A/N - Woo! Chapter 7 up. And only two or three more to go (depending on how much dialogue the characters demand)I THINK. Anyway lots of action in this one near the end, and an interesting twist. Do you like it? Please review and let me know.

Disclaimer - Harry Potter not mine

And the spell broke

Slowly Bellatrix regained consciousness. Her head ached abominably, and the pain might have been worse, but someone had placed a cool flannel over her brow. Cautiously she sat up and took in her surroundings. She was lying on an elegant and somewhat uncomfortable green sofa, in a room of polished dark wood and bookshelves, with a fire gently smouldering in its grate. Malfoy Manor then. Slowly she managed to stand herself up, and wobbled, reaching out to grasp the sofa with her hand as the blood rushed to her head.

"You should probably stay lying down," a voice observed. Glancing up she saw her nephew, Draco, sitting comfortably on a chair with a book balanced on his knee. He didn't look at her but instead perused the page. "The Dark Lord said you tried a spell that was way too advanced for even you." Carefully he marked his page with a black silk ribbon, then shut the volume and regarded her curiously. "What did you try to do, Aunt?" She reached up and peeled the flannel off her forehead, and tried to think. She'd tried to attack Harry so that she could tear the darkness out of her. Or was it the opposite? Had she protected him from something? What had happened?

"I think I'm still a bit woozy," she muttered, sitting down again on the sofa. Draco waved his fingers and a tumbler of whisky and ice appeared in his other hand. He stood up and walked over to her sofa, settling himself beside her.

"This might be good for you," he offered. She gulped it down gratefully. As the burn slid down her throat her memories slunk back to her. She leant back with her eyes closed as the horror of what the Dark Lord had done washed through her. He's controlling me! She toyed subconsciously with her wand. Was it just against Harry? Or was she completely shackled?

"My son," she whispered. "Harry. Can you, can you send him to me please?" Draco sighed.

"You mean get up and go and fetch him? Enter his room and risk catching some dreadful disease that lurks in piles of unwashed underwear?" He caught her expression of hurt and stood up. "Of course I will, Aunt. Please stay sitting down, though. You still look very ill." She nodded, feeling stifled by his presence, and didn't breathe easily until he had walked gracefully out of the library. Strange how he could possess such a languid beauty, her nephew, whilst her own son, no, whilst Potter was always such a damn klutz.

Once Draco had left Bellatrix was able to think more clearly. One thing stood out above all others. The sooner her mind was clean again the better.

"My name is Bellatrix Black," she said aloud to the library, and was upset at how the words felt neither true nor false. "My name is Bellatrix Lestrange," she tried. The books regarded her impassively, as she shivered uneasily. Neither sounded right. It didn't matter which side went, what had to give; she could not stand this damned middleness.

"I am neither and both," she told the still air, and the misery and confusion rolled together into a heavy ball inside her chest. She couldn't kill Harry, she knew that. It wasn't merely the Dark Lord's spell… there was a barrier within herself now which said NO whenever she pursued that thought. Half of her wanted to kill him so that she could return to Bellatrix Lestrange, and half of her wanted to die for him. It's all his fault, she told herself, and was surprised to find that both halves agreed. Life would be easier without him, both sides whispered.

"I can't stand this wretched longing any more!" Bellatrix Black cried in anguish. It was so terrible, to want him, to want to love him and yet know that it was only an illusion. To know that it wasn't the real or the right way. To know that there was always a chance that he would wake up and stare at her with the hatred that had been in his eyes when he had woken from his nightmare so many nights ago. He's trying to fight it, she realised, in a sudden shock which swept across her mind. Harry was fighting to escape this spell, to remember his old life. The rest of the world could continue complacently accepting a few twisted facts but she and Harry had lost their whole lives, had been jammed into new shoes and, finding that they didn't fit, had started to wonder why.

And that was interesting.

Bellatrix smiled tightly as the first germs of an idea occurred to her. It was still in the embryonic stage: a first step and a desired outcome, but already the route was mapping itself out. And both sides of her agreed. Very carefully, very slowly, she stood up.

"My name is Bellatrix. I was deceived by the Dark Lord. I have been violated by him. I will have my revenge." The books gave silent agreement as the truth rolled around them, the dying echoes disturbing the dust.

A knock at the door recalled Bellatrix to herself, and she sat down on the sofa, leaning back and closing her eyes, determined to present an unthreatening figure.

"Come in." The door creaked and then there came a heavy tread, so unlike Draco's glide. The chair, where Draco had sat opposite to the sofa, creaked. Warily she opened her eyes and took in Harry, seated there.

He was pale, sadness stamped in the purple bags which hung under his eyes. The colours over his face horrified her; the brilliant green of those angry eyes, his lips which stood out pinkly against the frighteningly white skin, the purple blotches.

"You don't look well," she observed. His hands gripped the arms of the chair, slender knuckles standing out with their veil of blue veins sliding over them.

"Who are you?" Bellatrix smiled at the sound of his voice. It made her feel… in control again. A delicious feeling, like she was wearing a silk dress. She swung herself around, lying on her side on the sofa, supporting her chin on her hand, her legs stretching out behind her.

"My name is Bellatrix," she purred. He frowned.

"No. You are not my mother" She showed her teeth.

"Correct. But I am Bellatrix. Why else do you think the Dark Lord has let me live?" Beautiful perplexity clouded his face and it sent luxurious shivers through Bellatrix. She had her claws in him; she just needed to draw him in. He's hurting, Bellatrix Black whispered. Do you want him to know the truth or not? Bellatrix Lestrange demanded. He's not happy as Harry Black. We will set him free.

"I don't know what you did to Voldemort," Harry said deliberately. "But you can not fool me. You are not my mother."

"As I said before, you are correct," Bellatrix said, picking her words with exquisite enjoyment. "However, I will reiterate, I am Bellatrix. Work it out child." Again the confusion, and then a haunted look crept into those mistrustful eyes.

"You are clearly a liar. You are trying to tell me that Bellatrix is not my mother." She applauded slowly and mockingly.

"Trying and failing, it seems. Must I spell it out for you? I, Bellatrix, am not your mother, and if you really do believe that then you are a fool." His eyes darkened with anger.

"I am not!"

"Then tell me your name, child, and I shall give you my true one," she mocked.

"My name is Harry James Black!" he snapped.

"And I am Bellatrix Lestrange!" He opened and shut his mouth like a goldfish, confused. "Harry James Black. James, James," she jeered. "Who was James? Tell me James' name!"

"James Alexander Potter!" He'd answered before he knew it, and stared in shock at the words as they dissolved in the air between them.

"You know his full name," Bellatrix said softly. "How do you know the full name of a complete stranger, boy?"

"I..." he faltered, confused.

"What did he look like?" she pressed.

"Black hair, glasses, blue eyes," he answered slowly. The fear burned deeper in his eyes. "How do I know that?"

"Next question," Bellatrix laughed. "Lily Potter. His wife. Hair colour?"

"Red."

"Eyes?"

"Green." He answered automatically, looking astonished at the information stored within his mind.

"How did she die?" The words shimmered in the air between them, a silvery thread back to the past he didn't know he had.

"Voldemort killed her," Harry whispered. "He killed her. There was green light and, and, why does my head ache so much?" The last words were shouted, and he buried his face in his hands, tears leaking from his eyes. Bellatrix Lestrange regarded him coolly, but Bellatrix Black compelled her to stand and walk over to him. She reached out a gentle hand and lifted his face, blotchy with anger and pain, to meet hers. He stared at her with a complete lack of barriers, mesmerised by this woman who could read his mind better than he could. His forehead was hot under her fingertips, as if he had a fever, his tears warm and wet. Tenderly she traced the elegant scar with the index finger of her left hand, feeling him wince at her touch. His eyes strayed down her wrist to the Dark Mark, squatting like some cancerous stain on her slender wrist.

"Did you never wonder why he didn't take you as his own?" she whispered. "Did you ever notice the slight? Draco bears the mark, and you don't. But he knew. The Dark Lord knew you could not stand it. He knew that the very touch of it would show you how wrong it was, that it would burn the truth back into you." Harry reached out a trembling hand and touched her Mark, whipping the hand away again as the skull burned angrily against his fingers. "Do you want to know the truth?" Bellatrix asked. "I think you have to want it, you know. To break the web of lies. He had to have a way to get people out." Harry's eyes were afraid.

"Yes. I want to know." She snorted.

"Liar. The very thought terrifies you."

"Then I need to know," he hissed. She held his gaze and smiled.

"That'll do." Lifting her hand to his forehead she concentrated, splaying her fingertips over the sweaty surface. I don't want to hurt him. I want to help him. There was no pain: Voldemort's chains were not activated.

"Remember, Harry Potter," Bellatrix whispered, the words resonating with her power.

And the spell broke.

Harry Potter moved away from her very carefully, his face closed, his eyes deeply suspicious. She stepped back and resumed her position on the sofa. It was strange, this kindred spirit she felt with him. Apart from the Dark Lord, they were the only two who knew the truth now. Harry leant forwards, like a co-conspirator.

"It strikes me, Bellatrix, that we have both been deeply wronged," he murmured. She showed her teeth in ready reply.

"Can you see why? Do you know?" His face remained inscrutable.

"I am a Horcrux, am I not? If you truly wish to revenge yourself on Voldemort then you should kill me."

"But I cannot!" Bellatrix screamed in anger and frustration. Her words echoed around the library and she lowered her voice anxiously. "He bound me to you, and much as I'd like to tear you apart, I can't." Harry tilted his head.

"Then we should work together to take a revenge, perhaps?" She seized on his words.

"Yes! Although…" she regarded him from under her sly eyelashes. "The Dark Lord needs you alive. If you were not he would be greatly… weakened." A serpentine smile flickered over Harry's face.

"How true. A plausible way out, Bella. Destroy myself and enjoy the knowledge that I am weakening Voldemort."

"Think," she urged. "We could destroy the other Horcruxes together! My power and your knowledge of the Dark Lord and his mind, combined."

"And then I'd die and you finish him off," Harry concurred. "Oh I like that, Lady Lestrange."

"You do?" she asked a little nonplussed. Inside she laughed. It was so easy! She wouldn't have to kill him at all; merely lead him to kill himself. Yet Harry's eyes were dark.

"But of course, you do know that when I die you too will?" Bellatrix started.

"How do you know that?" she asked, as the memory of Voldemort's words flooded back to her. He shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe it is part of the spell. I know its provisions. How would you destroy Voldemort if both you and I were dead?" Bellatrix ground her teeth in frustration, but the pain in her chest, the division was so great that perhaps…

"I don't care!" she snarled, suddenly furious. "I'll die, if it'll release me from this halfness!"

The rattle of the library door interrupted them, and they both looked up to see Narcissa Malfoy walking towards them.

"Bella! Draco said you had woken!" she cried, holding her hands out to her sister. Bellatrix smiled in reply.

"We'll discuss plans in the near future," she hissed to Harry out of the corner of her mouth. He leant forward.

"There is nothing more to discuss." She frowned a little. His voice was strangely hard, but when he spoke his next words it was unbearably sad. "As for Bellatrix Black. If you are still in there then I apologise. I truly do."

He stood up and left Bellatrix and her sister. She stared at his retreating back with suspicion, but dismissed his words readily enough. He was just another weak good person after all.

Bellatrix accepted an invitation to spend the night at Malfoy Manor, but was woken abruptly from her sleep by a sudden knocking at the door.

"Lumos!" she hissed. The door crashed open and she drew herself up angrily. "Who dares come here?" She quailed and her heart curled into a ball as Rudolphus entered the room, his face lit up by the pulsating glow of his wand, followed by Yaxley, Snape, Lucius Malfoy. No…

"Bellatrix Black," Rudolphus began, his familiar voice cold and detached. "You are hereby charged with treachery and sedition. I arrest you in the name of the Dark Lord."

"No! NO!" She didn't have the wits to fight them off, but dropped her wand in the horror of it all. They grasped her under her arms, averting their eyes from her revealing nightdress, and dragged her out of the room. In the corridor Narcissa stood, wide-eyed and frightened.

"Lucius! Lucius don't hurt her!" she screamed.

"You! Traitor! You are no sister of mine!" Bellatrix howled at her.

"I didn't know," Narcissa wept miserably. She sprang forward to try and grasp her husband's arm but he stepped away from her, and Yaxley grabbed her instead, throwing her to the floor. She huddled in a heap, the nightdress sliding off her shoulders.

"Let me go!" Bellatrix screamed. "Let me go! LET ME GO!" They ignored her hysterical shouts, and tightened their grips, dragging her towards her fate. "No! Please, let me go!"