The Song: Waterloo, by Abba
The Song: Waterloo, by Abba
The Characters: Bellatrix Lestrange, Molly Weasley
The Inspiration: Finally facin' my Waterloo!
The Rating: T
The Disclaimer: Little swearing, be warned. The title of this piece is for of one of my best friends- she is nothing like Bellatrix, by the way.
…
queen of spades
Shooting a spell at the stupid baby-machine (oh, how she had wanted babies), Bellatrix Lestrange begins to laugh.
The rush of adrenaline is such a drug, and she's sky-high (she's invincible, the bitch can't touch her!). The heat of the spells don't touch her- her lips are cracked and bleeding, and her mouth yields no saliva.
She doesn't care.
When her master is king of the world, and bad blood is killed, her search for perfection will be achieved. And perhaps she will get to kiss the non-existent lips. His darkness is so beautiful.
And this… This… red-haired blood traitor would be dead. Bellatrix rough lips part, and her laughter soars to the high arched ceilings of Hogwarts. The sound is humorless, and it screams of fallen glory- blood staining the ancient tapestry.
Then it comes. The spell, crackling with energy soars under her arm. It hits her, and the laughter is cut short.
Barely alive, the last thing Bellatrix sees in her arch to the ground is the queen of hearts, standing triumphantly over the queen of spades.
She is defeated.