."
"It's a threat against Batman," he placated, a light caress against her shoulder.
"Semantics," Bellatrix snapped back, pulling away.
Bruce sighed. "Bella, let's not do this right now," he asked. "Yes, the Joker is dangerous, and no, there is nothing that I can do about him at the moment, but I most certainly will once I get the chance. You look lovely and I feel great, can we just enjoy the party tonight?"
She didn't like it – letting the matter go, trying to relax in the moment when she knew that out there was a psychopath with a vendetta. However – she could see his logic. Same as with Lucius Malfoy – there was nothing to be done about it on the spot.
"Fine," far it be for her to be unreasonable.
"Good. Now, before we go, there's something you seem to be missing," he said casually. "Wait a minute," he instructed before jogging back upstairs.
She turned to Alfred who was near enough to be talked to and far enough not to be intruding when she and Bruce had been fighting. Again. "I'm not overreacting," it was a question disguised as a statement. "There is a reason to be concerned."
Alfred took a deep breath, "I won't say there isn't a cause for worry, but Master Wayne made a fine point as well. You look terrific, Miss Black, and you should enjoy tonight."
"I know," she replied resignedly, not paying much attention to the compliment. She knew the dress was spectacular – it had cost a fortune, after all, and had been custom sewn specifically for the banquet she had organized when she had taken over Rosier Ltd., but far more important at the moment on her mind was the issue with Bruce.
"A few months ago, I could have named two reasons at most, why Master Bruce would go to such lengths to organize a social event, and I'm glad to say that neither is relevant now."
"I'm not sure I unders…," she was interrupted by Bruce returning. He had donned the jacket for his suit and was carrying in his hand a square jewellery box. Alfred recognized it immediately. Bellatrix didn't. Bruce smiled mysteriously, as he handed it to her.
Curious, Bellatrix opened it carefully, and it took her but few moments to realize what she was looking at. She immediately raised her eyes back to Bruce. "Those were your mother's," she said softly, before glancing back down, letting her fingers ghost over the delicate pearl necklace. "You had it remade," she said thoughtfully.
She loved pearls. She had always had a weakness for pearl jewellery, which was a trait she knew she shared with his late mother. It is generally accepted that – diamonds are the jewels that are forever, that they symbolize wealth, eternity, and other equally sought-after ideals. However Bellatrix loved pearls exactly because they were temperamental, required care and consideration, could be as expensive as any tiny diamond, and what's more… Pearls weren't forever, perfectly maintained they could last for three centuries at most before crumbling to dust, and that's the thing about pearls that she loved. Rocks could be passed on from generation to generation, but pearls for the most time only ever had one owner. Especially if Wizarding kind.
"I thought they would fit nicely with what you're wearing tonight," he said, smiling.
"I'd love to wear them," she replied almost reverently as she caressed the jewels once more before thrusting the box back at him. "Put them on, please."
He took the pearls, and let the box drop in the nearby chair. He placed them around her neck and did the clasp quickly, but lingered in place, one of his hands on her shoulder, the other lightly caressing the back of her neck. He found it easier to say what he wanted to say without her looking at him. "It's not just for tonight," Bruce whispered in her ear. "I want you to have them. Forever."
She closed her eyes for a moment. There really was no other answer, nothing to think about, but still – she needed a moment. This was dangerously close to a question that they still hadn't discussed. She whirled around, his hands sliding from her shoulders and back. "All right," she grinned brilliantly.
"Okay," he was almost relieved, because it wasn't just about the pearls or about what they meant to him. It was about her.
BBRBW
It was all, of course, about making an entrance, but Bellatrix hadn't been ecstatic about taking the helicopter in the first place so she didn't hesitate to grip Bruce's hand hard enough to hurt as he helped her out of one. The rotors were slowing down, but the wind still wreaked havoc on the delicate threads of her dress. She pointedly took a moment to straighten the material before allowing him to lead her indoors where all were already watching their every movement.
Alfred opened the door for them, and Bruce led her in on his arm showing her off as a prized possession. She was amused by the smug expression on his face and the way it fit him so well, and did her part as well, moving elegantly and arrogantly, making sure that she was exactly in spots where light would shine at the right angle to emphasize the exquisite pearls adorning her.
Quite contrary to Bruce's birthday party where there had only been a somewhat limited and selected group of individuals invited, here where all those wealthy and powerful with a vested interest in Gotham and among them quite a few entrepreneurs that Bellatrix herself was familiar with.
She grinned as she heard whispers begin lightly and then quieten down as Bruce moved forward, beginning to talk. She stood near him and did what was required of her – looked pretty – tuning out most of his speech and focusing on Rachel. Bella had been itching to meet her for weeks. The other woman was staring, squinting at her and Bellatrix knew that the forcefully forgotten memories were nudging at Rachel's mind, asking to be remembered. Bellatrix smirked at her.
Absent-mindedly Bella wondered how long it would take for rumours of a merger between Rosier Limited and Wayne Enterprises to start up, and how long it would take for them to die down. As she saw several business tycoons already pushing their heads together, discussing something, she knew the answer to her first question.
BBRBW
Rachel watched Bruce and that woman (the one she had never seen before in her life but felt like she should know) mingle with the guests, eventually separating as their acquaintances dragged them different ways. Rachel smiled and engaged in small talk all the while trying to watch either Bruce or his guest.
"Ah, I see you're wondering about the same thing that we are, Miss Dawes."
Rachel nearly jumped, startled out of her thoughts by the amused remark. She turned all her attention to Edward Moore – the man whom she recognized as a member of the board of directors at Wayne Enterprises. "Yes?"
"Whether the arrangement between Mister Wayne and Miss Rosier will also produce an arrangement between their companies," the man commented lightly.
"Rosier…," Rachel drawled. "Why does that sound familiar?"
"Rosier Limited, most likely. Also, a family company not unlike Wayne Enterprises," Edward replied. "It's relatively young European conglomerate – Miss Rosier is the second-generation owner, she has inherited it from her father. They dominate the European market."
Rachel glanced quickly at this Miss Rosier. So, she was exactly like Bruce, Rachel thought. Or as Bruce pretends to be, because he is not as shallow as he acts, but she… The cost of her dress if sold – it could probably feed several African villages for a year. Rachel had never been so concerned about the welfare of people in Africa.
BBRBW
They were swaying softly to the band. It was a slow song. It hardly carried in the large room, but that's why a live band had been chosen over a DJ. There were several other couples nearby, but further in the penthouse the conversation amidst the crowd was alive and loud.
Harvey was mingling with the guests that technically were his. Rachel was staring.
Bellatrix caught her stare over Bruce's shoulder. She smirked, but her expression was half-hidden by Bruce. Bella knew that the memory charm on Rachel must be breaking. It was just a question of time. Her gaze moved back to her dance partner.
They didn't talk. They didn't need to. At that moment they understood each other perfectly. There was nothing to argue about, nothing to discuss and nothing yet to confess. It was a still moment of time, if for the fact that they were dancing.
The party was nice. She loved the pearls. He appreciated that she had come with him. They both spared a thought to the boards of their companies and how amusing it will be to deal with the rumours that this evening will inspire.
There was no awkwardness, no hesitation, and no doubts. When they were together the universe clicked – everything in the world seemed to be in its rightful place. They had never really talked about what it was between them – they were friends, best friends, lovers now and on a slow track to something else entirely. Everything that had happened and would happen seemed just like another step in a predetermined long way and neither too early nor too late.
Bellatrix had never thought that it would be like this – peaceful. It was peaceful with Bruce. Every moment she spent with him she felt so very alive yet calm, in control and satisfied. All the things that she had to work hard to be at other times especially when usually she felt like a raging storm, heedless and violent.
Peace was underrated. The thought seemed ridiculous, but when he took her in his arms it seemed like the only thing important in this world.
BBRBW
Rachel had never been one to avoid confrontation. She waited for a moment when Bellatrix was alone, or at least, not with Bruce, and attacked, that is, moved closer to introduce herself.
The smile Rachel gave Bellatrix was brilliant and fake. "We have not been introduced! I'm Rachel Dawes. Bruce's oldest friend."
Bella's smile was soft. Like a wolf's after it has dined. "Yes, it would seem so," she replied not specifying to which statement her comment applied.
Rachel squinted catching the implied insult; she wasn't old! She and the woman were about the same age! "I've not seen you around before," Rachel wasn't dissuaded in the least.
"I'm in Gotham sporadically and in the last seven years almost not at all," Bella replied and took a glass of champagne from a plate of a passing waiter.
"Really?" Rachel's smile became tighter. "I wonder, how do you know Bruce?"
Bellatrix did not like to be interrogated and that was exactly what this semi-polite conversation was. But at the same time, she was just a pinch amused and curious about how far Rachel's memory was jogged. "I've known him for a long time."
Rachel wanted answers. That didn't mean she wanted the other woman to know that she wanted them. She knew that she was already pressing too much but couldn't really help herself. "He is quite a friend, isn't he?" she asked, eyes searching for Bruce. "Excuse me."
Bellatrix caught her lightly by the arm. "I'm so sorry. How rude of me, I forgot to even tell you my name," she pulled Rachel back into the conversation. "I'm Bellatrix Rosier."
"Pleased to meet you," Rachel said almost automatically. She lost sight of Bruce and for a moment, staring at Bella's face, she got really confused. Almost dizzy.
"Are you quite alright?" Bella asked, the note of concern in her voice – a perfection.
"Yes," Rachel replied unconvincingly. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine."
Bellatrix nodded kindly. "The champagne is exquisite, but quite strong," she commented.
Rachel felt like she should blush. She didn't. "Haven't tasted it yet."
"Of course," Bella said in the same kind, condescending tone.
"If you'll excuse me, I have to go to the ladies' room," Rachel forced another smile.
"Of course, of course," Bella moved aside and indicated doors further down the hall, "Take left, that's a guest room, you'll find a private bathroom there."
BBRBW
He had come out to get some fresh air. He'd lost Bellatrix in the crowd and the last he'd seen her she'd been having good time or at least pretending very well to have a good time. He had never really grown used to parties such as this. He felt that he could divide his life into two parts – before he went away and when he came back. Before he went away, he'd been a child, a teenager, a confused young man and now he was a man, a good man, he hoped, but... He chuckled. Sometimes he wondered how people even bought his act. He hadn't grown up partying, he'd just shown up already an adult. How could people think that this was all he wanted in life?
It was hard to mix and mingle in the merry crowd as if it was his life's sole purpose and ambition. It was hard to enjoy the party which is probably why Alfred thought it was a one in a century kind of miracle that he had suggested this in the first place. He envied Bellatrix a little. He knew that she'd grown up with this, and by rights so should have he, but his life had been much more secluded.
He leaned against the balcony and watched the people inside. Watched Bellatrix. She moved easily through the crowd, smiled, and laughed in what seemed to be the right moments engaging almost half the room at a time. She was the perfect hostess. For a moment he considered asking her for lessons. He was confident in himself, so it wasn't hard to appear arrogant at times, but she... She had always worn arrogance as an exquisite perfume.
He almost didn't notice Rachel until she was barely five steps from him.
Their conversation was short and though he dominated most of it, he still felt he hadn't said anything at all. Rachel left with Harvey and Bruce smelled the remains of the champagne in his glass. He wasn't drinking tonight, though at the moment he wished he was.
He was glad Rachel was with Harvey. He really was. He'd be hurt if the situation was any different, but it wasn't and so he wasn't. Rachel had promised she'd wait for him, but the way he'd seen it the last few months she had never really been free to wait in the first place. And to think – he had never been free for her either. For Rachel's part maybe she had thought she was, but …
Bruce breathed in deeply the late evening air. It smelled better up here on the balcony. Nowhere near as fresh as it had been at the mansion, but better than anywhere else in the city.
What he had tried to tell Rachel in his roundabout way, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager, was that the day when Batman was no longer needed was coming, but that he didn't need her to wait for him, that he didn't want her to wait for him. Thankfully Rachel had understood the main idea.
She said that he couldn't ask her to wait for that. He wasn't.
BBRBW
While Bruce in no way approved of the fact that Joker had crashed his party, he had to admit that jumping from the penthouse was the most exciting aspect of his evening. Though the award for the most pleasant moment went to the dance he had managed to have with Bellatrix before they were pulled apart by the curiousness of their guests.
"I can't believe we survived the fall," Rachel wondered gazing up at the night sky, the building. She was strangely comfortable in Bruce's arms. Neither the glass nor the car, crushed underneath them, bothered her. "I can't believe we're not even injured. You're okay, right?"
"Yes, I'm fine," he replied in Batman's hoarse voice.
"Is Harvey safe?" she asked looking at Bruce and seeing only the pitch-black mask and his eyes, shining.
"He should still be out, so if he's still where I put him, yes, he is."
"Thank you," she said earnestly. "Thanks for jumping after me and for saving Harvey."
"That's what I do."
She laughed. "Yes, it is."
People were gathering around them. The moment was over. It was time to climb down, make sure that the police were already on their way. Bruce had to go back upstairs make sure that Joker was already gone, that he wasn't threatening anyone else, but Racel wanted to selfishly steal just a few more moments.
"On the roof, you told me..."
"I don't think this is a good time for that conversation," he interrupted her, sitting up. "You're sitting on my cloak, so you'll have to climb down first."
BBRBW
The man in a clown's mask, who had let his gun just hang at his side to grab with both hands what the terrified guests threw at him; he moved towards her, and extended his hand reaching for her pearls. Bellatrix took a couple of steps back, as if intimidated, but her goal was to reach the table. The man cornered her against it.
"Hello, pretty," he rasped. "You know what I want," he said reaching for her throat and her necklace.
Bellatrix smashed the cup of her glass against the table, spilling the champagne and pushed the shards against the man's throat. "Think again," she snarled.
The other clowns, nearest to them, pointed their guns at her.
"Drop the glass, doll," the man in her grasp laughed. She pressed the glass into his throat until it drew blood.
"You think they can shoot me before I slit you open?"
"Oh, gorgeous, and you are gorgeous – what a spirit in you!" the Joker sauntered closer, intrigued. He was short on time since he knew that it was unlikely that Batsy was seriously hurt by the fall, but he never could just resist. "Tell me, what's your name, precious?"
Bellatrix sneered, not letting her gaze wander from the clown she already had in her grasp. She could slit the man's throat before anyone blinked. The surrounding intruders levelled their weapons once again at her.
"I'm not very patient, love," Joker said, sliding next to her and cocking his head as he stared, unconcerned, at the man she was poised to kill. He could smell the fear on the guy, and that angered him. He moved swiftly, stabbing his own knife in the man's heart four times, and then twisting it. With each draw of the knife, blood spattered on Joker and Bellatrix – she leaned as far away as she could, but there was nowhere to retreat, she already was up against the table.
Oh, the silk…, she thought, annoyed.
"Where were we?" Joker asked absent-mindedly as he wiped his knife clean on his own jacket. The other clown dropped dead to the floor.
"Names," she replied dryly.
"So then, precious, let's make a deal – you can keep your pearls, but you tell me your name, whaddya say?"
She narrowed her eyes, but replied nonetheless, "Bellatrix Rosier."
"Now that was easy, wasn't it?" he slid up next to her, pushing the plates out of the way to sit on the edge of the table. "Unlike how I got these scars," he waved with his knife. "Do you want to know how I got these scars?" he asked leaning in closer to her ear.
She still had a death grip on the glass. "Not particularly," she replied.
He shrugged. He was short on time anyway. "At least you're honest," then he jumped off the table and grabbed her by her hair pulling her with him. Bellatrix hissed, but before she could swing with her glass, he pulled her into an embrace and put a knife beneath her chin. "You're a lot of trouble, Bella dear, you know that?"
"Thought you said you liked a little fight?" she snarled as he led her forward to the elevators. The man had been faster than she anticipated, but he would pay for that.
The guests watched, terrified. She hoped none of them would attempt to do anything stupid. She could handle her own, once she'd be out of sight. She couldn't very well use magic in a room full of muggles.
"That's true, I do," it wasn't possible to tell whether he was truly smiling or not.
She concentrated on a wandless binding spell to ensure that no one moved at least for a moment, her eyes had fallen closed in concentration so she didn't notice when the clown pushed her into elevator, but she as her eyes snapped open her control of the spell broke and released the people in the penthouse. She fell against the back of the elevator cabin.
"You're gonna be fun. For some time anyway," he said pushing the floor button with a gun he had somehow acquired during the time she hadn't been paying attention to him.
"What are you planning?" she gathered herself, stood straighter and straightened her blood spoiled dress. She was being kidnapped. She didn't feel fear. These were muggles after all. And she was arrogant. She had killed Voldemort. She was a priestess of Dark Magic. What can they possibly do, hah.
"I don't plan, gorgeous," he replied with a mad grin. "But I do think there will be a lot of people coming after you."
"And what exactly about that fact makes you so smug?"
He pivoted on his heel to face her, tapped the end of her nose, and announced, "Their facial expressions when they finally find you!"
She frowned. "Are you planning to kill me? That's just so… cliché."
He shrugged. "All the best things become clichés, darling, but just follow along now, would you," he leaned in conspirationally. "Feel free to struggle and make trouble, I just love when people do that. And that was an intentional rhyme."
Bellatrix couldn't stand the overly confident expression on his painted face. She moved swiftly, punching him in the nose with her elbow. He punched right back with his fist to her temple, dropping her before she could draw her wand.
He held his dripping nose and rolled his shoulders. "Works every time," he grinned at his men.
She had never been outright punched in the face before. Wizards just don't do that.
The elevator doors opened, but she was still dazed on the floor. Two of the clowns picked her up by each elbow and dragged her with them. They were halfway to the getaway car when Bellatrix finally found her footing. She tried to touch her temple, it felt swollen, she was sure it was blue, but the men pulled her arms each to a side and she just couldn't overpower them.
Her head was pounding. The floor seemed skewed to a side for at least thirty degrees. She remembered the story about Tzar Ivan the Terrible and how he had killed his son by striking him on a temple. She didn't want her brain to fall out. These were just muggles, after all.
They threw her in the back of the van. She could hear the threads of her lace overdress ripping as she rolled and stopped once she hit the partition. Four of them climbed in with her.
"I hope you love surprises!" Joker singsonged before shutting the door.
Lying on her side, with pearls dropping from her hair from the destroyed hairdo every time she moved her head she hissed in the sudden darkness, "I hate surprises."
If she had just given them the necklace, this wouldn't have happened. If she had just given them the necklace, she would have let a muggle thief dominate her and she couldn't let that happen. She had killed Voldemort. She could deal with all of them.
That's what she told herself over the pounding of blood in her head. And then everything went dark.
BBRBW
"Alfred," Bruce breathed the man's name in relief. He had just gotten out of his armour. Most of the guests were gone, some were still giving their statements to the police. "Alfred, I'm glad you're alright," he said reaching the older man in few long strides.
Alfred was standing almost in the middle of the hall, in the perfect spot from where he could see the place where Batman and Joker fought, the broken window through which Rachel had fallen and Bruce had followed her, the side of the table against which Bellatrix had pressed up and the dead clown that Joker had laid at her feet, the path as he had dragged her with him, the elevator where she disappeared and never reappeared. "Master Bruce," he forced a smile.
"Alfred, are you okay?" Bruce asked, concerned. "Where's Bella? Was someone else hurt?" he looked around as if he expected the answers to pop up out of thin air.
"He took Miss Rosier," there was no easier or gentler way of saying it.
"What do you mean?" oh, he knew perfectly well what was implied and said, but he didn't want to believe it. If he believed it, he would have to believe that he had failed. He would have to think about how he could have been faster, spent less time with Rachel, how he should have known, how he just hadn't been there when he'd been needed.
He'd have to think why Bellatrix hadn't returned yet. She was magical, she frequently told him that she was a good fighter too, so the only conceivable explanation was... He looked at Alfred, eyes wide, desperate for some hope. Alfred had none to give.
"No, no," Bruce shook his head. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," he looked around, desperately, hoping to suddenly see her somewhere, hoping against hope that she was okay, that she was here.
For a few moments nothing happened, and then he heard the slow hiss of opening elevator doors. He looked that way almost relieved, but it was Rachel who stepped out, catching his gaze, heading his way.
"Bruce, I have to talk to you. It's about Bellatrix," her tone was crisp, worried and her expression was tight. It had hit her like a ton of bricks, the memory of what had happened more than ten years ago.
He almost ran to her. "Do you know where she is?"
"No," Rachel replied, confused. "Of course not."
Tension ran out of his whole body to the point he almost collapsed. "Then what is it?"
"Bruce are you okay?" she asked concerned. "Maybe you need to sit down?"
"No, I'm not okay" he replied honestly. "And I can stand."
Rachel bit her lip, unsure how to start. For Bruce's sake she wanted to break the news to him gently but didn't really know how. How can you tell someone that they've got a viper nestled against their chest? "What do you know about Bellatrix?"
"Everything," he didn't hesitate with his reply.
Rachel chuckled, despite herself, despite the situation. "Nobody knows everything about another human being." Not that Rachel was sure that Bellatrix was all that human. What the other woman had done was inhuman, and not just because it was supposedly impossible.
Bruce just looked at her. His eyes were tired as if he were a million years old.
Rachel hesitated for a moment. "There is something about Bellatrix that you do not know."
"What is it?" there was absolutely no interest in his tone.
"She... She can do things," Rachel said empathically. "She did something to me."
Bruce frowned. "Well, then. What did she do?"
"She did something to my head. She made me forget. I thought I'd never seen her before, but then later tonight after the fall I remembered that I had. When we were still kids. Around sixteen, I think. I saw her then – at your house and then I forgot. She made me forget."
"Memories are tricky, Rachel. Are you sure..."?
"I'm absolutely sure, Bruce!" Rachel protested indignantly! "I'm not sure what she did, but she did that to me! I've no doubt about it!"
Bruce was silent for a moment. "Okay..."
Rachel waited for a moment more. When nothing was forthcoming, she almost blew up, "Okay?! And that's it? She violated my mind!" Rachel could continue with a string of offenses attachable to that statement, but she kept to the main point.
"What do you want me to do about it?" he didn't mean to snap, but he was worried and his patience was wearing thin, and he didn't want to deal with this now, now none of that mattered. Rachel couldn't have chosen a worse moment to confront him about this if she had tried.
Rachel was stumped for a moment. She couldn't very well reply 'I want you to forget all about her too'. It sounded too petty and selfish already in the privacy of her own mind. It's not that she couldn't decide between Bruce and Harvey and wanted them both. It wasn't. Not all of it. Bruce, despite everything, was her friend. She didn't want him to get hurt. "I don't know. I just thought you should know."
"I know now."
She pressed her lips tightly together, and then moved in closer, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What will you do now?"
He looked at her as if he didn't know her, much less understand. "I'll find her."
She didn't even ask if Bellatrix knew about him being Batman. "And then what?"
He narrowed his gaze. "What – what then?"
She shrugged. "What will you do then?" she repeated her question. She meant to imply that she'd be there for him when he'd tear all his ties with Bellatrix. She meant to imply that despite what had happened to her the witch didn't scare her, at least, not away from Bruce.
He exhaled, heavily. "I'm not... It's not...," he took a moment to find the right words. "What she did is wrong, I won't, and I can't justify it. In her own mind, she probably had her reasons. I may ask her someday about it, but... Nothing. I'll do nothing."
What the hell did Rachel want him to do? Extract empty promises from Bella that she would never do that again? Not speak to her for a week and sulk? If he'd known what she did, he'd have tried to get her to reverse it – but he hadn't, and he'll watch out for it in the future. But at the moment everything else but finding Bella was secondary.
Rachel withdrew her hand as if burned. "But Bruce!" Then she moved closer again. "Bruce, I'm your friend. She hurt me," they were so close she felt that if he wanted to comfort her – he would kiss her. Her lips were parted, she quickly swiped her bottom lip with her tongue to wet it.
It was Rachel's pleading tone that did him in. Bruce saw none of the flirtation.
"I love her. She is missing," the words rushed out without him thinking, but somehow the admission didn't surprise him, he continued almost without a pause, "and you said it yourself - that thing happened years ago."
"You love her?" Rachel was both hurt and angry, she wasn't sure which more. "She can just do whatever she wants, and you'll forgive her? What if she sets fire to Gotham? What if she kills people? You said you'd protect Gotham. Would you throw it all away for her?! She just might be the biggest monster out there!" she spun on her heel and left, leaving all the accusations hanging heavily in the air.
Bruce closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to give voice to his answer.