Her heels dug into the blood-matted ground and the frayed ends of her robe whipped around her as she drank in the sound of screams that caressed her ears. It was art, Bellatrix decided, watching as Muggles ran for the lives they would never be able to save. They would all be dead by the end of the night. Their grovelling and begging meant nothing to her; it was all worthless, as they would soon find out. She wanted no survivors, just as her Lord had always ordered.

She had ordered his wand to be retrieved from the Ministry days after her Lord's disappearance, because it was only a disappearance. He had assured them of his immortality, so it was simply a matter of time before he returned to them, to her. Bellatrix would proudly lead his troops until then, wreaking the havoc and inciting the fear her Lord always had.

The Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors would not have peace for what they had done. They didn't deserve peace. They deserved pain and suffering, and that was exactly what she was going to give to them. The muggles were simply the start, the little itch on the side of the Dumbledore and his Order. They had celebrated the momentary relief, before she had ensured they didn't forget.

They would get the Potter boy eventually. Her Lord had personally gone to see the boy, so he must have been important somehow; her Lord had a plan for the boy, and she would ensure that the boy was ready and willing to aid her Lord with whatever task he had in mind. There was nowhere in this world that the Order would be able to hide the boy; neither the Wizarding World, nor the disgusting muggle world would be safe from their search.

It would be much less effort for Dumbledore to simply give them the boy, but it would also be much more fun to have a hunt for him. The path of destruction they would leave behind made Bellatrix feel giddy at the very idea of it. There would be many little villages like this one, thousands more screams, and sobs, and terror.

Four years had passed, after all, and the trepidation that had filled their world left her proud of her actions. Nary a Mudblood dare venture Diagon Alley, not without one of Dumbledore's lapdogs keeping a keen eye on them, wand nearly drawn at all seconds. Bellatrix cackled at the memory of it. They were all so scared, and their fear was so strong it was something like sustenance to her.

"Bella. We found him."

"In this muggle hovel?" Bellatrix screamed, eyes returning to the previously disgustingly-perfect muggle neighbourhood. "Let me see the boy!"

Grasping the shoulders of the boy tightly, she looked into wide green eyes. Bellatrix cast her mind back for a moment, certain that the magic around the boy felt familiar. Her eyes shot to the boy's forehead, there was no mistaking who he was, and that magic, she recognised it now, it felt similar to the magical cup her Lord had asked her to protect only years ago.

Smiling, pleased with herself for coming to the correct conclusion, Bellatrix ruffled the boy's hair. "You don't need to return to those vermin anymore. We'll take you far, far away from them. Bella's going to protect and teach you, okay? Right after we get you out of these horrendous rags."

Her nose scrunched as she really took a notice of what he was wearing. "Bring the muggles with us. They deserve something more special than an immediate death for treating the precious child as they had. I'm certain they've treated him terribly, the animals."

Bellatrix apparated out with a sharp crack, knowing that the rest of the Death Eaters would finish up and return to the Manor when they were bored, or if there was no one left to play with. There was a little boy she needed to take care of, and remove all evidence of his stay with those foul muggles.

"Harry is such a plebeian name. I think I'll call you 'Harrison', okay? Far more fitting a name for a wizard, especially an Heir like you are, than 'Harry'. Probably the decision of your Mudblood mother." Bellatrix didn't bother waiting for the boy's answer. If he disagreed, it was simply because he didn't know any better. The poor boy.

"Dippy! Draw the poor boy a bath, would you? And find him some fitting clothes, otherwise, go buy some!" Bellatrix demanded of the trembling house elf. He popped away seconds later, and Bellatrix grasped the boy's hand again, more gently this time, as she led him up the stairs to his new room. She was certain that he would like it. She'd have Cissy bring Draco over soon, after she started teaching Harrison everything he should have already been taught.

It simply wouldn't do for the boy marked by her Lord to be seen to be lacking in anyway, or to be looked down upon by prissy Lucius. No, Harrison would have to be trained by her, and the best they could find to surpass the training of all other Pureblood children. If anyone stood above the rest, it would be Harrison, as her Lord's favoured child and her newly appointed ward. Bellatrix wouldn't allow him to be anything less than the best.

"Harrison, Dippy will help you bathe and bring you clothes afterwards. Wear them, then you will be led to the dining room for dinner."

…xXx…

He stood beside her as an equal, yet he surpassed her in many ways—as was expected of the boy her Lord had chosen. His eyes were alight with the reflection of the flames of the burning house before him, and further incited by his own desire to watch them be destroyed.

Overwhelming pride washed over her every time she lay her eyes on her ward. He had grown from that weed of a boy into a confident boy whose words were influenced by the magical power he held. He was ten, now, nearing eleven, and Hogwarts was very nearly theirs already. Dumbledore's meagre number of fighters had weakened over the years with only those who truly had nothing to lose joining his Order. In fact, Bellatrix had heard of more people dropping out of his Order than joining.

Harrison reminded her more of her Lord with every day, and she was certain that Hogwarts would be nothing more than his playground. They had already decided that he would enter the castle under the name 'Harry Potter', even though he hadn't responded to that name in years. It had been Harrison's plan to draw out their hope, rising it to pitiable levels, before crushing it, and them, in ways they had never been crushed before. Bellatrix simply couldn't wait for the day the light faded from Dumbledore's eyes, and all hope left the pocket of resistance that remained.

The Dark Lord would be returning soon, and both Harrison and Bellatrix would be there to welcome him with the world they had conquered. A world that would be entirely his to recreate as he pleased.

It would be the world she had dreamed of when she was younger; a world where she wouldn't need to hide her magic from those disgusting muggles who saw themselves as superior, yet lived in a constant fear of the unknown. No, they would all be destroyed long before they had time to recuperate. They would cease to exist, taking all their filth with them, before they even thought to fight back.

If she didn't ensure that, she knew that Harrison would, under the Dark Lord's orders. Their Lord was far more brilliant, and would see the options they had never considered. He would be the only one who could put the finishing touches on their perfect world.

And Harrison had already begun the plans to bring him back.

Written for

The Very AU Challenge: After Defeat AU