Author's Note: Wow... It has been quite a bit of time since I have updated this story. I got so caught up in a couple of Dragon Age 2 one-shots, plus I had rather bad bout of writer's block for this chapter. I had everything set up in an outline and the next thing I know my mind lost all cognitive functions for all things Bellamione (It scared me kind of... but never fear I was able to reign in focus once more!) There are a few more things that I am working on as well as this story (A Mass Effect fanfic that I am not posting as of yet... I want it to be really special!) and few other stories, but that is neither here nor there. This chapter may seem a bit muddled to some. But once you read it, you will understand why it is written the way it is (I hope!)... Plus since everyone is probably wondering 'When the bloody hell is Bellatrix showing up in the story?' Well this is the chapter you have been waiting for!
Somewhere in a forest in Wales:
Looking up into the night sky as the stars twinkle in the distance, Bellatrix finally decides to move further out from her hiding spot in search of food. 'That is one problem with magic... you can't make something appear out of bloody air.' The raven-haired witch grumbles to herself. It has been three days and counting since the last meal she has eaten, if you consider several handfuls of berries, a meal. Shaking the weariness off of her body like an old blanket, the witch tries to focus her attention on keeping safe and finding food. Unfortunately for her, the mind is not a particular good listener, at least Bellatrix's isn't anyway.
Swirling images invade the forefront of her mind like a plague. Visions of nights filled with passion and longing with a certain younger brunette witch that was supposed to be the older witch's enemy, but has recently turned to be her only source of comfort. Not that she could personally receive comfort from the young Order member. Bellatrix was crazy not stupid, if she even came with five hundred metres of the mudblood witch she would be dead or placed back in Azkaban... neither of which did she want to happen.
Since the fall of the Dark-Lord, the now retired Death-Eater had decided to flee from the battle while she could, causing herself to have to live on the very fringes of the country away from any form of human interaction. Though to anyone else who this scenario could be forced upon; they would see that going from a life of aristocracy to destituteness would be a horrible fate and would have preferably welcomed the Killing Curse like an old friend. But to Bellatrix the change was refreshing to say the least, minus the foraging for food within a somewhat fruitless forest.
The raven-haired witch had been forced into a life of servitude, to the darkest wizard of their time, by no other than her father, Cygnus. The patriarch of the Black family thought that only through the Dark Arts, would a family as pure as his be able to survive in this society that welcomed muggle-borns with open arms. So, he thrust his eldest daughter into a loveless marriage with another pure-blood and quickly signed her up with Lord Voldemort as soon as she finished her seventh year, causing the young Bellatrix to scorn the life that had been chosen for her. At least for a time anyway. As the years passed by, she had come to terms with that sort of life and began to truly believe that with the Dark-Lord at the helm, the world would bend to their will.
It wasn't until the night at the Department of Mysteries, that the older witch felt her resolve begin to waver. The ferocious spirit that was seen within that muggle-born witch, that tottered about with that Potter boy, had caused something within the Death-Eater's soul to awaken. Thoughts of the young witch would haunt Bellatrix night and day, causing the Death-Eater to think that she might have been cursed with some obsession hex. After a few weeks however, Bellatrix realised that a hex was not the case. She had become quite fascinated with the brunette to the point of longing to see her again, but was worried what problems would arise if she ever let down her defences and allowed anyone else to see what her mind held. She would bury the desire to seek out the young witch deep within herself so no one, not even the Dark-Lord, Himself, could guess how she felt.
After a while, the raven-haired witch put all the emotions she felt behind her as she focused more on the Dark-Lord's objectives than on her seemingly ridiculous fantasies. Only on rare occasions would a memory of curly brown hair invade her thoughts, before it was pushed down into the dark abyss by her own force of will. But now... now, after everything that happened. The final battle, the death of the Dark-Lord, and the over all chaos that had ensued after the light had won; the thoughts ravaged the dark haired witch's mind night and day to the point she could almost smell the hint of vanilla that the younger witch had smelled of that night in the Department of Mysteries.
Everything that Bellatrix felt now was beyond a simple longing, it was as if there was a connection between the two of them. Calling out for the two to become united as one being, and the raven-haired women knew that she was not the only one out of the both of them that had felt it. The feeling of intense longing while she was awake and the torturous state of ultimate completeness at night, only fuelled her desire to find the muggle-born witch. But the main thing that held her back was how to find the young woman and the yearning to know if it really is the work of dream magic pulling their lives together or was there someone out there using Bellatrix's own hidden desires against her. This last notion is what almost drives the older woman to the brink of insanity... night after night, feeling as though someone has thoroughly ravaged her mind, seeking out her innermost secrets and tossing them out for her own personal display. Torturing her ever so slowly with images of things that have never happened and most likely never will. A sick game to break down her resolve and make her beg to be sent back to Azkaban.
Bellatrix shakes her head. 'No... that can not be what is happening here. If the Dark-Lord could not see my sins, what makes me believe that any of those Order gits could? This has to be something different. It feels different... lighter, more inventive. Those sods could barely come up with a proper plan to combat the Dark-Lord, much less think of things that could play off my desires. No. Something else is behind this and I doubt any of that lot would dabble in Dream-weaving. Unless... there are things at work that I know nothing about.' Bellatrix muses as she loses focus on why she had strayed further away from the cave that had become her home.
Under the pale moonlight, the raven-haired witch closes her eyes as she feels the swirling images resurface in her mind. Smiling softly to herself as she envisions the young brunette's smile, she hears the crack of someone Apparating close to where she is standing. "Bloody hell." She mutters to herself, feeling quite ashamed that her musings had dulled her senses. Ducking underneath the branches of a low lying tree, Bellatrix sits and waits for the intruder to reveal themselves.