Chapter III

FLESH AND BONE AND BLOOD

oOo

Bellatrix Lestrange grips the edge of the bathroom sink, her knuckles almost as white as the porcelain she's clinging to, staring at her reflection for the very first time in many years.

When was the last time she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror? She cannot remember. What she does remember, however, is the way she looked back then, for it would be impossible to forget even a single detail of the best time of her life.

And it hurts more than she thought it would, seeing the signs of change etched on the skin she's wearing; they cannot be ignored, they demand to be acknowledged. Old scars, fresh bruises and faded tattoos adorn the body of the woman who's staring back at her, the body of a survivor, a body that looks familiar but doesn't feel quite right to fit into.

I look just like the hell I've been through, she thinks to herself. It's not just a matter of vanity though. There was a time she would have been proud of all these battle scars but, right now, looking at them makes her feel sick. Each flaw scattered across her sickly pale skin seems to read "fool".

A fool, yes, that's exactly what she is.

None of this makes sense anymore.

She loosens her grip on the sink's edge so that her fingertips can slightly graze the skin of her inner left forearm, tentatively tracing the jet black snake and skull she has been staring non-stop for the last few weeks spent in bed. Fourteen years... for fourteen long years the Dark Mark had looked very faded and she had wanted nothing more than to see it return to its original vividness, the proof that he would have come to save her. How many times had she watered it with her own tears, hoping they held the power to darken the ink somehow? She had wished for it, prayed for it every day and every night.

And now her wish has been granted. Now her tattoo looks like it used to, burns like it used to; with the blackness came the pain. She doesn't mind. Nothing matters, not anymore.

My body, just another thing I lost to him. This flesh bears his marks, he owns it. The night I left Azkaban behind my back I thought I was finally free, but he was just claiming back a possession; it was about him, not me. And when he saw his little soldier was broken it seemed only logical to toss it away instead of trying to piece it back together. What a waste of time. Didn't even flinch, did he?

Her breath gets caught in her throat as his words play again and again inside of her head. She hugs herself; arms crossing over her pounding heart, hands gripping her bony shoulders. Skin to skin, no barrier in-between.

She's wearing a simple deep blue nightgown that leaves an awful lot of skin exposed and threatens to fall off her way-too-thin figure any minute now. Her shaky fingers wander across her body; guided by a desperate need to reconnect with the shell she's in, they stroke, they squeeze, they probe... not a single inch is left unexamined. She feels nothing but jutting bones and general flimsiness under the palms of her hands; nothing familiar there.

And she gets frustrated, she gets angry.

And she finds herself clawing at her own skin in an attempt to rip it apart.

That's when she notices her nails are different. Shorter. Dull. Incapable of carrying out her vision.

That's odd. Sha had gotten used to the way they looked when she was still in her cell; they were very long, all chipped and with dirt underneath them. She actually preferred them like that, they suited her better than these... stumps.

Snape is the only one she's been seeing lately, no one but him ever comes to her room. He must have taken care of the problem, he must have fixed her nails out of fear she might try to scratch his face in a fit of anger. Smart.

And he must have done that using magic because she really can't picture Severus Snape actually sitting down by her side to clip her nails. The very idea is enough to bring a weak smile to her faded lips.

Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, its corners crooked in a way that seems beyond Bellatrix Lestrange.

She runs a hand through her unruly curls, breathing out a deep sigh.

She needs to find something, anything, that reminds her of who she truly is. What she's looking at is no body of hers. She needs to see, to feel Bella... again. Or maybe for the first time.

Her hand glides from the back of her head to the side of her neck, wrapping itself around her throat.

All she sees now are her eyes.

Her index finger traces her sharp jawline as her thumb finds her bottom lip.

All she is is right there, swimming in the blackness underneath the glassy surface. And now she can see. And now there's one thing she's able to recognize.

Her mind's racing, her heart's pounding against her ribcage.

Dull and lifeless but blazing with rage at the same time, her black orbs are the most fearsome gaze one could ever meet.

And someone just did.

The slightest gasp pulls Bellatrix out of her thoughts. Her eyes focus on another area of the mirror, the one where she can see the figure standing in the doorway of her room, through the bathroom door that she left open.

And suddenly she needs to reach for the sink's edge once again, for her knees have never felt weaker. She keeps staring at the reflection, afraid it'll vanish if she turns around.

Lips slightly parted in surprise, her hungry eyes drink in the blond witch's features. Is she real? Has her sister finally come to her? Scorching black meets icy blue. A violent shiver runs through them both, their shared blood calling out.

You're so beautiful.

Bellatrix doesn't realize she's panting, her whole body reverberating with the pounding of her heart. The only thing she's aware of is her need to hug her sister after all the years spent apart, and if she has to crawl over to her feet in order to do that then so be it.

She spins around, trusting her knees with just one whispered word: Cissy.

The affectionate nickname graces her lips but for an instant, for in the blink of an eye it's dead and the doorway empty.

Taken aback, Bellatrix keeps staring at the space Narcissa just left vacant, her vision starting to blur with welling tears.

Why?

Eyes wide, she shakes her head and blinks the hurt away.

Why?

She turns around again.

She looks at herself in the mirror and it's like an invisible veil has been lifted, flowing away with her tears. And there's blood. Crimson streaks are smeared across her face, down her neck, all over her body. Turns out she succeeded in tearing the skin of her forearms apart even with short nails. Her own fingertips drew those lines from there. What was it that they were after? Ah, yes, herself.

She looks insane. She is insane. And she has found what she was looking for.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, pray tell." Snape's deep voice comes out in his most authoritative tone, making her feel like a little girl again, afraid of the punishment that would follow her father's words.

And she falls.

For Hydra: First of all, hi and thank you very much for taking the time to write such an exhaustive comment. You're absolutely right about Bella and Voldemort's relationship, it is indeed incredibly complex and very well crafted (kudos to JK Rowling for that). I agree, Bellatrix is undoubtedly special to her master in a way but I believe him to be the epitome of self-absorption and, as such, I'm sure he would always choose himself over her. While writing the "rejection scene" I had the feeling that I was, in fact, rushing it all a bit too much but for the sake of this story I needed something to wake Bella from her state of blind devotion, also I guessed that at that time he was more preoccupied with numbers, wanting to quickly rebuild a great army... That isn't very smart considering Bella's faithfulness and skills are unique (as you correctly pointed out) but, as we know, Voldemort is easily blinded and he's no stranger to foolish decisions. Maybe you won't continue reading this story but I would like to thank you anyway for reading this far and for leaving your review.

For Taylor: Hi! Thank you so much for reviewing, I definitely look forward to writing more scenes between Narcissa and Bellatrix (still not done with the two of them), hope you won't be disappointed.

Thanks also to the other people who reviewed and to all the silent readers as well.