DISCLAIMER: To all the moronic idiots out there, no, I'm not J.K. Rowling and thereby do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: This update is a bit faster than usual, only for my amazing reviewers! Thanks for the brilliant reviews for last chapter guys! Now let's pick up from where we left off….

Chapter 30.

Bellatrix was seated on her broom, hovering a few feet above the air. She loosely held her wooden Beater's bat in her right hand, her left hand relaxed over the handle of the broom. A few meters away from her, Sirius was sitting on his broom opposite her, in a similar stance except his left hand rather tightly gripped his broom. The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, Elladan Duke was standing below them, looking upwards, whistle in hand.

I, Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, am on a broomstick, in the Quidditch pitch of Hogwarts, fighting with my cousin for Beater position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Could this get any more unreal?

'Are the both of you ready?' Elladan's strong voice rung throughout the pitch. 'On the count of three.'

Bellatrix could see Sirius's tensed, stiff shoulders as he braced himself for the upcoming onslaught. This was as far as it got from the Sirius Black who had participated in the Gryffindor tryouts. That Sirius was assured, self-confident and practically radiating arrogance. This Sirius was also assured, not of the fact that he was going to succeed, but of the fact that it was probably going to be the toughest competition yet. He would have to practically strive to beat Bellatrix, and while Sirius was egoistic, he was definitely not an idiot. And only an idiot would be stupid enough to underestimate the force named Bellatrix Black.

Only a year ago, you would have been facing me with the same amount of arrogance and self-importance that you had at the tryouts. But not anymore. Over the past year, you may have grown to hate me more but I have also, grudgingly, earned your respect.

Bellatrix looked at Sirius in the eye. Almost automatically, Sirius straightened up and matched his cousin stare for stare. Imperceptibly, the tiny amount of tension and anxiety that was flickering in Sirius's eyes faded out, to be replaced by confidence and determination. Bellatrix's mouth tilted up into a smirk and she drew her left hand, holding the handle of the broom, further backwards but still visible to Sirius's gaze. The position of her hand shifted, as her long fingers curled up into a fist, her thumb pointed in the upward direction.

Best of luck.

For a moment, Sirius reverted back to the tryouts again as the expression on his face resembled a self-satisfied and conceited smirk. He bent his back forwards and gripped his broom with one hand, his Bat with another. However, Bellatrix did not miss the almost indiscernible nod that he gave in her direction. The meaning was clear: May the best one win.

'One…two….' The wind ruffled through Elladan's russet curls as he stared up intently at the two Black cousins floating in the air, 'And three!'

As if responding to Elladan's voice, the Bludger which had been released by Elladan a few minutes prior and till now hovering about the golden goal posts, immediately rose up and started barreling at full speed towards Sirius. Whirling his Beater's bat in his right hand, Sirius's eyes watched the Bludger warily as it travelled towards him with increasing speed. The moment the Bludger came within arm's distance, Sirius's bat smashed the Bludger sideways, sending it pulsing through the air at a dangerous speed towards Bellatrix.

Being only a few metres away from Sirius, Bellatrix had a mere ten seconds to catch up with her reflexes and deflect the Bludger. This was something that she did with an expression on her face akin to a smirk. The Bludger rushed towards Sirius at a breakneck speed, but he had had the forethought of flying backwards when the Bludger was occupying Bellatrix, with the consequence that his Beater's bat had no question of missing the target as it slashed through the air, and the Bludger flew towards Bellatrix again.

The Bludger was gaining speed with every consecutive hit, yet Bellatrix smashed it again towards Sirius. The Bludger travelled back and forth, as the eyes of the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and the rest of the team standing on the pitch, followed it intently. The Keeper, Kevin, nudged Elladan's elbow, still keeping his eyes on the match above, 'They're both awesome, aren't they?'

The light gold of Elladan's eyes flickered as he continued to watch the game, 'But we have to choose one. And this is the best way to decide.'

Meanwhile, the relentless back and forth motions of the Bludger remained persistent. To the common onlooker, it appeared as if the match was equal and neither of the two opponents were gaining any ground. But Bellatrix's sharp eyes could spot the beads of sweat that had started to gather on Sirius's brow, and the way his arms had started to lag. A drop of salty sweat ran down the side of Sirius's face, only to be brushed abruptly by the front surface of Sirius's knuckles a few moments later. Bellatrix could not stop the formation of a small smirk on her face.

Tsk tsk tsk. Poor wittle Siwius can't even hit a teeny-weeny ball.

The Bludger travelled towards Bellatrix again at its regular speed, clearly showing Sirius's fatigue and lack of energy at this point of time. Bellatrix braced herself for the kill. She summoned all of the energy she had, literally transferring it to her right arm. She could feel her very magic coursing through her veins, giving her strength which the twelve-year old Bellatrix's body could not muster by itself. She stretched her long fingers, cramped up from gripping the Bat for so long, hearing her joints pop as a result. The Bludger was now a metre away from Bellatrix, who raised her right hand as if holding a wand. The Beater's bat literally glowed with all the energy and magic being poured into it, the very air around it practically vibrating. And then, the Bludger was before her.

CRASH.

It all happened as if in slow motion. Elladan's eyes widened as Bellatrix's bat all but pounded the Bludger away from her at a speed of not less than 80 miles per hour. The Bludger smoldered, with its purple light growing strong enough to shine out as a beacon on the Pitch. And then, the glowing ball of death hurtled towards a wide-eyed Sirius with deadly accuracy. All on the pitch braced for impact.

But it was far from over. Sirius was not a pushover, or one to be underestimated. The ball of destruction was fast, but Sirius's reflexes were faster. Barely, barely, Sirius managed to swerve aside as the Bludger whipped through Sirius's robe sleeve and passed him, the very force of the passage strong enough to make him gasp.

Sirius raised his head, his raven locks falling over his eyes and a challenging smile on his face as he looked towards Bellatrix. But that smile faltered and died out. For where he had seen his cousin just a few moments ago, Bellatrix was not there. All of a sudden, realization flooded Sirius's mind and his eyes grew wide, 'O Merlin.' Sirius whipped his body and broom around, in the direction where the Bludger had passed him.

Too late. Bellatrix was already there, her Beater's bat having lashed at the throbbing Bludger with a back-handed stroke, which plowed towards Sirius at speeds unimaginable. Faster than a flash of lightning, the Bludger smashed its target with mind-boggling speed, leaving a trail of violet in its wake.

SMASH.

The impact of collision attacked the eardrums of all, leaving them ringing faintly in its wake. Bellatrix opened her eyes, which had closed of their own accord, and took in a deep breath. She raised her right arm, where a tiny splinter of wood had embedded into the elbow, dotted with drops of blood. The splinter from a Beater's bat.

That means…he managed to block it in time. But the force shattered the wooden bat. If the blast was strong enough to hit me, at such a large range, that means the shards of wood must have injured…Black…

Bellatrix flew towards the motionless figure, which was somehow still hovering on the broomstick, in spite of the force of the collision. When Bellatrix reached the figure, she stopped short and simply stared at him. Sirius's face, in fact, he as a whole was unharmed. His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, probably still getting over the shock of the blast. His hand was in front of his face, holding the remains of an erstwhile Beater's bat. But the most astounding thing of all was the pale blue force field forming a shimmering sphere around Sirius, protecting him from injury. The iridescent aura flickered in the air, and although it lacked physical form, it strangely bore splinters of wood lodged into it, causing hologram-like distortions in the sphere every few seconds.

Bellatrix looked at the still-closed eyes of Sirius. Then she looked downwards. Elladan stood there, his messy russet hair blowing in the wind, his wand drawn, the long ebony shaft of wood pointing towards Sirius. The tip of the wand was glowing with a faint blue light, and every time the sphere flickered, the wand light corresponded with the same movement. Elladan turned his eyes towards Bellatrix. Their gazes met for a brief second: Bellatrix's questioning and Elladan's unreadable. Slowly, the blue glow faded out from the wand and Elladan stowed it back into his robes. The azure sphere flickered for one last time, and died out. The embedded wooden splinters, now free, fell vertically on the ground.

Sirius slowly opened his eyes. Seeing relative peace in the surroundings, his tense shoulders relaxed and he found himself almost slumping over with fatigue. Spotting Bellatrix down, standing on the Pitch in front of Elladan, Sirius sluggishly bent his broom forwards and descended, gently landing on the grass. There, he dismounted and walked to stand beside Bellatrix.

Bellatrix turned her head towards him, but Sirius averted his eyes. He had no wish to see the triumphant expression that Bellatrix would no doubt be sporting. Sirius looked down at his shoe-laces, and gritted his teeth. This was not how it was supposed to be. James and Sirius were supposed to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, together. Star Chaser and Beater, the best in all of Hogwarts. But Sirius would not be a sore loser. He looked up at Elladan with a tight jaw, ignoring Bellatrix standing next to him, 'I don't think I'm needed here anymore.'

Elladan observed the glowing Bludger in the Quidditch crate, still struggling against its restraints. Then, he regarded Sirius, 'You think so, don't you?' Then in a lighter tone, 'Strange, I can't seem to agree with you.'

Bellatrix looked up sharply. Sirius raised his head, a disbelieving expression in his grey eyes, looking towards Elladan, 'But she smashed my bat.'

A sparkle entered Elladan's eyes, 'Exactly. She smashed your bat. And as far as my memory goes, for a person to win, he or she needed to hit the Beater, and not the bat.'

A spark of hope, incredulous and joyful, shone on Sirius's face. He spoke slowly, almost as if not daring to believe the truth, 'That means…does that mean I'm on the team?'

Elladan smiled. 'Yes.' Then he glanced towards Bellatrix, 'Both of you.'

A look of absolute, uninhibited happiness broke out on Sirius's face, 'Thank you! Thank you so, so much….'

The smile on Elladan's face grew wider, 'Next practice is this Friday afternoon. I expect everyone,' his eyes stopped on Bellatrix momentarily, 'to be on time. Good evening.'

Sirius practically ran out of the pitch, no doubt towards the Hospital Wing to share the good news with his best mate. Elladan turned and began packing up the different balls into the Quidditch crate. Bellatrix was about to spin around and walk out of the pitch, but stalled on hearing Elladan's voice, 'Black, wait for a second please.'

Bellatrix turned and stood with her arms folded, raising an eyebrow. Elladan remained kneeling in front of the Quidditch crate, but his gaze shifted upwards, focusing on Bellatrix's face. His voice was direct and clear, 'You owe me.'

Bellatrix remained still for a second, her searching gaze concentrated on Elladan, trying to read between the lines for the underlying meaning. Without a word, she turned around and walked out of the pitch. She climbed up the stands, past the locker rooms and through the Hogwarts grounds.

As Bellatrix reached the tall doors of the Castle and stepped foot in the Entrance Hall, something red-and-gold appeared within the periphery of her vision. Without turning her face and keeping her eyes ahead, Bellatrix addressed her raven-haired cousin, 'Not everybody could have blocked that shot.'

'What?' Apparently Sirius was so lost in the thoughts of being in the Gryffindor Quidditch team that he hadn't even realized that he was wandering in no fixed direction, and had already entered the Castle. Suddenly aware of Bellatrix's presence, the smile on his face dimmed, and took on a more silent, serious expression. However, there was no hint of a scowl on his face.

Bellatrix interpreted this as a positive sign, 'I said, not everybody could have blocked that shot.' Then she looked at Sirius, who was still steadfastly looking ahead. 'Those were some dangerous reflexes.'

Sirius turned his eyes towards Bellatrix, who matched his strong gaze. His stormy eyes appeared to be trying to gauge the sincerity in Bellatrix's voice. He exhaled air and looked ahead, resuming his walk, 'Still too slow.'

'That's true. I was expecting better from you.' Bellatrix's tone changed. Sirius snapped his head towards Bellatrix, confused by the sudden change of her voice from sincere to coolly scathing. Bellatrix turned towards him, her eyes silently mocking him.

The corner of Sirius's mouth curved up, 'Lies. You weren't expecting anything from me at all.' Then with a self-deprecating smirk, 'But you forget, I'm also a member of the Black family. No matter how hard you try to deny it.'

'The denial is all you.' Bellatrix walked unconcernedly onwards. 'And by the number of times I've called you by your last name, I think that I've accepted you as a Black already.'

More like a stain to the name of Black.

Sirius snorted, 'Yeah, sure, you've accepted me. More like an insult to the name of Black.'

Similar thoughts. Must be the side-effect of being related.

'Anyway, see you next Friday afternoon, Bellatrix.' Sirius waved a hand indifferently, as he began to walk away towards the Great Hall.

'Hey Black!' Sirius paused and turned his head, tilting it questioningly on hearing Bellatrix's call. Bellatrix walked up to him, smirk intact. The sarcastic lilt to her voice was thinly veiled, 'Are you going to smash my bat the next practice?'

An expression akin to a mixture of a smirk and a smile adorned Sirius's face, 'I'll try my best not to.'

'Congratulations.'

Bellatrix did not stop walking. It was dark, and the stone corridor in which she had been taking a late night walk was lit with floating candles and flaming torches flanking the shingled walls. The corridor was bare of windows and portraits, simply bearing carvings of long-extinct beasts on the rock walls, and was deserted. Or so it had been until a moment ago. A shadow fell across her path, the figure casting it obstructing her way. Bellatrix simply sidestepped him and walked on, allowing the person to fall into step beside her.

'Lucius.' Bellatrix said, inclining her head in acknowledgement. 'I thought you weren't interested in associating yourself with me.'

Lucius ignored her remark. Instead, he fixed his eyes on her, staring at her intently, 'I hear that you have been selected to be a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.' The word 'Gryffindor' was pronounced with particular contempt.

Bellatrix skimmed the tips of her fingers lightly over the engravings in the rock wall. 'It is late. You better return back to the common room before its curfew.'

Lucius made a scathing sound. His voice sounded like pure, dripping acid, 'Changing the topic, are we Bellatrix?'

Bellatrix stopped. They had reached the end of the stone corridor. The two of them stood under the shadow cast by a towering hippogriff bust, silence prevailing for a few seconds. Then Bellatrix bent forward, a caustic tinge to her tone, 'Well, judging by the colours of my tie, I'm obviously not going to be a member of the Slytherin team, am I?'

Suddenly, it appeared as if all the bite had drained out of Lucius. He exhaled and looked to the wall, his voice much quieter, 'You know Bellatrix, you really confuse me at times.'

'You shouldn't be.' Bellatrix ran a light finger over the Hippogriff bust, wiping a line of dust away with her hand.

Lucius stayed silent. Then he looked towards Bellatrix again, 'I got selected too. Chaser.'

'Good.' Bellatrix suddenly stopped her perusal of the bust and walked past Lucius, the heel of her shoes clicking distantly in the silence of the corridor. On reaching the end of the corridor, Bellatrix turned back, a faint smirk lingering around her lips, 'Just remember one thing. In the opening match of the season, the Slytherin team will have eight members, not seven. Even if one of them may not necessarily be in green-and-silver.'

Lucius smiled.

The room was dark and dingy, with a low overhanging ceiling. It practically reeked of sweat, blood, animals…and perhaps something darker. Inspite of its less-than-large size, it was practically stuffed with people, though it was hard to recognize their faces under the haze of smelly cigarette smoke. But even if it wasn't so, the faces present there were harsh, blurry and so…animalistic, that it was as difficult to tell them apart as it was to distinguish between two dogs. So all that a person could make out in that room, was a crowd of beastly faces, drunken voices and cruel eyes.

But even amongst all that cacophony, there was a quiet spot. In a comparatively secluded corner of the room, there was a small, wooden table at which two people were seated. One of the two was rather similar to the other occupants of the room: filthily dressed, a harsh, square-jawed face and an unpleasant appearance on the whole. The other was as nondescript as a person would be in black robes and a hood, shadowing the person's face. Yet, there was something which separated this particular figure from the other inhabitants of the room. Perhaps it was the figure's relaxed posture, the way his/her shoulders were held high, or the way the figure's eyes disdainfully scanned the rest of the room. The figure was as much out of place here, as a king would be in a thatched hut. The figure exuded presence, an aura which indicated that wherever he/she went, he/she did not remain unnoticed for long.

The other square-jawed man seated at the table leaned forward, his gleaming eyes examining the figure with undisguised interest, 'This job does not suit you.'

The figure remained still for a second, then slowly raised a pale hand to his/her head. The hood slowly fell back, revealing long chocolate tresses and an aristocratic, impassive face. Delphine leant back on the back of the rickety, wooden chair, 'I will not be doing it for long anyway. This happens to be my last visit.'

'Really?' Fenrir Greyback smiled widely, revealing a set of yellowed fangs. 'That is a pity.'

'Since you have already agreed to join us, I see no need of visiting you again.' Delphine could not quite mask the contempt in her voice. Few people possessed the capability of putting her in a bad mood, and Fenrir was one of them.

Fenrir leant forward again, 'But you see, if you stop visiting, I might lose the….,' Fenrir paused for a second, raising a long, dirty fingernail to his chin and scraping his stubble in pretend thought, 'I might lose the motivation to assist the Dark side.' He leaned back, smirking at Delphine.

For the first time since she had made Fenrir's acquaintance, Delphine smiled. Her lips widened as she crossed her fingers on the table, a gleam in her bluish-green eyes.

The smirk on Fenrir's face faltered, as his eyes narrowed at Delphine's unpredictable behaviour. His voice was a low growl, 'Why are you smiling?'

Delphine pushed the table and got up, her chair making a grating sound against the rotten wooden planks of the floor. The raucous room quieted down, as people swerved their heads to look curiously at Fenrir and Delphine. Fenrir watched Delphine warily, a suspicious scowl stretching across his face.

Delphine's voice was the very epitome of warm politeness, 'Because if you value your filthy hide, I'm sure you'll manage to find…,' Delphine paused, smiling good-naturedly at Fenrir's glaring face, 'motivation to join the Dark side.' Delphine turned around and walked to the wooden door.

As Delphine swung the door open, the door groaned ominously, almost hanging off its hinges. As Delphine took a step forwards, she turned back, 'Oh, and one more reason. I couldn't help but control my joy at the thought that I wouldn't have to bear with your putrid breath anymore.' As Fenrir's eyes widened at the in-your-face insult, Delphine continued pleasantly, 'I hope we never meet again,' her smile reached full intensity, 'You disgusting little half-breed.'

Fenrir continued gaping at the door for some time, before a quiet pop of someone Disapparating outside the building made him return to his senses. Shaking his head like a dog trying to get water out of its ears, Fenrir pulled a dusty bottle of Firewhiskey towards him, wrenched off the crudely made lid and downed all of its contents.

Meanwhile, more than a thousand miles away, Delphine appeared with a faint popping sound in the middle of a dark alleyway. Her right hand plunged in the depths of her robes, quickly withdrawing a white mask, placing it over her face in seconds. Brushing lint off her shoulder, Delphine walked briskly to the entrance of the alley and turned down into the deserted street, her footsteps making the only audible sound for miles. She walked its entire length, passing under the shadow of many old, non-functioning street-lamps. Finally, she stopped at the porch of a two-storied, dilapidated house. She walked rapidly to the door and withdrew her wand from her right sleeve, murmuring a few well-chosen words. Stowing it back, Delphine pushed open the door and entered the dimly lit hallway, the door clicking shut behind her.

The sound of a few voices reached Delphine's ear, echoing faintly from the room to Delphine's left. The house, despite of all appearances, was not deserted. But Delphine walked straight and started ascending the steps of the big wooden staircase, which led to the second floor. On reaching the upper floor, she turned right and started pacing down a high-ceilinged passageway.

As Delphine walked, she couldn't help but release a silent, inward sigh. Finally, the werewolf envoy mission was done. Honestly, if she had to stay in the company of those mangy creatures one more minute then….Delphine exhaled. Well, that was the result of rubbing off an Inner Circle member the wrong way. When Delphine had first joined the service, it was Rosier who gave her, her first mission. Being a member of the Dark Lord's Inner Circle, he was hierarchically her superior, but as everybody knows, no Black tolerates being ordered around. It had been two years since Delphine joined the service, and she had completed a total of twenty-two missions, all successful. However, she was yet to meet the enigmatic Dark Lord who was the leader of this movement.

But who cares. Because for now, Delphine was elated. Rosier would be getting off her neck, once and for all, and she would be getting a new 'instructor'. She was fairly sure that it would be Avery, having heard the man's name from Rosier's mouth several times, and received the man's letters giving her information about the missions in Rosier's absence. It was with this thought, that Delphine walked to the end of the passageway and pushed open the black door located at the end.

The door swung open, creaking softly, announcing her presence to anyone present in the room. Delphine slowly walked in, her heels clicking against the mahogany floor. She scanned the room with her eyes, picking up on each unnecessary detail. The room was comparatively much better furnished than the rest of the house, provided with a wooden fireplace. Speaking of the fireplace…Delphine's eyes focused on the lone person, apart from her, present in the room. He was seated in the armchair in front of the brightly lit fireplace, the back of the armchair facing her. Even though Delphine could not see his face, she knew that his eyes were concentrated on the bright, dancing flames in the heath.

Delphine took a step forward, 'I take it you're my new instructor?'

The man- Avery chuckled. Somehow, the temperature in the room seemed like it had dropped several degrees. The very air seemed frozen, in spite of the heat of the merry flames. A cold voice echoed in the room, sounding almost….amused, 'That depends on your definition of new.'

A barely perceptible shiver ran over Delphine's spine. She gave herself a mental shake. Delphinus Black had never felt so…unnerved before. This man, Avery…she had never quite heard a voice like his. So chilling, void of emotion and yet so…..disturbingly happy. Like the world was going his way, yet he had still so, so much to accomplish.

The cold voice rung through the room again, sounding almost thoughtful, 'You know, keeping on a mask while making someone else's acquaintance can be interpreted as discourtesy.'

Delphine ran a light finger over her white Death Eater mask. Then she looked up at the man seated in the armchair, her voice deceptively light and airy, 'Not any more discourteous than to turn your back in an armchair while conversing, I'd like to believe.'

A high, cold laugh resonated in the room. Delphine felt a cold breath on the back of her neck, escaping down her throat. She drew her cloak tighter around herself, feeling more on edge than ever. The cold voice continued, as if talking about the weather, 'But you see, my position makes me a bit more privileged regarding forgiveness for discourtesy, unlike you.'

Delphine's voice was calm and steady, 'And I couldn't care less about forgiveness or discourtesy, unlike you.'

Avery's tone lost all the casual conversational quality it had possessed before, sounding only cold and practical, 'Your identity is not a secret to me, Miss Delphinus Black. There's no use. Remove your mask.'

Delphine's fingers tightened around the smooth shaft of her wand in her robes, 'But I think you'll agree that there's a difference between knowing a name, and knowing a face.'

For a moment, silence reigned in the room, unchallenged. Then the voice came again, musing to itself, 'Let's make it an exchange, then.'

Delphine held her breath as the sound of the wooden legs, scraping over the mahogany floor, reverberated in the room. The armchair slowly swung around, the man still seated. He was dressed in black garb, from head to toe, a long, woolen travelling cloak draped over his shoulders. He was of medium build, but his face was in shadow. Slowly, the man leant forward, the orange firelight illuminating his face and Delphine's eyes widened in shock.

This man was not Avery. Could not be Avery. Because Avery was supposed to be a man. An alive man. The person in front of her was humanesque, no doubt, and he could pass the test for a man, but only if the man had died decades ago. If Delphine had not been concentrating on other things, namely the skull-like face before her, then she would have noticed that the man before her must have been very handsome years ago, the vestige of which was retained in his pale, hollowed cheeks, his high cheekbones, and dark hair swept over his forehead. But Delphine was more focused on the ivory-like, translucent skin, the thin lips stretched into a sibilant smirk, and cold, merciless red eyes.

'Let's make introductions then.' The Dark Lord leant back on the armchair, his thin lips decorated by a sinister smile, 'I am Lord Voldemort.'

A/N: If you liked the chapter, please, please, please review! Especially if you want a quick update!

Btw, the Voldemort shown here is quite obviously not the bald-headed, lacking-a-nose Voldy of Harry's time. He hasn't gone that far yet. And the part with Delphine and Fenrir was, if you guys remember, referred to earlier in the chapter during the attack on Professor Watson. While talking to Bellatrix, Delphine had mentioned that since she was on a werewolf mission, she was able to identify Remus as a werewolf, knowing all the signs.