Swatting at the heavy ringlets that framed her face, she snapped at Dursley. "Just what are you playing at? How can you just treat a wizard-" She ignored the scandalized gasp of the horse-faced woman and pressed on. "Like this! With such disrespect. You, a filthy little muggle, dare scorn little Harry Potter? Release him at once!"
Spluttering in fury, Vernon snarled. "Don't tell me what to do; you are one of those freaks. All of you-" His rant was abruptly cut off as the young lady lost her patience and leveled her dreaded wooden stick at him and whispered, softly, dangerously. "Release him, now. You are unfit to care for the boy." Her voice never increased in its volume, keeping the same lady-like characteristic, but the murderous gleam in her eyes made Petunia's hands shake as she rushed over to the cupboard and flung the door open dragging the poor boy out and all but threw him to her, sacrificing what was left of her sister without a second thought.
"Go! Take him. We never wanted him anyway." She shrieked angrily,
Smiling sweetly, she lifted the young boy and walked to the door, throwing one last repartee at them.
"When Dumbledore comes calling, tell him that it was Bellatrix Black."
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB
Harry, he was not ashamed to admit, was dead afraid of the woman, girl, holding him. No one he had seen had ever frightened Uncle Vernon, and he was a little afraid of someone who did. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, quietly.
"Who are you?"
Looking oddly at him, she rolled her eyes before repeating herself. "Bellatrix Black. Do pay more attention to things around you."
Cringing at the reprimand, Harry withdrew into himself, wondering what he had gotten himself into. Bellatrix evidently saw it, and sighed, her face softening slightly and she said in a gentler voice.
"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you. Just remember, you need to be able to know you surroundings well, in order to defend yourself, okay?"
Her soothing voice calmed him, and he relaxed. She looked oddly familiar, though he was sure he had never seen anyone so pretty before.
"Where are we going?" As ever, it was a child's nature to have to know where they were going. She wondered what on earth she was getting herself into, to go into this. Sighing for the umpteenth time, she patiently explained. "You'll see."
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB
The strange girl had held on to him tightly, and retrieved a thin, wooden stick from her pocket. She waved it around, muttered some weird jumble, and then poof! He was squeezed in this small little tube and he couldn't breathe, and suddenly, they were in front of an odd neighbourhood.
Having grown up most his life in Privet Drive, he had grown used to seeing the neat little houses, uniform in colour and design, with everything orderly and height, and everything was so dark and mysterious. Squinting at the signs, he was shocked. In Privet Drive, things were always in numerical order, but it wasn't here! It was eleven on the left, then thirteen on his right. Where had twelve gone to? As though she heard his question, she thrust to him a piece of paper and grumbled. "Read it."
There were alphabets on the white paper, and he struggled to make sense of them; he wasn't very good yet. Impatiently, the pretty girl glared at him, and he could feel blood rushing to his face; it wasn't his fault that he couldn't read properly yet. Even Dudley, whom his aunt tried desperately to teach, couldn't recognize some letters. Finally though, he had managed to scan through the funny name.
In that instant, eleven and thirteen began to creek, and their windows rattled. He was very alarmed; couldn't they feel their building shifting? The next thing took his mind off it though. A building, tall, dark and imposing had appeared, between the two, and he cowered.
"Welcome," Bellatrix said dryly. "To Twelve Grimmauld Place."