Chapter 8:
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"For Morgana's sake Harry! It's been five days already and you promised we'd get a pensieve!"
"I didn't say anything! You were just screaming like a banshee about getting the damned thing!"
They were standing in an abandoned classroom in the dungeons into which Bella had dragged Harry just moments ago. They had returned from an escapade in search of any unknown secret passage they could use as an escape route if ever they were discovered when he had been unceremoniously shoved inside.
"Don't be a dimwit! You agreed by staying silent."
Harry rubbed his brow in exasperation. Her eyes were flashing with evil intent and a light tinge of red had reached her cheeks, giving her a wild and dangerous appearance.
"Look Bella-" He was about to launch into a grand monologue about pigheadedness when they heard a gasp behind the door.
Spinning around they rushed into the hallway, eyes darting around frantically. At the end of the hallway, a blond haired student was running for all she was worth, her breath coming in frantic gasps.
It wasn't fast enough.
A dark look crossed Harry's face and he clenched his fist. The ring depicting a grim glowed bright green and a ball of absolute darkness appeared in front of his hand. Without a second thought, he spun on himself and threw it after the panicking student.
It zipped through the air with a deadly hum and hit her back lightly, hooking onto the cloak.
Giving him an incredulous look, Bella raised her wand and opened her mouth. But the words died prematurely and her jaw fell open. The ball of darkness had grown tentacles that were now hovering around the poor teenage girl. She stopped when she saw them and opened her mouth to scream. She didn't even stand a chance.
The tainted tentacles slammed into her ears, nostrils and wide open mouth, sliding deep into her body like an insidious poison. Her horrible scream was muffled as her whole body jerked like a marionette without strings. She trembled so violently Bella thought she would surely break a bone, but it had hardly begun than it was already over.
The tentacles retreated and the girl fell to the floor, lifeless, her eyes full of horror and terror.
Both pseudo-teachers ran up to her, one with a cold smirk, the other an intrigued and wide eyed expression. They knelt down with perfect synchronization, two deadly components of a terrible ballet. Sparing a grin for each other, they turned her over and both their smiles faltered.
"Well..I didn't expect that."
"A pureblood too.." Said Bella unhappily, crossing her arms and pouting. She always got techy when a pureblood died by their hands.
"Oh get over it Bella, it's not like you haven't killed your share."
"My beloved cousin was a blood traitor, dearest, and if you make another comment about the pureblood ideology, I swear by Morgana you won't be sleeping in my bed for a month."
He flinched. Harsh. Smoothing out his irritation he gave her a brilliant smile and an ornate bow. "As milady wishes...Now about the corpse.."
"The Greengrasses will look for her."
"We'll have to make sure to hide any traces then."
"The Slytherins won't be happy."
"That's a given."
"Dumbledore will investigate."
"Stop being pessimistic, what is with you today, is it that time of the month or what?" Snapped Harry.
She gave him a pointed look and he blushed, nodding quickly and averting his gaze.
"Ah, yes...well..I'll deal with little Astoria here. I think I might even have a plan for getting a pensieve."
She stepped up closer to him and grabbed him roughly by the collar, pulling him into a heated kiss, her tongue flicking lightly against his lips. It lasted for quite a while and when they broke apart both were red faced and out of breath.
She pulled his head down to her level so they were eye to eye and raised an eyebrow.
"Get it in two days, and I might even forgive you for your astonishing lack of manners earlier." The suggestive wink that followed was all he needed, to know what she meant by 'forgive'.
"Worry not, Bella."
Dumbledore looked around the great hall with a smile on his lips. Here sat the future of the wizarding world, a bright, fresh future devoid of Tom and his cruel minions. Yes, he was beginning to think more and more about the next great adventure. Not long ago he had thought he was ready for it. Yet once again, a threat risen its ugly head. Death would have to wait.
To say that Dumbledore had been stunned when he understood what Harry had become was an understatement. He had been shocked, flabbergasted, horrified. He could not even begin to imagine why the Necromancer was still alive when he should have died years ago.
He should have listened to those extremists, the religious group from Rome. They had wanted him immediately executed. Another mistake to add to his repertoire, he thought sadly.
His fork clattered onto the plate and he pushed his half consumed eggs away, his appetite gone. How he regretted sending Harry to Azkaban now. He should have reasoned with him. He had been so convinced it was the best choice, for the greater good. He had only spawned a threat even worse the previous one.
Dumbledore felt utterly depressed, the buzz of conversation fading away into the background as he stared moodily forward, trying to fathom a worst start to the day.
Of course, fate provided that with the Daily Prophet.
The gasps of shock and abrupt ending to many conversations pulled Dumbledore out of his brooding. He picked up his own newspaper and slumped even further into the chair at the sight of the big black headlines.
"Dolores Umbridge, Undersecretary, Murdered!"
Not Harry again, it couldn't be. He had entertained a faint hope that Harry was locked somewhere deep in his psyche, possessed by the evil mans spirit. Yet his hopes were now shattered, for why would the Necromancer go after her? As twisted as she might be he held no quarrel with that witch, she was born after his entry in Azkaban.
Only Harry would bear any hate against her. Dumbledore felt closer to tears than he had for years. What had he done? He had taken a boy torn apart by loss, and hurt him even more.
What had he done?
Despair wrapped itself around him like a familiar cloak, a cloak he had worn for many years, hidden deep under layers of false joy and kindness. It hit him like a sledgehammer. They had lost many terribly powerful wizards when the Necromancer last fell...Would they succeed in subduing again? How many would die to stop his own creation?
At the nearby Gryffindor table, a group of seventh year students were reading the newspaper with horrified looks on their faces. Hermione held her hands in front of her mouth, muffling the sobs that threatened to escape her. Ron looked pale the further he read, and turned a sickly shade of green at the end.
They all looked at each other. No words were traded but the message was clear. What happened to their Harry?
"Dolores Umbridge, Undersecretary, Murdered!"
By Penelope Clearwater
Dolores Umbridge, while shrouded in mystery and toting a nasty reputation was said to be a hard worker when the times called for it. (Though few will mourn her death.) For yes, it was her body that was found in her summer residence but a day ago.
Yours truly was present at the scene shortly after her maid discovered the corpse and saw the original crime scene. Pinned like a bug in a glass case, the Undersecretary was stuck to a cross, crucified most gruesomely in her own entrance hall.
But that is not all! No, for she showed signs of extreme torture all over her body, ranging from overexposure to the cruciatus curse to dozens of broken bones.
Perhaps most terrifying of all is that the medi-analysts are unable to ascertain the cause of death. Resembling the Avada Kedavra effect, they say they have never seen such a case before.
To turn this horrifying crime even worse, the Medi-Wizards positively identified traces of blood near the debris of an explosion (Assumed to be a ward malfunction) as that of Bellatrix Black, known associate of Harry Potter, the boy-who-murdered.
Have we killed one Dark Lord, only to replace him by another? How many more will die before the Ministry is able to stop this new twin-threat? The Daily Prophet will make it your duty to keep your informed, even if the ministry fails to.
Bellatrix was doing one of the most boring things in the wizarding world. Correcting essays. If she had the possibility, she would already have crucio'd a dozen muggles, but as it was she had to reign in her frustration and contented herself with moaning in frustration.
Her eyes roved over the spidery writing of a fifth year again, marveling as his stupidity. It was a well known fact that the Patronus Charm didn't pull it's source from anger. Where did he even get that information? Her quill snapped in her fingers and she was seriously contemplating leaving the ground and hunting some mudbloods down when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her shoulders.
She leaned back into his grasp for a moment, enjoying the tickle of his lips as they breezed up her neck to her ear.
"Shh now...Relaax.."
"Mm..I need to do this for tomorrow." She said, her lip sticking out in a pronounced pout.
"Even if I said that Dumbledore was out of the school for two days, and he has a pensieve?"
She was out of her chair before he could even move his arms away, the essays scattering everywhere, some even finding their way into the glowing embers in the hearth, incinerating the unfortunate students hours of sweat and toil in moments.
Bellatrix dragged Harry out of their rooms and rushed through Hogwarts, a huge grin on her face.
She was finally going to find out more about her mysterious lover and friend. She had seen enough of him to know he was sure to have a very dark and interesting story. Of course, chances were she would enjoy the whole thing immensely.
When they reached the headmasters corridor, Harry pulled her into a small room and closed his eyes, focusing for a moment before exploding into a ball of black fire. They landed in his office and Harry gasped in pain, clutching his stomach and keeling over.
His companion quickly transfigured the ex headmasters and headmistress portraits into planks of wood and kneeled by him, her hands brushing against his shoulder lightly as she hovered around him like a worried mother.
"M'fine Bella.."
"Yes well, you never know. I don't want those memories damaged." She huffed.
It had become a recurring joke between them for her to deny any affection she held for him by finding any and all excuses, ranging from ludicrous to logical. It relieved Bellatrix that Harry was not against such a thing. She loved spending time with him and making love to him at every chance she got, but to say she was ready for a serious relationship for the first time in her life would be a lie. She wasn't even sure she was looking for that. Though she doubted it more as every day went by.
"Finally…" She breathed, eyeing the pensieve hungrily as Harry set it on Dumbledore's desk. She slunk up behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder, missing the rather tense look on his face. Her hands massaged his solid stomach slowly and he closed his eyes, savoring her touch. "I get to find out a bit more about my mystery man hidden in this glorious body…"
He nodded once and patted her wand with one finger, focusing on his memories and closed his eyes, visualizing everything he thought would be relevant. He trusted Bella more than anyone, if somebody had to bear his secrets, she would be his choice.
Lifting her wand she prodded his brow and pulled out a silvery string from it, eliciting a shiver of revulsion from him. He still hated feeling magic used on him, despite having entered the body of a wizard.
Bella dropped the memories into the pool of silvery liquid after making sure to charm them for self destruct in a few hours.
"Well...Here goes nothing." He muttered, grabbing her hand and plunging in, disappearing into a swirling abyss of shadow.
Soon nothing was heard in the headmasters office apart from a few clicks from his bizarre instruments.
Bellatrix stood next to Harry in the darkness, her eyes wide as she panted in excitement. She loved discovering and holding secrets! Though she wasn't very good at it.
Harry was stock still and looked uneasy to her. She was about to wrap her arms around him tightly when there was a swirl of color and they stood in a richly decorated wooden room with an ancient looking hearth and old-fashioned tapestries on the wall.
In the middle of the room stood a stocky man with sharp features and burning green eyes. He had a mop of dark hair and bore a sadistic grin on his face. Azor looked rather dashing, thought Bella.
Lezur towered over Azor, his arms crossed over his barrel-like chest. 'So you see Azor, all ye' need to do is focus, focus hard and it'll work.' Bella turned in surprise and eyed the small being standing before her critically. He looked well fed but thin, almost fragile with cute features she might have found adorable if she didn't hate children so.
'I even got ye' a test subject boy, you better not disappoint me.'
He snapped his fingers and a stunning woman was thrown into the room by a burly man who instantly left once his duty was done. For a moment Bella thought she was looking into a mirror, for the resemblance between the two of them was striking. Though this memory lady had larger curves, thought Bella jealously. She turned towards Harry, intending to ask him a question but stopped when she saw his face. It was locked in an ice cold mask, hiding everything from her, which was quite an achievement.
The next words made her blood run cold. 'M-Mother?' Said Azor hesitantly, his eyes darting between Lezur and his mother.
'Husband! What is the meaning of this?' She snapped, her violet eyes flashing in anger. She lifted a rich fur cloak from her shoulders and tossed it to the side, rubbing a bruise on her arm. It was shaped like a hand, and it wasn't very hard to guess where it came from.
Lezur smiled maniacally, his eyes starting to glow the sickly color Bella knew so well.
'You're gonna use yer powers on Lativa, Azor, or I will.'
'I-I can't!' Cried the five year old, his eyes huge. His mother seemed to realize what was happening and paled dramatically. She hurried over to her son's side and slipped her arms around his shoulder, glaring daggers at her husband.
'Are you mad, Lezur?' She yelled.
'Shut up!' He turned to Azor. 'Do it or I'll do it meself! A necromancer shouldn't feel love, it needs to be cut at the root.'
Azor looked up at Lativa with teary eyes, his whole body trembling as he grabbed her silky dress in his hands, pressing himself against her, savoring her warmth and smell.
'Mother..?'
She kneeled down next to him and gazed into his beautiful eyes with her sad ones. She trailed a pale, delicate finger down his cheek and nodded slowly, kissing his brow and whispering. 'Do it, my love. I will not have my life taken by him.'
With tears running down his cheeks, Azor clenched his eyes shut and touched her forehead.
'Mother...' He whispered, the desperate plea of a child lost in a world he did not yet understand. She pressed herself firmly against him.
'Do it..'
The memory faded away from view and Bella turned to Harry. Had it been any other person she would not have cared. Hell, she had done worse things before. But this was her Harry, her lover and it brought tears to her eyes to think of the pain he had gone through.
Yet he had hardly moved during the whole scene, his eyes fixed ahead of him emptily. He was forcing down the roiling well of emotions into the deepest abyss of his mind, trying to restrain himself from lashing out against the one person he cared for in fury. It had been years, decades since he had thought about his childhood, he had locked up the torn mindscape he called his early life far out of conscious reach. He wasn't going to let it all out now.
Suddenly he felt a warm hand slip into his. He snapped out of his meditation and smiled weakly at her, squeezing her fingers lightly as the memory shifted once more…
'Make sure to keep the subject alive, it is imperative to study the inner workings of the human body.' The crazed looking man with red rimmed eyes and greasy skin stared down at the table grinning. His eyes would occasionally flick to the man standing next to him with a sharp scalpel in his hands. In stark contrast to his companion the adolescent was tastefully dressed and studious looking.
The teenager nodded shortly and stepped up to the table, his eyes seeming to glow in the dim room like two hellish lamps. He knelt down and checked the straps that kept their struggling experiment on the table.
'Please...' whimpered the horrified man, his limbs straining against his bonds.
'That's what they all say..' The scalpel dug into his abdomen and a terrible shriek echoed throughout the room.
Bella couldn't help but giggle this time. It was so deliciously cruel! She would never have thought of such torture methods. She was just about to compliment Azor on his creativity when there were plunged into another memory.
Azor cackled madly as peasants fled away from him, screaming in fear. His eyes were alight with his power and his hands glowed with spirit fire as he reveled in the terror of his victims. Like one of the four riders of Revelations, he rained down horrors on the unfortunate inhabitants, raising dozens of zombies to rip the hapless defenders apart.
Beneath him burned a village. Had it been day, and had Azor never cursed the hamlet with his visit, it might have been described as pretty and picturesque. Unfortunately it was now crumbling against the relentless assault of the undead and their masters wrath.
Another ball of flame flew from the Necromancers hand and exploded against a house, sending droplets of liquid fire throughout the vicinity, hitting a woman who had just seen her daughter run inside the doomed home. She fell to the ground with a heartbreaking cry of despair, her sobs shaking her body with their intensity.
A cold laugh echoed throughout the nearly empty village and she looked up hopefully. Before her stood a nightmare cloaked in black with glowing green eyes. Outlined by the fires he had set, he was truly a terrifying apparition.
'My daughter..' She moaned pathetically, scrabbling at the hem of his cloak. Azor smiled and patted her head gently, ignoring her flinch.
'You'll see her in a moment dear.' He murmured.
She gave him a watery smile of gratitude just as she felt invisible hands lift her and toss her into the burning building. Her scream ended abruptly as the flames incinerated her, ripping soul from flesh.
Cackling madly Azor walked away from the village, filled on the toughest men's vitality.
'Ah..Music to my ears..' He said in a sing-song voice as the pillars supporting the churches roof finally crumbled, taking the last survivors with them.
Bella turned towards Harry in shock. She knew he was a cruel man deep down, who cared little for anyone -You didn't become a Necromancer without such attributes- but never had she seen him act like the man in the memory. He was always so carefree and upbeat.
She thought back to their escape from Azkaban and began to look at it from a new angle. The way his eyes gleamed when he killed twenty aurors with the magical disease, the way he smiled when the dementors fell upon the guards. Perhaps he and she really weren't that different in the end.
"Pay attention to this memory, dearest. It will probably enlighten you as to why I was in Azkaban for all those years."
She nodded eagerly, clutching his arm in her vice like grip.
The scene shifted to an equally horrific tableau as the last one. Crows screamed in the air above them while the cries of the dying echoed below. Already the various carrion birds were descending upon the blood soaked field, eager to fill their gullets with the flesh of the dead and those soon to be claimed by the reaper.
All but a few of the bodies were still, covered in horrific wounds, their eyes empty, their bodies rigid. The remnants of one of the worst battles of the century. It had been a long and terrible war, but no other skirmish had taken such a heavy toll on each side. Grindelwald had fallen, but at what price?
Suddenly, a man emerged out of the rising morning mist. He was cloaked in shadows and darkness, last traces of a horror filled night loath to leave the world in the clutches of the sun. His body gave off a malevolent aura that reeked of death and corrupt power.
Slowly, he made his way across the field, stopping occasionally to kneel next to a dying man and rest a hand on his brow. A priest or peace giver perhaps? That was the question the young man asked himself as he shadowed the mysterious man. This stranger had power. Tom Riddle loved power.
Approaching the first man that was touched, his perspective of the cloaked individual changed completely. That was no priest. Before him lay a withered corpse that looked to have been dead for hundreds of years. The skin was taught and the eyes were gone, withered up and dried.
Necromancer.
The creatures of nightmares for those who followed the light, they lurked in the shadows, striking fast and disappearing before anyone could react. It made sense why one would be here. They basked in the aftermath of battles, it was a natural feeding ground for those who lived off the life force of human beings.
Like a wraith the Necromancer flitted across the field, finishing off those who still lived.
Azor was drunk with power. He had enjoyed the great war more than anything else since the first non magical world war. Twenty years was too long of a wait in between wars. He resolved to instigate more conflict throughout the world, it wouldn't do to have peace after this.
He heard someone clearing their throat behind him and rose slowly. The spirits had told him of his stalker but he had ignored him while he focused on his meal. Well, if he was willingly offering himself to a necromancer…
'Lord Necromancer?'
Azor turned around, surprise flitting across his face. He wasn't a worshipper, he would have felt it. Besides, that voice was too arrogant and calculating, perhaps an upstart Dark Lord? He had met many of them over the years when they came to ask for his help in whatever frivolous cause they supported.
'What?' He said in an almost unearthly voice. Absorbing so much vitality always had some secondary effect.
'My name is Lord Voldemort, Have you-' He was interrupted by a cold harsh bout of laughter from inside Azor's cloak.
'Another self-proclaimed Dark Lord, aspiring for greatness?' He leaned in closer to Tom Riddle until even he started to feel nervous at the persistent pressure the Necromancers aura put on his occlumency shields.
'Do not be so presumptuous as to think I would join you. Countless men like you have come to me, begging for my help. They all leave empty handed.'
Voldemort stiffened in anger and clenched his fists, a growl escaped his lips as he fought for control over his roiling emotions. No one spoke to him with that tone of voice.
'Don't speak to me like that!' His cheeks flushed slightly as he realized the petulant tone of voice he had used, but he didn't back down an inch. Despite his Slytherin ancestry, no one could call Tom Riddle a coward.
His wand slipped from its holster to his hand silently. In his search for the darkest of magics, he had fallen upon a few excerpts from a Necromancers journals. He knew their weakness.
As fast as Voldemort was, Azor was faster. With a strange wailing noise and a violent shove, Azor tossed the would-be threat across the battlefield and laughed again, shaking his head in amusement. He didn't want to kill that man -he was sure to cause some deliciously deadly battles- but some pain never hurt anyone. Well...It did. He quickly stifled a chuckle.
Riddle groaned and lifted his wand into the air. He had broken a few bones, he was sure of it. But that didn't mean he would let that scum escape. No one attacked Lord Voldemort and lived to tell the tale. A vicious smirk spread over his face.
'Ursa adere!'
The mark of Grindelwald shot up into the air with a roaring sound that spread across the field, a terrifying reminder of the great evil that had just been defeated. The burning bear stood proudly in the sky, right above Azor.
The Necromancer cursed and looked around himself quickly. There were so many more to feed from! He would deal with the wizards that were sure to come, then finish his meal. You didn't get such a feast every day.
He heard the characteristic sounds of apparation all around him and called the thousands of souls lingering around the fields to his heel, forcing them into obedience with his iron will. His eyes shone with sickly green light as tendrils of mist gathered around his feet, slowly turning the same color as his eyes.
He lowered his head, concealing all but those two hellish orbs in shadow.
'Drop your wand and get on the ground!' Bellowed a bear sized man with a huge brown beard. He and the five men next to him wore some sort of emblem on their shoulder, it was easy for Azor to deduce that they were commanders of the army.
All that show for me...He thought, a wide grin crossing his face.
'I...Have no wand my dear man.'
'You cast the Ursa Adere. Do not fool with us or we will use deadly force.' This time it was an auburn bearded man with half-moon glasses and a sad look in his clear blue eyes.
'Rrrr...Enough of this!' Roared a thin, pale man. He lifted his wand and shot a stream of black fire at Azor, who just laughed. All five men and their soldiers went silent for a moment as time seemed to slow down and the flames approached the Necromancer. Moments before impact he literally snatched the hungry tendrils of fire from the air, gathering it all into his hand where it flowed around like water.
'My turn..' He said, laughing again. He could be so corny sometimes...But ah well, it was all good fun.
He stood up straight and released his aura from within its restraints. A shadow passed over the field as it shot out from him like a tornado, ripping conscious thought from his opponents for a second. Many of the weaker minded fell to their knees, screaming in fear, fear of death.
He was cackling madly now, the sound rising to a crescendo above all the screaming. Some even began to apparate away and the rest followed after, in a mad rush. Soon only Azor and the five commanders were left.
'You fools...Did you forget your bedtime stories?' He said in an arrogant voice, cracking one finger after the other.
'Necromancer...' Breathed the blue-eyed one. They all paled slightly and tensed. The commanders of the light were too righteous to even consider leaving this Necromancer to walk free.
'Correct.' Was their only answer as three corpses exploded into action and grabbed a stunning woman before anybody could react. She fell to the ground with a horrible shriek as the monsters tore into her hungrily, ripping flesh from bone with a brutality few could imagine. Her cries died only after one of the monsters finally turned his attention to her neck.
Turning away from the grisly scene, the four others looked at him in disgust while he patiently waited for them to counter. He did not have to wait long.
Hexes and curses flew across the field towards him as the corpses around them were incinerated. Smart. He blocked their spells without effort, all the while getting closer and closer to them. He was so close that he could see the sweat on the brow of the pale who had tried to burn him earlier. His face was pulled into a snarl as he cast some of the darkest spells in existence, but each one splashed against the spirit shield without leaving a mark.
Then, with speed unbeknownst to man he darted forward and grabbed his victim by the throat. He held him between himself and his enemies and opened his shields for a fraction of a second. Long enough for a cutting curse to sail through and slice the unfortunate mans head from his shoulders. Grabbing his greasy locks of hair Azor lifted it off the body and grinned.
'Not feeling so inclined to kill me now, are you mate?' He whispered as he tossed the head towards the last three.
He spun around and unleashed a torrent of green flames from his hands, surrounding them in a wall of pale green death.
Drunk with power and full of his oversized self-esteem he turned his back on them and hummed idly, willing the walls closer and closer. He would enjoy feasting on the life force of these powerful wizards. Perhaps the ritual of absorption would be in order...
A pale grey beam shot past his shoulder and he was brutally brought back to the world with one horrific thought. Soul Magic. He spun around and lifted his hands, summoning the might of Erebus to finish them off with one blow.
He wasn't fast enough.
Another beam slammed into his chest and he fell to the ground, shrieking in pain. His power source was being forcefully shredded apart by the mighty curse. The wall of flame flicked and disappeared and it was all he could do to summon the strength to will his rings away before he succumbed to the excruciatingly painful process.
That memory faded away while the pensieve ejected Harry and Bella from it forcefully. They stood up with deep gasps. Bellatrix immediately turned towards Harry, pouting cutely, her arms crossed under her breasts like a child.
"Is that all?"
"I didn't want to relive the rest." He said with a small grimace.
She instantly switched from annoyed to caring in a way only the mentally unbalanced could. She shoved him into a chair and climbed onto his lap, her fingers trailing down his cheek gently.
"Are you alright Harry?"
"I'm fine."
He smiled slightly, half exasperated, half amused that he had pierced the formidable Bella's armor. He rested his hands on her hips and squeezed gently, he would never admit it to anyone but the memories had shaken him up badly and he didn't want anything than to curl up and forget about everything for a few blessed hours.
Bella rested her head against his shoulder, her thick mass of curls obscuring his view and tickling his nose. He snorted with laughter and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her gently. To his surprise, she reciprocated warmly, her lips depositing a trail of small kisses up his neck, making him shiver in delight. After a while she pulled up. She was beginning to enjoy these small moments of tenderness with him, but enough was enough.
"Soo…" She drawled, her fingers sliding up his chest slowly. "About that message we planned to leave for Dumbledore?"
He grumbled and nodded, gently tipping her off his lap and pulling out a small vial from his pocket. Inside was an indistinct shape wrapped in black cloth. He tossed it to Bella who caught it deftly and tapped her wand against the glass. It dissolved into thin air and allowed her to pick up the little figure inside. Another tap of her wand and it grew to its normal size.
Lying before them was the pale corpse of Astoria Greengrass.
She would have looked peaceful were it not for the tear marks around her lips, ears and her missing eyes, consequences of her meeting with Erebus magic. Bella knelt and began fussing over her, arranging her cloak and limbs to give Dumbledore a most disturbing view when he entered his office. Finally an impatient cough pulled her away from her ministrations and she rose, bouncing over to Harry's side.
She winked and pecked his lips, looking down at Astoria like a proud mother would a child.
"Oh isn't she cute like that?"
"Your cute doesn't match what most people think." Harry answered dryly.
"A tragedy." Came the sarcastic response.
They spent a few minutes admiring their handiwork, each in the others arms in a rare moment of calm. Harry smiled, since they had come to Hogwarts the time they could spend in their own company was becoming limited, especially if they wanted to speak without fear of being overheard. Hogwarts had eyes and ears everywhere.
It was ironic that one of those moments was shared in the personal living area of their greatest enemy.
Bella clung to Harry's happily, savoring the occasion. It was a chance to enjoy his proximity without showing how much she actually wanted it. She couldn't really understand why she still hid from her growing affection but she clung to that stubborn refusal none the less. Perhaps it was a remnant of her old habits or simply her desire to have him express attachment first.
He turned towards her and wrapped her in his arms. "I love you sometimes, you know."
Well, that was better than nothing, she thought wryly, suspiciously wondering if her could read her mind. She would have to look into that one day. After recovering from the warm feeling those words spread throughout her body, she debated for a few seconds before nodding and returning the hug.
His face fell fractionally but he quickly hid it. She hid her wince as well. She would tell him next time.
"I love you too.."
But he didn't hear it, he was already half way down the staircase.
AN: This chapter was really hard for me to write for some reason, but hopefully you'll all enjoy it.
So, I was told by a few people that the hitting thing with Bellatrix was a bit too much, and frankly I didn't even realize I was doing it that much but I've decided to cut that out from now on, unless it's a really extreme case. After all, Bellatrix is a violent person!
Still looking for a beta!
NOTICE: Go check out my profile to vote about what I should write after this! While I might not write the most voted option, it will give me an idea of what the readers want. :)
Go read Son Of Darkness by booklover1307 ! It's very good.
Review please!