Disclaimer: Belongs to JK Rowling. I own nada.
AN: I don't know if this has been done before, but it probably has. Never the less, I hope you enjoy.
Bellatrix Lestrange
Bellatrix ran down the hallway, skipping and letting off that wicked cackling laugh. The others were slowly walking behind her.
"Come on boys!" She yelled behind her, looking back at the group. Greyback and Dolohov looked happy, but not as happy as her. Draco looked terrified, and Snape walked next to him, no emotion on his face. Snape should have been happier than Bellatrix, he'd just killed Dumbledore!
Bellatrix continued on ahead, singing and giggling.
She made a slight detour to Dumbledore's office, hoping to take anything of value. Or she would at least trash the place like she had done to the great hall earlier.
She tore through the room, knocking over shelves and smashing anything delicate.
Then there was a closet.
It was small, but lead to another room. The room was large enough to only hold one thing: a mirror.
But the mirror was wrong. That wasn't what she looked like, she looked younger, and beautiful. And there was a man next to her.
"My lord." She whispered. His robes were dark as night, and his face pale. Voldemort smiled, looking at the strange woman that resembled Bellatrix. He seemed to be congratulating her, and they were triumphant over something. She imagined Potter in the background, his cold, lifeless body mangled and stiff.
She couldn't help but grin. It was perfect.
But it wasn't right. That's not how things were.
Well, maybe thats how things would be now. Her heart filled with hope. Voldemort would be greatly pleased with their acomplishment of killing Dumbledore, and they were close to finishing off Potter.
A greater smile cracked across her face and she left the room, bounding out of the office while laughing manically.
AN: You can review if you'd like and recommend who I should do next. I know Bellatrix is an odd character to start out with, but I really wanted to write hers.