#5 - The Tempest: Bellatrix/Nymphadora
[There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.]
"Are we really going to do this, Auntie?" Nympadora whispered, over the crashing waves below.
"Yes, child."
Everyone important to them had died. Bellatrix had lost her master, and thus she had nothing left to live for anymore. Nymphadora lost her husband in the war that Bellatrix played a part in. While they knew, outwardly, that they should hate each other, they couldn't help it. Fate brought them together. It was disgusting, foul and completely perverse. While they should have been at each other's throats; they were instead wrapped up in each other, unable to get enough of the other.
And now it had gone too far. Neither could handle the shame – this was Nymphadora's aunt; it was incest. Bellatrix could care less about her relative attachment to Nymphadora; her shame hung because Nymphadora was the daughter of her blood-traitor sister – Ted Tonks' dirty blood ran through her veins.
It had to end.
This led them to their secluded spot at the tip of Seaford Head, looking down the white cliff front, to the stormy sea of the English Channel. They had met here before to rendezvous – but this would be the last time.
Bellatrix held out her hand to her niece, and as Nymphadora took it, her features changed. Vibrant pink hair fell into a fluid, oily-black waterfall, and her cheerful, rounded face became sallow and sombre.
The earth seemed to stop as they shared one last, terribly wrong kiss. Together, they stepped off the edge of the cliff, and plummeted to their deaths in the tempestuous depths below.