Story: When Everything Changed
Summary: Something inside begins to protest her actions causing Bellatrix to question herself and those around her. How will her world as she knows it be affected? BL/HG
Rated: M
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything. I am merely borrowing the characters to play my own little game with them.
A/N 1: Italics are a flashback. Also ** before a new paragraph after a break indicates a scene change. While xx means skipping further into that scene. I just wanted to clarify. Please let me know if these symbols aren't showing up.
A/N 2: Though I have edited this more than once I am sure there are still mistakes. This is unbetaed and all mistakes are mine.
_
Sorry it took me so long to post this. I had a really hard time writing this chapter. It's probably the hardest thing I've ever written honestly. And then last minute I decided to go back and add a new scene.
I already have the next chapter written, but I hope to write the one after that before going back to edit the next one.
I hope you enjoy! -Carleigh
Bellatrix's POV
Inside I was screaming, begging, sobbing: dying, as the Dark Lord's wand aimed at the bundle of blankets on the rock. My body threatened to crumble; agony had caused it to become a pin-pricking inferno. The guilt, terror, and imminent mourning swallowed me, yet on the outside I battled back my stinging tears, and the animalistic cry that was shredding its way up my throat to remain stoic.
"Bellatrix."
"Yes, My Lord?"
"I've changed my mind." I wished I could be flooded with relief, but my stomach flopped on the grown in dread. "I want you to kill the child."
The excruciating anguish surging through my veins and greedily reached for my heart; caused my hand to shake as I raised my wand at the bundle. My eyes darted to Rodulphus' pale face in the back of the group of Death Eaters. He refused to meet my eyes. "Are you sure you don't wish to do it, My Lord?" I asked quietly hoping that my voice had remained steady.
"If you do not do this Bellatrix, I will assume you're no longer loyal to me." There was a malicious glint in his eyes.
A child's wail sounded in the heavy night. I felt myself bleeding out. I was unable to stop the dark blood that gushed from my veins. The thick substance filled my lungs slowly suffocating me. It gurgled out of my throat, and soaked the ground. When I glanced down, certain that this was the end, there was nothing there.
I looked at my master, into his cruel, unyielding eyes, at Rodulphus who had shrunken further into the shadows, and finally at the innocent child crying for its mother.
Inhaling deeply I attempted to bring air into my lungs. They were aching and pleading for it, but no relief was provided.
"Avada Kedavra," I whispered. The crying was extinguished as the cold night settled over us.
The Dark Lord approached me his horrifying laughter slashed through the smothering night air. "You have served me well my pet. Donahue, dispose of the body."
"NO! AVADA KEDAVRA!" A green light flashed and I heard the fall of a body.
I spun toward the crowd of Death Eaters, "CRUCIO!" Screaming filled the air. Terrible, agonizing screams: from voices I did not recognize and faces I could not see. Changing the course of my spell Rodulphus' tormented shrieks saturated the bitter night. The darkness rang with the cracks of aparation. Still there was that malevolent laughter. Then another noise filled the air; a high-pitched and hallow cackle.
"Enough," The Dark Lord whispered in my ear. His repulsive hand brushed over my shoulder and my magic waned.
His laughter impaled my eardrums. When I spun face the Dark Lord he had disappeared. I stumbled over to the child and picked it up. Its head flopped back where the neck was unsupported. Its dead weight pressed down on my body. The world spun. The tears broke loose and I fled holding the baby tight to my chest.
I ran until my legs gave way and I fell to the ground clutching the child. I opened my mouth but no noise came out. Silently I screamed until my throat was raw and its tissues hung in mangled pieces within me. My tears violently shook my body until it shattered. Lifelessly I lay there as fire raged beneath my skin and bile clung to the moist grass near my head.
Rocking back and forth with the baby girl in my arms I whispered, "I'm so sorry. I love you. Mommy loves you."
**
Opening my eyes I turn to my side and dry heave until stomach acid blisters my throat as it exits my body. The cold air bites at my clammy, sweat covered skin. I raise a shaky hand to my face and attempt to wipe away my tears, but they reproduce in scalding tracks on my skin.
Holding myself I cry. I dig my nails into the dirt beneath me and grate them against my chest. My lungs croak for air as they sizzle in the inferno of my regret. I scream. It ruptures from my chest and slices my throat before reverberating through the cell. My vocal cords strain against the weight of my cries until no sound escapes me. Yet, I mutely release a visceral roar of agony for deaf ears.
The lacerations on my chest and arms puff beneath my nails as I rake further beneath my flesh. Skin and blood cake under them as I continue to search for an unknown freedom. Stray tears still trickle down imprinted trails on my cheeks.
My eyes flutter with exhaustion and my arms fall limply to my sides. As sleep drags me into its embrace I can sense the weight of my lifeless daughter in my arms.
**
My legs dangle over the edge of the cliff. If the wind blew just right I could fall. I could lean further forward or slide off the edge. No one would know the difference, and then it would be over. I would be free of my actions. I would no longer hear the cries of children and screams of my victims in the night.
The wind howls around me and I can hear the wailing of a baby in the distance.
A tear trickles down my cheek and I brush it away. There are more coming, yet, I know I will not survive more tears so I force then away.
The baby's scream pierces my brain as it rushes over the ocean.
Leaning closer to the edge I watch the waves crash against jagged rocks below. I ignore the footsteps I detect behind me.
Someone sits beside me. It doesn't take me long to identify who it is as the scent of clean linens, parchment, and vanilla washes over me.
"It's a long fall, isn't it?" Hermione asks.
"It's not that far." I reply. "I asked you not to come back."
"I need to talk to you," I can hear the hurt in her voice.
"So talk."
"Bellatrix, please don't be like this."
"Like what?"
"Not here. Others can hear us."
"Like what, Hermione?"
"Stop pushing me away when I'm trying to help you."
"I can't be helped."
"That's not true."
"Can I go back to my cell now?" I ask standing. I don't want to hear the hope in her voice. I don't want to hear the small inflection in her tone that sounds like love and grows stronger every time I see her. I don't want her to be here, because I want her to realize that there is better than me out there.
I don't want her here, because I can't stand seeing what I know I can't have.
Hermione stands and offers me a hand which I ignore.
We walk back to my cell in silence.
"I brought you some food." Hermione says as she pulls a bag out from beneath her robes.
"Thanks," I say quietly and take the bag. I turn my back to her and move over to the window. I feel her cleaning spell wash over me and the room.
"What do you need to talk to me about?" I ask as I shake my head trying to rid my mind of the crying. The wind blows: within it I can hear the fatal words and then the sound stops.
"I think you should ask for a trial."
"No," I look over my shoulder at Hermione, "I need to be here."
"You can't stay here."
I return my focus to the dark sea outside of my window. I can hear Hermione move behind me. Her arms wrap around me as she presses herself into my back. Her head rests on my shoulder. Despite my better judgment I lean into her.
"Please Bella."
"No." I kiss her temple and pull away. "I know where I belong."
"I don't think you do." Hermione kisses my cheek and leaves.
**
Staring down at my quivering hands I could see they were skinned in the moonlight. My flesh adhered to the shovel I had tossed aside.
My body wracked with dry sobs. My tears soaked into the ground miles away. I glanced at my childhood home before picking up the lifeless bundle at my feet. Pushing aside the blankets reveled a tuff of jet black hair. Tears still clung to my daughter's skin, yet, when I kissed her my cold lips were met by even colder skin.
I bent over my makeshift grave and placed my daughter inside with trembling arms. A single tear forced its way from my body. It was all that I had left.
"It's better this way," I whispered to her. The unwanted truth lingered above my head.
Raising my wand I encased her in an invisible blanket. My heart dully thumped in my chest. It was too weak to release more emotion. My mind was eerily quiet as thoughts sluggishly processed through it. My body had worked too hard, cried to loudly, and felt too much in too little time.
My lungs felt as if they were collapsing as they struggled to follow through with the simple process of breathing. My limbs forgot how to work and I feared they would crumble with the slightest breeze. My bones were brittle; too fragile to work. I knew at any moment they would shatter: leaving me to die.
Picking up the shovel I returned the earth to its original state on top of my child. I cast barriers to ensure her grave would not be disturbed. Out of the recesses of my mind came the charm for flowers that would never die, and they sprouted over the grave as I cast it.
"Goodbye," The word ripped itself from my lips and wrapped around my throat tightly before disappearing into the night.
Forcing my lungs open I took a deep breath before turning around. As I walked across the lawn I glanced up at the full moon before my world turned black. Numbness settled over my body, and I released a high-pitched cackle.
**
Hermione smiles at me as she calls to me. However, every time I approach her she darts between the trees. I can hear her joy filled laughter. I call out to her, but she doesn't stop. Her voice becomes distant. I begin to run after her, and am brought into a clearing.
I stop and watch as Hermione weaves through the familiar rocks. She perches on the rock in the center and holds out her hand to me. I take a step forward and find myself raising a shaking arm. Realizing my wand is in it I try to scream. I know what is coming; I can feel it, but I can't stop it. A manic laughter is wrenched from my lips. "Avada Kedavra!"
I watch as Hermione's body is illuminated in green light. She goes limp and falls to the ground before the earth swallows her. I scream, but no one is there to listen.
xx
Jolting up I struggle to take deep breaths. My focus darts around the room as I reassure myself it was only a dream.
The cell door opens and Ron Weasley steps into the space. I frown in confusion. "Mr. Weasley, what are you doing here?" I croakily ask.
"I'm here to take you out," He says kindly.
"What happened to the other guy?"
"He called in sick. Are you okay?" He asks. I can hear the genuine concern in his voice.
I nod and raise a shaky hand to my head to wipe away cold sweat.
Ron approaches me and crouches by my side. Cautiously I watch him raise a hand before he gently brushes his robe against my face removing the sweat and last traces of dream from my face.
"Why are you doing this?"
He shrugs, "This place can't be easy; even if you've been here before." I hear the silent revelation in his voice: Hermione.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley." I can't help but smirk as his cheeks turn the color of tomatoes.
"No problem. Call me Ron."
He holds out his hand to help me get up and I accept the gesture. He turns and I follow him out of my cell.
"How's everyone?" I ask tentatively as we walk through Azkaban.
"Good. At least from what I've seen."
"And Hermione?" I ask hoping he will know something.
"I've seen her better, but considering everything, I'd say she's handling it pretty well."
I nod and focus on my feet.
We stop at the doors and when Ron doesn't move to open them I look up at him.
"Listen, I don't know what is going on between you and 'Mione, but I want you to know I don't have a problem with it." He says.
"I appreciate that, but nothing's happening between us."
He sends me a skeptical look before he opens the doors while telling me to have a nice day and walks off.
Sighing I begin to wander around the prison grounds. I walk along the edge staring down at the ocean. I could easily slip, or pretend to slip. The knowledge of being so close to death causes adrenaline to coarse through my veins
Deciding I should sit I prop my back against the prison and stare out at the sea.
I can still here a faint cry in the back of my mind. It refuses to let me go, to let me rest, and I don't know how much longer I can fight it.
My mind drifts to Hermione. I can see her smiling face before she was struck by the killing curse. I shake my head to rid myself at the image, but I know it won't go away. Eventually I will hurt her.
I close my eye and breathe deeply. Though I am still plagued by my mind; when I am outside the walls of Azkaban the weight of my thoughts decrease enough to allow me to feel marginally peaceful.
I listen to the sound of the waves and the birds in the distance.
I am not sure how long it has been when I open my eyes again, but I turn my head to the side and find Andromeda walking toward me.
"Wait," I call out. "I'll come to you. It's not safe."
She nods .
As I walk across the crumbling cliff ledge I feel rocks begin to shift beneath my feet. The ledge gives way and my stomach is forced into my chest. I hear a scream and a hand wraps around my wrist.
I look up into Dromeda's terrified eyes, and I realize that I am oddly calm. I grab onto ledge with my other hand and attempt to swing myself up but the rocks turn to dust beneath my touch.
"Let go," I say looking at Dromeda.
"No."
"It's not safe."
"I'm not leaving you."
I can hear frantic footsteps and feel magic wrap around me and pull me up onto safety. When I hit the ground I find myself looking up at Ron.
"Thanks," I say quietly.
Andromeda is soon by my side fussing over my well-being and scolding me. "I thought you were going to die," she says.
Despite my better judgment I feel my resolve cracking and a giggle escapes my lips. It soon turns into a laugh so forceful that my sides hurt. Dromeda hits me and exclaims it wasn't funny, but that doesn't stop me.
I laugh until there is no sound left in my body, because for a moment I felt free.
Andromeda drags me up off the ground and leads me back to my cell. The whole time she clings to my side and I begin to feel guilty for not trying to stop myself from falling. When we get enter my cell she sits next to me and links our arms.
"Have you considered asking for a trial?"
"Have you been talking to Hermione?" I ask in disbelief.
"No," She says frowning. "I just have a feeling it might go better than you think."
"I'm not asking for one, Dromeda."
"You need to."
"No. I'm sorry, but like I've told Hermione, I can't."
She nods, "It was nice to see you, Bella." She stands and kisses me on the cheek before leaving.
**
I smile faintly at the woman approaching me. "Hello, Minerva."
"Hello dear." She stands over me and extends a hand to help me up. I take it.
Her presence offers me a sudden respite. It feels as if in this moment that I know I will be okay, because Minerva's here. She radiates a protective manner. She will force the memories go away, and help me allow me to forgive myself.
Even if it's only for a moment.
She takes me back to my cell. Along the way she talks about the history of Azkaban and points out different architectural features. I listen as she explains the dilemmas that occurred when they were trying to build the structure, and how it is mainly supported by magic, because the island could not hold the structure's weight. I find her choice of topic odd, yet relieving. It allows me to see the building for what it is and not the nightmares it causes.
"Are you here to try to talk me into asking for a trial?" I ask as I sit down on the makeshift stone bed in my cell.
"No. I'm simply here to escort you back to your cell."
"I don't believe you."
"I understand why you won't ask, Bellatrix. I'm not going to try to change your mind. I know you are out of harm's way, at least from others, while you are here."
I nod at her response. I'm not certain how to reply.
"That doesn't mean I'm not worried about what this place is doing to you. I would prefer you ask for a trial. The worst that could happen is you end up back here, and after that you could always try again."
"Not without a reason."
"There's always a reason dear. I'm afraid I must go. Lately, I find myself neglecting certain duties I have at Hogwarts in favor of spending time with friends and family."
"Bye," I say quietly.
Nervously I reach out and squeeze her hand. She squeezes back.
**
I stood facing Professor McGonagall amongst the destruction. Our wands were aim at each other's chest. Yet, all I felt was loathing and hatred. I was not hesitant to engage in battle with her. I didn't care about the stories I had heard of her power from other death eaters. This was my time to prove myself.
I cast the first spell that she easily parried with barely a flick of her wand. Spells began to fly rapidly between us. The ground crackled beneath us before igniting. Flames rose between us creating an unnoticed barrier. My arms became heavy, but I continued to match her spell by spell.
My fatigue caused my shield charm to waver and her spell singed my cheek. We stopped. I stared at her for a moment and saw the conflict in her eyes. Taking my chance I turned on the spot and magic embraced me pulling me away from Professor McGonagall to safety.
**
I have decided, while there is light, to distract myself with the book Hermione left last time she was here. I am entranced by the muggle ways of solving murders in this novel. They use such odd devices, and it appears that they make everything ten times more complicated than it needs to be.
The cell door clinks open and I glance up as Hermione steps inside before returning to the book I'm reading.
"Muggles go through a lot of unnecessary trouble to solve crime." I state.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it," I can hear the amusement in her tone. I memorize the page number I'm on quickly before setting down the book. "I wasn't sure if you would. I brought a few more books, you might have heard of them, but I'm not sure what books you've read so I'm sticking to muggle ones."
"Wise choice. What are they?"
"Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes."
"Thank you."
"No problem." She sits next to me and pulls the novels out of her cloak.
"Have you thought about what I said?"
"You mean what you, Andromeda, Tonks, Narcissa, and Minerva have talked to be about?" I ask nonchalantly.
"Um, yes."
"I can't, Hermione."
"Okay."
She pulls another book out of her cloak. I can feel the demons and memories pressing on the edges of my mind. I need to focus on something quickly.
I pick it the book I set aside and begin to read. I shift as Hermione leans up against me and rests her head on my shoulder to make it more comfortable for her.
I read for a while, however I am not as entranced as before, the smell of vanilla teases my nose, the heat of Hermione's body against mine makes me tired. It's been so long since I've felt warm.
"What are you reading?" I ask.
It takes her a moment to pull herself out of the story. I find myself smiling softly. "It's called Their Eyes Were Watching God. It's about an African American woman who sets out to find herself, because she does not want to fall into the social norms of women in the 1920s or 30s. It is set in three parts based on her time spent with three different men."
"You've read it before?"
"Quite a few times actually. I stumbled upon it randomly in a small bookshop one summer."
Now that she mentions it I can see how worn the pages are.
"You asked me to help you." Hermione states.
"I shouldn't have."
"That's what I'm trying to do, Bellatrix, help you. Please ask for a trial."
"I've told you I can't, and if you insist on coming here we will not be discussing this every time you're here. I will personally ask Shacklebolt that you no longer come to visit me if that is the case."
Against my own will my hand wraps around Hermione's wrist. Black suddenly envelops my vision and I feel my face splitting from a smile. My body has gone numb. I seek peace in the darkness and almost manage to lose myself when I hear a wince of pain in the distance.
Instantly my surroundings reappear and I drop Hermione's wrist as her skin sears mine.
"He doesn't know I'm here," She whispers. Hermione tilts her head and I can hear taking uneven breaths.
I can see the angry red mark my hand left. From the sadness I saw in her eyes I know it's not as red as the mark my words left on her heart.
"I'm sorry." I attempt to put all of my emotions into the apology.
She looks up at me with tears in her eyes and nods her head in acknowledgement. "I miss you."
"I miss you too." Leaning forward my lips brush against hers. With each touch our kisses become more desperate. I want Hermione to know why she can't be here. I want her to feel and see everything I've been forced to remember through my kiss. I want to be able to love her properly. I want to let her go.
Hermione levitates the books to the ground and transfigures a mattress beneath us. I can feel her tugging on my shirt. I shift so I am hovering above her and deepen our kiss. Hermione pulls me down on top of her. Yet, we are still not close enough. Her hands caress my face and tangle in my hair. Propping myself up on one hand I gently remove one of her hands from my hair and lace our fingers together.
Breaking the kiss I rest my forehead against Hermione's as I attempt to control my uneven breathing. I pepper her forehead and cheeks with light kisses.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," I whisper in her ear before continuing to place kisses on her face occasionally stopping to kiss her lips.
Falling to my side I pull her into me. She buries her face in my shoulder and her arm slides around my waist.
"I'm confused," I hear her mumble.
"I know."
"Do you want to be with me?"
"It's not that simple," I reply feebly.
"We can make it work."
"I'm in Azkaban."
"Really? I didn't notice," Hermione states sarcastically. "Give me a better reason."
"I can't"
"Why not?"
"If you knew who I was, Hermione, you wouldn't want to come close to me. There are so many things you don't know about me. How can you be with someone you don't know?"
"Whatever it is it won't change anything. I know who you are now and that's all that matters," I can hear the pleading in her tone.
"You would change your mind if you found out what I've have done."
"So tell me, Bellatrix! Let me in."
"I can't." The pain in my tone is evident and for once I am glad it is there. Hermione needs to know that this is just as hard for me.
"Then what are we doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"It always comes back to this. We decide we can't go further and then sooner or later we cave and end up kissing. We either have to do something about this or put it behind us. I can't do this anymore, Bella! Every time you kiss me my world stops moving. I've never felt like this."
She doesn't say it but I can hear the words she omitted. I can see them in her eyes screaming to me. It's killing her that we're not together.
It's killing me too.
"We're friends. That's all we can be," I say shrugging.
"Okay."
Hermione tries to pull away from me but I tighten my grip on her.
"What are you doing?" She asks. I can hear frustration lacing the edges of her words.
"Stay a little longer, please."
"Because this is what friends do?" Her frustration has morphed to anger.
She looks up at me and I can see sorrow in her eyes. Before she can register what I am doing I kiss her. I kiss her with everything I feel for her in a feeble attempt to take away her pain.
Hermione pulls away from me. "Give me a reason to stay."
I stare at her for a moment and see the impatience forming on her face. I bite my lip as nerves threaten to destroy my stomach. "Because," I can barely hear my own voice. "I need you."
Immediately she snuggles back into me and her arm tightens around me. I shift so I am as close to Hermione as possible. I close my eyes and for the first time my head is empty. There are no threatening memories or haunting dreams.
I smile as I feel Hermione's lips brush against my neck. For now I am safe.