Author's note:

Hello, there.

First of all, I would like to thank everyone who follows, favourited, and/or reviewed this fanfiction. I really appreciate it. And, for the future, whenever I'm not responding directly to your reviews, it doesn't mean that I don't care – I simply don't know what to say. Just so you know.

Second of all, I'd like to give you some info concerning this ff.
The story will cover the events from the battle in the Department of Mysteries all the way to the battle of Hogwarts (of course ignoring the "19 years later" epilogue). It will focus mainly on Bellatrix and Hermione. Couples, of course, are going to happen. Only on the side, though, since this is no romance-story.

After this chapter, I have no more pre-written ones in store. Meaning I can't promise you frequent updates. I will, however, try my best to keep the waiting to a minimum. I have a general idea where I want to go with this story, as well as some "key moments"already figured out. But how I'll get to those moments or how to connect them, I am not sure myself, as I make most of this stuff up as I go.

In future chapters, if I feel the need to add an author's note, I will put it after the chapters and keep it as brief as possible.

Alright, I think that was enough rambling on my part. So without further ado, I present to you:

Bloodlust – Chapter two: Vampire

When Bellatrix woke up again her head was throbbing painfully. In fact, her whole body was. A burning sensation seared its way through her veins with every beat of her heart. Her throat felt dry and an almost unbearable thirst plagued her. She hated that feeling. It made her feel weak.

With a groan she opened her eyes and sat up, letting her gaze roam the room she was in. It was quite small and pitch black, yet she could see perfectly. The walls were made of thick stone. The door seemed very sturdy, likely to withstand a great deal of force. The air was damp and cold. It didn't bother her, however.

Her wandering eyes stopped when they met another's. For a few seconds they just stared at each other.
She knew him. She remembered them – those piercing yellow eyes. It was the man she'd sought out to get information. She recalled talking to him, almost acquiring the knowledge she was desperate to find. She remembered an explosion and then…

Slowly, she moved her hand to her neck, not exactly sure why, though.

The man in front of her gave her a weary and compassionate smile.
"Welcome back to the world of the living," he calmly said in a gentle voice, stood up and walked over, sitting down on the edge of her bed, "how are you feeling?"

"I—," Bellatrix flinched at her own voice. It was rough and dry, scratching painfully in her throat. She slung one hand around it and coughed a few times.

"Here. Drink that," the vampire said soothingly as he gently stroked her back and offered her a chalice, holding a thick red liquid. She took the cup and eyed the substance warily. By its smell she could already determine what it was. Her mouth started to water and she licked her lips, eager to taste the unusual drink.

Her hands began to shake and in the next moment her mind blacked out for a second, as desire overwhelmed her. The witch put the mug to her mouth and eagerly gulped down its delicious content. A sensation she'd never felt before engulfed her entire body; the metallic taste of the unfamiliar beverage almost drove her mad with pleasure.

As Bellatrix enjoyed the very last drop of her drink, a satisfied moan left her throat. She let the cup fall to the ground, her thirst quenched, yet craving for more.
Again she scarcely touched her neck, remembering now what had happened, "So, I am a vampire now."

"Yes," he spoke in a low voice as he took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently. The raven haired woman led her gaze towards him and narrowed her eyes. She could've been mistaken but she thought she saw regret in his downcast eyes.

The witch frowned as she took her eyes off him, staring straight at the wall but not really seeing it. Crestfallen she sunk her head, sighing weakly. "I am a vampire," she muttered while her gaze was locked on her unhealthily pale left hand. "Why?" she desperately questioned no one in particular and brought her palm to cover half her face. "Why?" she repeated, voice quivering as tears prickled the corner of her eyes.

A moment later a heartbreaking cry resounded in the small room. Bellatrix let herself fall back into the bed, the tears now running down freely. Her hand now covered both her eyes; sobs were shaking her body. She was a vampire. A monster. Not human anymore. Not... pure. And she would never again be.
The thought made her sick. Anger rose inside of her. She shot upwards into a seating position, ready to rain down hellfire on him when she felt a light squeeze on her right hand, which, she now realised, he was still holding.

Infuriated, she wanted to pull away, but instead, to her own bewilderment, she returned the squeeze, held on tight to the man's cool hand. The witch couldn't quite explain it, but from his skin, despite being cold to the touch, radiated a warmth and familiarity, that eased the tension in her body. The gentle strokes of his thumb across the back of her hand gradually soothed the ire within her. Her wrath completely forgotten, she stared down at their interlocked hands, tightening her grip even further. When she spoke, her words were quiet and drained of any emotion.

"Why did you do this to me?"

The man suddenly stopped his tender caress, what, to her great dismay, unsettled the witch a little bit. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes in the process, only to reopen them to stare at their joint hands as well.

"I don't know," he confessed, letting go of Bellatrix. A displeased growl formed in her stomach but she managed to hold it back. "Usually, I don't concern myself with the lives of others – especially when they're human," the vampire continued and focused his gaze now directly on her, "but when I saw you lying there, impaled by that stake and slowly bleeding out, I just couldn't let you die."

The witch nodded slightly and locked eyes with the man afterwards.
"And what made you think that I wouldn't prefer being dead, over becoming AN ABOMINATION LIKE THIS?!" With every word her voice grew louder. Her nostrils flared and her eyes burned with fury.

"Because you said so," he calmly replied, not even fazed in the slightest by her outburst of anger, "well, you probably might've been a bit delusional at the time, given the aforementioned blood loss. But when I asked if you wanted to live, you clearly said 'yes'." Images of her pierced, bleeding abdomen flashed through her mind, as did his muffled question and her croaked answer.

"I remember," she admitted begrudgingly, her face still distorted in ire.

"Look, if there'd been any other option, I would've taken it, but there wasn't. You were dying and I had to make a decision." He snorted disdainfully. "I even had to bargain for your survival with those dastardly Aurors, if you'd imagine."

Bellatrix visibly flinched and widened her eyes.

"Aurors?" she breathed aggravated as anger welled up inside her once again, her breathing gradually accelerating. She felt the vampire's smooth skin, as he retook her hand and gave a gentle squeeze. The witch immediately calmed down and held on tight to the man's hand.

"So, I assume I am in Azkaban, then," she concluded and sighed exasperated, glancing at her companion. He nodded reservedly.

"I'm sorry. Their one condition was to lock you up in here," the man explained ruefully and narrowed his lids in detest, "and I had no choice but to accept."

"I see," she whispered in acceptance of her fate. "But why does it bother you so much?" the witch curiously asked a few seconds later, as she could feel his distress through their touching hands.

"Because..." He shot her a dark look, his uneasiness intensifying and starting to affect her own emotional state. "...normally, I would never allow any human to interfere with vampire business." The way he said the word 'human' sent a shiver down her spine. "We have our own court, our own council to judge our crimes," he continued in ever rising anger, but then he took a deep breath and forced all the negativity inside him into his subconscious, before he calmly went on, "but since your crimes were committed when you were still human, they demanded you stand trial before their court." He made a spitting sound, obviously disgusted. "And by that they meant to have you sentenced to a lifetime in this hellhole."

"Well, it doesn't really matter," she responded confidently, earning a surprised look from the vampire. "You said it yourself, didn't you?" Bellatrix haughtily regarded the man beside her, "all I need to have right now is patience." He smiled at her, ready to agree. "The Dark Lord will come to free me before too long." And his face dropped again; an annoyed groan left his throat.

"Right, I guess he will," he muttered monotonous and let go of the raven haired woman. Immediately, a pang of loneliness surged through her body and she felt the urge to reach out and recapture his hand, but she managed to hold herself back.

What is wrong with me?

That thought had crossed her mind several times since she woke up. She couldn't explain what was happening to her. Whenever he held her hand she felt safe, calm, and comfortable – her actual feelings completely snuffed out. But as soon as he let go of her, all the hate and ire came rushing back, with a strong side of loneliness and abandonment.

Even now she could clearly feel it, the burning wrath towards the man who got her into this mess, who turned her into this monster. And yet she also felt this unfathomably heart aching desire to be with him, to stay by his side, to have him wrap his arms around her and never let go.

She hated this feeling; it was disgusting.

While she was dealing with her internal struggle, the vampire stood up.

"In that box over there are a few blood vials," he told her and pointed at a cooling box in one of the room's corners, while he gradually made his way to the door, "they should last for about a month."

She nodded her understanding as she watched him walk to the exit, an unsettled expression on her face. The witch knew he was about to leave, and again she was plagued by her contradicting emotions. Her head wanted him to go; her heart wanted him to stay.
In the end she listened to her brain, agreeing with herself that her heart's desires would make her appear weak – and that, she couldn't allow.

"Whenever you need to restock your supplies, you only need to say so," the man explained and gestured to the door, "one of my servants is standing guard right outside. As soon as you voice your demand for blood, he will see to it." Bellatrix gave a court nod to acknowledge his statement.
The corner of his mouth was shortly tugged upwards into a mirthless smile before he opened the cell to step outside.

"Wait!" the witch yelped, hating herself for doing so. Hadn't she just decided that she wouldn't give in to her heart? Whatever, she thought and shook her head. She'd allow herself one last moment of weakness. "When..." Oh, how pathetic her voice sounded. "When will I see you again?"

He turned back to her, this time a genuine smile on his lips.

"When you get out of here," he simply stated and walked outside. She heard the door's lock fall into place, steps moving away from her compartment, and then... silence.

Bellatrix sighed exhaustedly and lay back into her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

So, now I wait. She turned to her side and hugged her knees close to her chest.

"My Lord," she murmured pleadingly, "please, don't take too long."

*Drip... Drip... Drip...*

She was bored.

*Drip... Drip... Drip...*

Watching those water drops didn't help.

*Drip... Drip... Drip...*

Somehow it felt as if the droplets were mocking her. She narrowed her eyes.

*Drip... Drip...*

Silence...

Bellatrix perked her head, looking up to the ceiling from where the water had dripped down until a second ago. The stone was still wet, but not enough to produce drops.

Guess it stopped raining, for a change, she mused, placing her head back on the makeshift pillow. Of course, she couldn't tell exactly, since she was cooped up in solitary confinement – no windows to the outside world, no contact to anyone, whatsoever. Her only companion was a, as she deduced, mute guard standing outside her cell, providing her with bottles of blood whenever she needed them.

Well, and the Dementors, naturally – although they never really concerned themselves with her. She only ever noticed their presence when the thin water-film on the walls and ceiling froze over, and the rapid drop in temperature. But, mostly, they just left her alone. They never even tried to feed off of her memories, and since, as a vampiress, the cold didn't bother her anyway, she never gave the eerie creatures much of a thought. The perks of being a vampire, she guessed.

With a deep sigh the witch rolled over and stared blankly at the cold stone wall.
How much longer did she have to wait? How long until she could walk free again? She'd been locked up in this hole for so long now; that she hasn't gone insane yet was a miracle even to her.

Bellatrix guided her longing gaze towards the door. How much she'd love to just rip it out of its hinges and leave. Countless times she had attempted, but never gone through with it. Something deep inside her held her back every single time she'd tried to break free. It was frustrating.

*Drip... Drip... Drip...*

"Urgh!" another displeased groan left the raven haired woman's throat. Now those dreadful droplets were back. Aggravated she rubbed her face and dug her nails into her pale skin. She dropped her arms to her side as she heard a low rumbling in the distance.

So, it's a tempest this time. How thrilling, the witch thought sarcastically and rolled her eyes for good measure.

The rumbling grew louder.

A very fast tempest.

Bellatrix stood up and raised an eyebrow. She wanted to move towards the outer wall to put her ear against it, in order to better hear the outside noises. But a wary feeling told her to stay away instead – and the feeling didn't betray her. Only seconds after her decision was made, a blinding lightning bolt crashed into the cold stone wall, blasting a hole into it.

The vampiress stared wide eyed at the freshly created opening. The cool sea breeze slapped her cheeks and made its way into her lung, as she drew a deep breath. Slowly, she walked over to the edge and looked down, watching the last pieces of debris fall into the waves beneath her.

A maniacal cackle built inside her, which she gleefully let out as loud as she could, bending backwards as far as her spine would allow it.

The ice-cold raindrops, because of the Dementors more like ice-needles now, stabbed at her skin, almost breaking it. But she didn't mind. Right now, there was nothing that could bring her down, nothing to spoil her mood.

Only one thing mattered now:

She was free!

She took a deep breath to calm her rebelling stomach after experiencing the sudden feeling of being pressed through a tube. After not having apparated for such a long time it was logical that her body would need time to adjust to it again. She really didn't look forward to the next few times. She had always hated the feeling, even when she'd been used to it. But now it was even more intense than ever. The witch growled in dissatisfaction.

Yet, the next second her gut churned not of discomfort, but anticipation. What brought the sudden change was the sight of Malfoy-Manor – her sister's home. And, of course, the place where she would meet her Lord again.

With a renewed eagerness she quickened her step, when she heard loud cracking sounds, announcing the arrival of her fellow inmates. The witch turned around and looked them over. They were disgusting, to say the least. Their dirty, unkempt hair was sticking to their pale, starved faces. Their eyes were hollow, robbed of all liveliness and vigour they might have once possessed. Their weak legs slowly carried them towards the mansion, looking as if the ragged clothes dragged them down even further. All in all, they looked more dead than alive – and almost smelled the part, too. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"So, they caught you after all, huh," sounded a gruff voice behind her. A voice she only knew too well.

"Unfortunately," Bellatrix replied slowly as she turned around and locked eyes with her husband, Rodolphus.

He looked her up and down.
To say she looked astounding would've been an understatement. Despite wearing the same dirty and rotten clothes as everyone else, she still held herself with grace and superiority – and an air of royalty. Her skin looked unfazed by the hardships of prison-life – smooth and fare. The black curls on her head, though unkempt, looked like the finest silk and shone beautifully in the moonlight.
"Couldn't have been a long stay," he muttered displeased with her flawless appearance.

"Long enough," she simply replied dryly and resumed her walk towards the mansion.

Being the first to reach the giant house Bellatrix, in disregard of all courtesy, threw open the huge double door and stepped into the opulent entrance hall. The sight was truly magnificent, but what caught the dark witch's eye first was none other than the Lady of the house herself. There she stood, Narcissa Malfoy, her blonde hair glistening so beautifully in the lighting of the mansion, that it would put any gold-accessory to shame. Her posture was upright and her clothes elegant – a picture of true aristocracy.

A warm smile laid itself on Bellatrix' lips as she gradually closed in to her sister. The noble woman tried her hardest to keep her gallant demeanour but when Bellatrix was only an arm's length away, the refined mask broke and she pulled her eldest sister into a crushing embrace. The vampiress immediately returned the gesture. Lucius, who stood beside the two, smiled briefly at his wife's joy and then went to greet the other Death Eaters, and give the siblings some privacy.

"I've missed you, Cissy," Bellatrix said huskily, squeezing her sister tighter.

"I missed you, too, Bella," she returned and loosened the embrace, "it must have been horrible spending all those years in Azkaban. How are you feeling? Let me look at you." Narcissa took Bella's face in her hands and examined her intently. A curious and worried frown built on her face. "You're ice cold," the blonde wondered out loud and the dark witch's stomach churned, "and you haven't aged a day."

"Well," Bellatrix started a little uneasy, "I suppose true beauty never withers." She withdrew from her sister's touch and managed a weary smile, to which the younger woman only raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it doesn't matter right now," Narcissa concluded, as she saw that her husband led the other Death Eaters out of the room, "let's get you out of these filthy rags and into proper attire." She pulled Bellatrix with her into another direction the others had gone. "The Dark Lord awaits," she added as they walked through a corridor.

The vampire's stomach churned again, this time in anticipation. The Dark Lord was waiting. She would finally see him again after all these dreadful years.

But she couldn't further knit her thoughts as she was pushed into a glamorous room.

"There is an adjacent bathroom for you to wash up back there and your clothes are laid out on the bed. I will send a house-elf to help you freshen up and get dressed," Narcissa declared in an imperious voice.

"No, Cissy, that's not—," the elder sister started in a slight panic but the blonde had already left the room and closed the doors behind her.

Not a second later, with a cracking sound, an elf appeared right in front of her. She knew those big, light green eyes, the wobbly ears and the long, beak-like nose of the creature before her.
"Welcome back, Mistress Bellatrix," the elf happily squeaked with a bright smile, bowing deeply to her superior, "Binny is very delighted to sees Mistress is well." Bellatrix smiled at the small figure to her feet. Despite being an inferior creature, she'd always been quite fond of the elf.

"Good to see you, too, Binny." The little servant gave a squeal and beamed even brighter.

"Now come, Mistress. Binny will gets you clean again," the little elf chattered on cheerily and took Bellatrix by the hand, dragging her towards the bathroom as she tore away the rugged robe covering the witch's body with a swish of her other hand. She proceeded to drag the now bare woman along and put her into the already drawn bath. The hot water embraced the dark witch. She closed her eyes as the elf tended to her hair.
Only a few minutes later Binny happily announced that she was finished washing her and, after drying the vampiress' body, ushered her back into the guest room to dress her. The elf led her Mistress to the mirror and immediately went to pick up the dress.

"Binny, you don't have to—" the witch tried to stop her servant, but she'd already returned with the clothes.

"Yes, Binny haves to," the elf squeaked mirthfully and let the dress float in front of Bellatrix, "it is Binny's greatest honour to assists—"

The little creature broke off midsentence, when she noticed that the only reflection, she saw in the mirror, was her own.
The already big eyes of the little house-elf widened even further as understanding dawned on her. A few times she looked back and forth between her Mistress and the mirror. Bellatrix, meanwhile, eyed her warily, for she didn't know how she would react. Would she run off in panic? Yell? Alarm everyone in the house that a monster was present?

"Why haven't you saids something, Mistress?" Binny asked incredulously, staring at the raven-haired witch.

Bellatrix hesitated for a moment before she answered monotonously, "I didn't want anyone to know." She bent down and gazed at her servant intently, almost menacingly. "And you can't tell anyone, either. Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," the elf replied and bowed her head.

"Good. Now, dress me," the vampiress commanded imperiously and stretched her arms out, to give her servant better access.

"Of course, Mistress." And the elf proceeded with her task, not speaking another word.

Not much later Bellatrix strutted down the hall again, fully dressed and styled to perfection. She pushed open the door to the sitting room where the other Death Eaters already waited. They'd been groomed as well and appeared at least close to what a living human being should look like.

But there was no time to think about it further, as another set of doors swung open. A big snake slithered its way in, closely followed by none other than Lord Voldemort. Elegantly, almost like a snake himself, he entered the room and scanned the occupants with his gleaming red eyes – his pale, snake-like features looking as eerie as ever.

The former prisoners all lined up promptly and bowed deeply to their Master in obedience.

"Rise, my friends," he spoke in a smooth voice and they followed immediately as the dark wizard walked closer. "Let me first convey my deepest gratitude to you," the Dark Lord continued with a, what he clearly thought was a grateful smile, "your level of loyalty impresses me immensely. You never strayed from your way, even endured the horrors of Azkaban, faithfully awaiting my return." He started walking down the line of his followers. "Your loyalty will be greatly rewarded."

As he reached Bellatrix she stared directly into his eyes, her own shining in adoration. But he only narrowed his lids and stepped a little closer. Not feeling able to bear the intensity of his gaze, the dark witch quickly bowed her head again. Bony fingers pressed forcefully into her cheeks as the Dark Lord yanked her face upwards. Yet more intently he peered at her.

The witch's heart started to race, out of both excitement and panic.

Did he know? Had he already found out? How would he react, if he had? Or was he just pleased to see her?

But those questions were answered when he roughly pushed her away with an expression of utter disgust on his face.

"It would seem, my friends," he raised his voice, not averting his disdainful eyes from Bellatrix for even a second, "that filth has found its way into our midst." Confused and uncertain murmur sounded through the hall as everyone in the room looked at Bellatrix.
"By the looks of it," Voldemort continued in his smooth voice, "our dear Bellatrix has come into touch with a most loathsome creature – a vampire."

Shocked gasps resulted of his words. The loudest and most noticeable to the dark witch came from none other than her own sister. Hesitantly she took a peek at the blonde, and what she saw almost broke her heart. Narcissa's gaze lay on her, a hand covering her mouth, her eyes filled with tears and contempt; her own eyes welling up as well, Bellatrix let her head sink.

"We have no place for filth like you within our ranks," the Dark Lord once more raised his voice, now cold and harsh, as the Death Eaters surrounded the vampiress. Her eyes widened in unease as she looked at Voldemort.

"But... my Lord," she croaked weakly.

"Silence!" he hissed, cutting her off and raised his wand, "I will now dispose of this abomination." Bellatrix's eyes widened even further as he pointed his wand to her chest. For a brief moment, the whole room fell into silence.

"Avada Kedavra!"

She saw a green flash, heard the snickers of her Lord's followers and felt her mind fade into darkness, as the life left her body.