Bellatrix makes a mistake.
TW: dubious consent.
Chapter Seven: A Tale of Loyalty
July 1970,
In the living room of Black Manor, an unusual astonishment adorned the faces of each of its occupants. The eyes of Narcissa, Andromeda, Rabastan, Sirius, and Regulus were fixed on the couple standing before them. Only Rodolphus, standing facing his wife, seemed to be in the grip of great anger. He held Bellatrix's arm in his hand, the sleeve pulled up to the elbow revealing the Dark Mark in broad daylight.
"Since when have you been in his service?" he spat out angrily.
Bellatrix met his gaze defiantly, briskly pulled her arm away, and pulled down the sleeve to cover her tattoo. She shot a dark look at her ten-year-old cousin Sirius, who still looked at her arm with a mixture of surprise and horror. It was his fault that the Concealment Charm keeping her mark hidden had stopped working: the young boy had found it amusing to distribute Zonko's hats to Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda, hats that changed the hair colour of those who wore them. Bellatrix had found it quite funny, noticing Narcissa's red hair, Andromeda's blueish hue, and her own bright green until the magic enchanting the hat interfered with her own Concealment Charm. As Bellatrix removed her hat, her sleeve had slipped, revealing the Dark Mark. Rodolphus had immediately noticed it.
"Answer me, Bellatrix!" he exclaimed again, his eyes almost wild.
"You can ask the Dark Lord yourself," Bellatrix replied coldly.
"What's that?" innocently asked Regulus, before grabbing his cousin's arm to inspect the tattoo design.
Annoyed, Bellatrix roughly pushed him away.
"It's pretty," remarked Regulus, unfazed by Bellatrix's reaction, "what do you think, Sirius?"
The boy just shrugged without replying. Bellatrix turned to her two silent sisters. Narcissa seemed pensive, continually alternating her gaze between Rodolphus and Bellatrix. Andromeda, on the other hand, looked at Bellatrix with a heavy heart. Rabastan let out a slight chuckle.
"I don't see what the problem is," he said, "everyone should join the ranks of the Dark Lord! I myself became a Death Eater last week..."
Andromeda gasped in surprise. She seemed shocked by this new revelation but quickly turned her gaze back to her sister.
"Bella..." she whispered, her eyes filled with sadness, "do you realise what this means for you? For your life?"
"Of course I do... It has always been my greatest wish."
"But-"
"I'm not implying it's a bad idea," Rodolphus interrupted, "but I could have been informed! I am your husband after all!"
"You are my husband because the Dark Lord ordered it!" retorted Bellatrix fiercely. "I would never have married otherwise! I will obey no one but him!"
"What? Since when are you a Death Eater, by Merlin?" demanded Rodolphus, "did this happen before our marriage?"
"Yes, Rodolphus, before..." admitted Bellatrix with a venomous smile, "I was his before I was yours."
In every sense of the word, thought Bellatrix with amusement. The wording chosen by his wife did not leave Rodolphus indifferent. He looked at her with astonishment.
"How could I have missed that... You're never there during our meetings! You've never been summoned before me..."
At these words, Bellatrix felt her heart beat faster.
"He didn't want me to say... I don't think I'm the only Death Eater he's trying to hide given the masks we use. Which probably means I've just made a mistake..."
A slight smirk stretched Rodolphus's lips.
"Probably," he admitted, "being a Death Eater isn't something you improvise... You don't seem to be the most accomplished Death Eater."
Bellatrix just gave him a dark look before sitting heavily on her chair. She feared she had made a grave mistake... What could she do to avoid worsening the situation?
"You should tell him soon," Rodolphus suddenly advised, "he always knows when we're hiding something..."
Bellatrix nodded without answering. She thought, almost despite herself, that sharing this Death Eater experience with her husband might be a good thing after all. The young woman considered that it was now time to leave the Black house: she had come for Andromeda's birthday, who had just finished her sixth year at Hogwarts. She draped herself in her cloak and was about to leave when Andromeda interrupted her:
"Bellatrix, can I talk to you?"
The young girl had slightly widened eyes, clenched fists, and a stern expression, which convinced Bellatrix to agree. She followed her upstairs to her room. Bellatrix had never liked Andromeda's room: it was decorated far too extravagantly for her taste. She noticed a plastic bag on the bed and approached it with curiosity.
"Don't touch it!" hissed Andromeda.
A shocked gasp met her. Bellatrix held in her hands a raw denim jean from a Muggle production. She dropped the garment with a disgusted air, which fell stiffly onto the bed.
"Andromeda, there's a Muggle garment on your bed," Bellatrix commented perplexedly as if it were a mop covered in mud.
"I'm aware, thank you," retorted Andromeda, with a pinched expression.
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.
"Care to explain?"
"Oh, leave it, Bella, it's just a pair of jeans, much more practical than the robes we're forced to wear."
"Hmm, hmm..."
"Forget it," insisted Andromeda before hiding the jeans under the bedspread.
Bellatrix continued to look at her sister with a disheartened air then rolled her eyes.
"Whatever... What did you want to tell me?"
Andromeda approached her sister and looked at her gravely.
"Bella... I know your life has changed a lot since you left but you don't have to prove anything to Rodolphus or anyone else."
"Exactly, I have nothing to prove to Rodolphus... Where are you going with this?"
"You're a Death Eater! And believe me, I know what that means. At Hogwarts, everyone talks about it... You're risking your life and others' lives for a cause you don't even fully believe in!"
"I don't have to justify myself, Dromeda, and I assure you my decision is entirely thought out," Bellatrix said, frowning.
Andromeda, almost trembling, seized her sister's hands.
"Bella, I don't think the Dark Lord is a trustworthy man, he will lead our world to its destruction."
The young Death Eater abruptly withdrew her hands and glared at her sister.
"You don't even know him!" she hissed acrimoniously, "he's by far the most powerful wizard I've ever met in my life and what he believes in completely aligns with my ideals. You're just a spoiled, naive, ignorant little girl, you have no idea what you're talking about."
"Ok, ok, maybe!" exclaimed Andromeda, hands raised in surrender, "but you could very well be like Mum and Dad, support his ideals without necessarily serving him. I just think you made this decision to prove something when you have absolutely nothing to prove to anyone!"
Tears welled up in the young girl's eyes now. Bellatrix regarded her with a mixture of anger, pity, and disgust. She seemed on the verge of slapping her. Yet, it was with an odd gentleness that Bellatrix invited Andromeda to sit on the bed.
"Dromeda, I realise you don't know me very well. I've never had any other dream in my life than to become a Death Eater. But how could you know? I've never told you..."
"Told me what?"
Bellatrix sat down as well.
"The day I met him, my whole world changed. I was finally given a way out. I was not yet fourteen when I first saw him, but already the conviction to serve him had settled in. It wasn't a whim or a childish dream but a true calling. He opened my eyes. All the anxieties I had about assuming the role of a high-ranking married woman, with screaming brats, disappeared. I found myself facing my destiny, do you understand?" explained Bellatrix with passionate intensity.
Andromeda regarded her with caution.
"When did you first meet him?" she asked in a low voice as if to mitigate the horror she felt.
"At Grimmauld Square, on the day of my engagement," she replied in a sardonic tone.
Andromeda recalled that day but did not remember the presence of the Dark Lord at her uncle and aunt's home.
"He left very quickly," Bellatrix explained, as if reading her thoughts.
"And since that moment, you've dreamt of becoming a Death Eater?" Andromeda asked, still surprised.
"Yes... and my dream became a reality. It wasn't easy, believe me, but I am now the only woman in his service."
A disturbing smile lit up Bellatrix's face.
"I've never spoken of this before," she added with amusement.
For a long moment, Andromeda stared at her sister as if seeing her for the first time.
"Are you happy?" she finally inquired.
It was Bellatrix who seized her little sister's hands this time. With pride and sparkling eyes, she replied:
"Yes, my dear little sister, yes, I am happy."
XxXxXxX
"Ah, Bellatrix."
Lord Voldemort sat at the end of a very long solid wood table. There was no one else around the table but the heady smell of Firewhisky and pipes still lingered in the air. She knew a meeting had just taken place because Rodolphus had been summoned late in the evening. Except this time, Rodolphus had agreed to speak to the Dark Lord at the end of the meeting to inform him that he had accidentally discovered Bellatrix's Mark two days earlier.
"I have come to offer my apologies, Master."
With a wave of his hand, Lord Voldemort pushed back the heavy wooden chair to his right. Bellatrix understood the message and took a seat, just a few inches from her master. The gaze he fixed on her was relentless.
"What caused the Concealment Charm to malfunction?" he asked in a neutral tone.
"A Zonko's enchanted hat," Bellatrix immediately replied, "it was a gift from my cousin for my sister's birthday."
"You will bring me one of these hats," he ordered, "I need to understand what could have gone wrong with my Concealment Charm."
Bellatrix nodded.
"Of course, Master."
"I cannot afford to have all my Death Eaters discovered," he explained coldly.
"Master, I am deeply sorry," murmured Bellatrix, her throat tight.
"Who knows about your status as a Death Eater?"
"Rodolphus, of course, Rabastan, my sisters, and my young cousins, Sirius and Regulus."
"What does Rodolphus think of all this?"
Bellatrix was somewhat surprised by this question.
"He... he was shocked, but I think he has come to terms with it," she replied hesitantly.
Lord Voldemort cast a long, cold, calculating gaze upon Bellatrix. The young woman didn't know what to think – she had feared the Dark Lord's reaction, but hadn't thought it would pose such a problem. Wasn't it just a matter of weeks before the world became aware of the Dark Lord's plans and his servants?
"Does he know what happened in your room on the night of your wedding?"
"No, Master," Bellatrix replied, her heart pounding.
She stared into her master's closed-off face. It was the first time he referred to that night they spent together a year ago.
"He must never know, Bellatrix... It would be very uncomfortable for me to see a scandal erupt within my ranks, especially within the Lestrange family, which boasts no fewer than four wizards in my service."
"Of course, Master, I never intended to divulge anything."
"You will be of relative usefulness now that your identity is revealed, just another Death Eater," admitted Lord Voldemort acidly.
Bellatrix's heart shattered into a thousand pieces. The disappointment she could hear in her master's voice was worse than all the Cruciatus curses in the world. She didn't know what to say, as she struggled to keep herself from crying in front of him.
"Did you consummate your marriage?"
Sadness now mingled with shock. What did he want?
"Yes..."
It was undoubtedly the strangest exchange she had ever had with her master.
"Hence the sterilisation potion, I imagine. Did you want him to know you were in my service?"
"NO!" exclaimed the young girl forcefully.
Lord Voldemort remained silent for long seconds before finally rising noiselessly.
"You may leave," he said at last.
"Master, I beg you, forgive me, I never meant to disobey you..." pleaded Bellatrix, tears streaming down her face.
"Go home, Bellatrix."
For what felt like an eternity, Bellatrix couldn't tear her gaze away from the door through which Lord Voldemort had vanished. Her body convulsed with sobs as she struggled to rein in her tears and regulate her erratic breathing. Her heart blazed with disbelief that her Master could doubt her loyalty even for a moment. Driven by an overpowering impulse, she crossed the room and swung open the door he had just passed through. Stepping into the corridor beyond, illuminated by flickering torchlight, she heard the echo of her own footsteps against the cold stone walls. She came to an abrupt halt, realising she couldn't bear to face what lay ahead. With a desperate resolve, she Disapparated, seeking solace in the familiar confines of Lestrange Manor.
XxXxXxX
A month later,
The Death Eaters had been summoned, including Bellatrix. Without her mask, she took her place around the long wooden table like the others. Lord Voldemort presided at the head of the table, flanked on his right by Enguerrand Avery and on his left by Reginaldus Lestrange. Next to Reginaldus sat Ennius Rosier, followed by other older Death Eaters. With a pang of sadness, Bellatrix noticed she was seated almost opposite to Lord Voldemort, between Rabastan and a man with a strong Slavic accent whenever he spoke. Rodolphus was on Voldemort's right side, a few seats after his father, Reginaldus.
Bellatrix didn't know all the men present that evening. Some were fresh out of Hogwarts, others from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. The older ones were seated closer to Voldemort, the younger ones at the other end of the table. In the hierarchy established by the Dark Lord, Bellatrix now knew her place. She sat after Rabastan, who had only been in Voldemort's service for a month. After the man with the Slavic accent, there was only emptiness. The table ended there. Across from her, a small man with a bewildered look never took his eyes off his hands. He hadn't spoken a word throughout the meeting. Bellatrix felt humiliated.
After a few reports from various Death Eaters, during which Lord Voldemort remained largely silent, a wizard named Ethan Rosier spoke up. Bellatrix knew him well - he had been at Hogwarts at the same time as her but was three years older. He had just completed his training as an Auror at the Ministry of Magic and acted as an informant.
"Master, I have new information regarding Igor Maggins."
Bellatrix turned her gaze to Lord Voldemort. He was impassive.
"He has been on leave for the past few months following the death of his daughter, but since his return three weeks ago, he has been constantly alerting the entire department about your impending rise, Master. He is uncontrollable and now refuses to cooperate."
"I must admit, such a turn of events was predictable - he's a Gryffindor after all, he prefers action over protecting what's left of his family..."
The Dark Lord remained silent for a few moments, contemplative.
"Now that his uselessness is established, I want you, Rabastan, and Bellatrix to finish the job. The woman, parents, grandparents. Everyone. When it's done, you will bring him to me personally."
"Very well, Master," Rosier replied.
Bellatrix felt Rabastan shoot her an insistent look. The young Death Eater had just received his first mission. He was ecstatic. The other Death Eaters looked at Bellatrix with suspicion. Sending a woman to carry out a raid mission must have seemed rather incongruous to them. Lord Voldemort, however, didn't spare her a glance. He issued a few final directives and adjourned the meeting. The Death Eaters began to Disapparate without delay. Bellatrix watched him disappear behind the large wooden door once again, then Disapparated herself, her heart crushed and her ego bruised.
XxXxXxX
"Bellatrix... Calm down," sighed Rodolphus in a sleepy voice.
They had been in bed for over an hour, but Bellatrix couldn't find sleep. The meeting kept replaying in her head. The way Lord Voldemort had ignored her terrified her. Until April, she had thought she had lost her master's favour and had felt neglected and abandoned. She now knew it wasn't true. When Lord Voldemort punished his servants, he didn't just ignore them – he made sure to humiliate them thoroughly, showing them how much they had fallen in his esteem. Bellatrix didn't want to be the side-lined Death Eater, the one sent to the front lines whose opinions, life, or power held no appeal. She dreamed of being in Reginaldus Lestrange's or Enguerrand Avery's place, sitting beside the Dark Lord, someone whose advice and counsel he would respect.
Rodolphus himself had faced the test of proving his worth. For a long time, he had been dispatched on perilous yet less strategically intricate missions. But now, he had finally earned his master's trust. Bellatrix seethed with envy at his accomplishment.
"You couldn't possibly think he would let your mistake slide so easily," he continued when he realised Bellatrix was far from being calmed.
She kept sighing and tossing in bed.
"Oh! Of course, now it's my mistake! You should have kept your dirty hands off me. Besides, if I wasn't married to you, I wouldn't have had all these problems. I would have become a Death Eater on my own terms, and that would have been all I had to worry about. I wouldn't have had to put up with a dim-witted and unattractive ball and chain like you!"
There was silence after this fiery tirade, then Rodolphus burst into laughter. Bellatrix and her melodramas had always been one of his favourite pastimes.
"I'm warning you, if you don't stop right now, I'll throw you out of bed!" she threatened, outraged that he dared to mock her.
"Bella..." he mumbled as his hands wrapped around her waist, "everything will be fine. The mission he gave you is just a formality, and he'll forgive you soon enough, you'll see. He's strict but not resentful."
"It's not just that... Did you see how those idiots looked at me? It was like I was the first girl they'd ever seen."
"You can't expect them to welcome you with open arms," Rodolphus tempered, "they're not used to seeing a fury like you..."
Bellatrix pinched his arm.
"Mmh... Go on, it's been a while since you've taken care of me..." he moaned before placing a kiss on her neck.
"Oh, let go of me!"
With those words, Bellatrix got up and put on her robe.
"Where are you going?" he grumbled.
"To my room, and don't even think about coming if you don't want to lose a testicle... or even both!"
The bedroom door closed with a sharp snap. Rodolphus laughed again and fell asleep.
XxXxXxX
The mission didn't go as planned. Ethan Rosier was more than dismayed at the thought of collaborating with a woman and kept giving her orders: "Stay back!", "I'll handle this, you just stay put and don't move," "Let the men handle it, Bellatrix, I don't want your husband breathing down my neck." Rabastan, on the other hand, was so euphoric that he only heard half of what was being said to him. In the end, the family was killed as planned – it wasn't complicated because they were all Muggles, but Igor Maggins managed to escape.
Once again, Bellatrix found herself facing her Master in this grand reception hall that she was beginning to despise. Ethan and Rabastan flanked her. Rodolphus's younger brother remained silent, too ashamed of their failed mission, but Ethan kept talking and blamed Bellatrix for everything.
"She wouldn't listen to me, Master!" exclaimed Ethan indignantly. "I told her not to move! In the end, Igor Maggins was able to escape because she wasn't standing in front of the entrance to stop him from leaving, like I told her to."
"Rosier, the only reason Maggins got away is because you were too incompetent to neutralise him. If you had let me handle it, it would've taken me just a few seconds to stun that idiot Gryffindor!"
"Shut up, Lestrange! You're not in a position to speak here!"
Consumed by rage, Bellatrix drew her wand and sent Rosier flying to the other end of the room. His head slammed against a corner of the table, and he passed out.
"Revive him," Lord Voldemort ordered immediately, his voice cold.
"Master-"
"Revive him!" he exclaimed, his voice loud and clear.
Bellatrix swallowed hard and hurried to the body lying on the floor to revive him.
"Take him home, Rabastan," she heard him say to the young Lestrange.
Rodolphus's younger brother approached her, giving her a sympathetic look, but too relieved to escape punishment, wasted no time. He grabbed Rosier's wrist and Disapparated. Out of breath, Bellatrix dared not turn to her Master. It seemed to her that she had only been disappointing him lately, but it was so unfair: none of this was her fault!
"Are you proud of yourself, Bellatrix?"
The young girl turned sharply to her Master.
"Master, I would have completed this mission smoothly if Rosier hadn't prevented me from acting."
"It wasn't your mission but Ethan's – you were only there as backup, but it seems that was already too complicated for you."
"Master, this isn't fair, I have always successfully carried out the missions you have entrusted to me," Bellatrix defended herself.
He approached her.
"That's true, you were remarkably useful when your identity was hidden... What am I going to do with you if you can't integrate with the other Death Eaters?"
"It's not me who refuses to integrate! It's them who treat me like nothing because I'm a woman!"
With a sudden movement, the Dark Lord's hand closed around the girl's throat.
"Be careful, Bellatrix," he whispered in her ear, "you wouldn't want me to lose all respect for you."
"I'm sorry, Master..."
He interrupted her by tightening his grip on her neck.
"The only reason I accepted you into my ranks is because you're a powerful witch. Lose control again like today, hurt one of my Death Eaters again, and I'll show you how pathetic your power is compared to mine."
Lord Voldemort loosened his grip slightly and looked her in the eyes. She saw unspeakable cruelty in them. Bellatrix couldn't deny that she was terrified... He had never been so harsh with her before. She then fully realised that she had really been given special treatment until now. It chilled her to the bone. The fingers slowly released their hold on the girl's neck.
He turned away abruptly.
"Go home. You'll need rest to find Maggins," Lord Voldemort said, vanishing once again behind the wooden door. Uncertain, Bellatrix didn't know what to do. She refused to spend her life on the wrong side of the table. This time, she was determined to see it through. A few seconds after her master, she crossed the wooden door. The corridor lay deserted, but rather than discouraging her, it fuelled her determination as she continued her brisk pace inside the unfamiliar building where the Dark Lord resided. She opened a few doors hastily, finding most of them empty. At the end of the corridor, she faced a double wooden door. As she turned the handle, she entered a room she immediately recognised: the suite where she had conversed with her master last April. Lord Voldemort stood in the adjacent room, unmistakably the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on her, his cape in hand. With her heart racing, Bellatrix realised he was likely preparing for bed; it was very late, after all. The burning intensity of her master's gaze froze her in place, and her courage threatened to dissipate like snow in the sun.
"I believe I asked you to leave," Lord Voldemort hissed in a glacial tone.
Bellatrix still gazed at him, terrified beyond words, yet seized by a violent twinge in the small of her back. The Dark Lord's eyes now glinted with a fiery intensity, akin to blades glistening with blood. The collar around his neck appeared looser than usual, as if he had begun undressing—Bellatrix could glimpse the smooth, white skin she yearned to kiss.
"I refuse to depart without proving my loyalty to you," Bellatrix explained, her voice shaky.
Though far from reassured, she reasoned it would be less agonising to endure her master's torments than to forgo the opportunity to kiss him here and now. With slow steps, she approached him.
"You refuse...? Bellatrix, I strongly advise you to retreat now if you wish to avoid facing my full wrath," Lord Voldemort cautioned.
Trembling yet resolute, she placed her hands on the black wizard's torso and, in one fluid motion, stood on tiptoe to kiss the tiny patch of skin not concealed by the collar of her dress. She barely had a moment to relish the softness of his skin before she was forcefully pushed away, her head colliding with the door frame, sending pain coursing through her skull. She was now inside the room. A hand snaked under her hair, yanking her head back.
Thankfully, the wizard was without his wand. From the corner of her eye, Bellatrix noticed it lying on the bed. Without hesitation, she seized the wizard's black robes.
"Bellatrix," Voldemort taunted in a hollow voice, "do not mistake the mercy I have shown for an aversion to causing you harm..."
A strange smile played on the young woman's lips. Fear gripped her, her body trembling, but deep within, a surge of pure madness urged her on. She would sooner endure hours of torture than retreat. With her free hands, she began unfastening her master's robe, unhurriedly, her eyes fixed on him as she meticulously undid each clasp. Soon, she slid her fingers beneath, exploring his cold yet infinitely soft abdomen, then against the black mage's half-erect manhood. Silently, his jaw clenched and his pupils dilated like those of a serpent, Lord Voldemort permitted her to continue for a few moments before placing the hand not entangled in her hair on her wrist, as he took a step back. Bellatrix immediately dropped to her knees and did not wait a second to put her mouth around her master's hot, erect member. A hiss escaped the Dark Lord's lips. Again, he let Bellatrix move her mouth back and forth a few times before pushing her away. She was now too far away to touch him.
"Master..." she pleaded, her throat constricted with an almost painful desire.
Half-lying on the floor, breathless, intoxicated, panicked, she watched as he donned his robe, then approached the bed to retrieve his wand. Pinned to the floor by his cold stare and the wand extended toward her, he loomed over her, a daunting figure. The bedroom door clicked shut behind him.
"Crucio," he hissed.
Instantly, Bellatrix was engulfed in excruciating pain, every nerve, muscle, and bone screaming in agony. After what felt like an eternity, Lord Voldemort released the spell. She lay on the floor, still gazing up at him.
"I trust that was sufficient to temper your ardour... Leave, Bellatrix," he commanded.
He was right. All desire evaporated in an instant. Yet, one glance at him—his graceful hands, his cold yet sensuous mouth, his eyes burning like hellfire—reignited the uncontrollable urge to have him inside her. But embarrassment flooded her as she realised what she had nearly done. To be honest, if it had been anyone else, she wouldn't have considered it nearly an assault, but Lord Voldemort was more than capable of defending himself, wand or not. Despite her fear and humiliation, she couldn't ignore that he hadn't immediately repelled her advances. With shame engulfing her, Bellatrix rose and vanished, unable to muster the courage to look at him one last time.
XxXxXxX
October 1970,
The weeks passed in a blur. Bellatrix spent her days with Ethan Rosier, who felt nothing but growing contempt for her, and Rabastan Lestrange, hoping to find Igor Maggins. So far, their pursuit had been in vain.
The former Auror had completely vanished: no one had seen him at the Ministry of Magic, and all the informants they had in the wizarding world had gone silent. This only fueled the rage of the three Death Eaters further. Lord Voldemort had decided not to involve them in any other missions until Maggins was found, dead or alive. Yet the frenzy surrounding the Dark Lord was more intense than ever. The Death Eaters could sense that their master's first public appearance was imminent: each day brought a new mission, and brutal interrogations became more frequent. The black wizard's absences became routine, sometimes lasting several days, and each time he returned, he seemed more threatening than before.
That evening, Rodolphus was on a mission, as was Reginaldus. Exhausted from another day without results, Bellatrix returned alone to the Lestrange Manor. Rabastan had gone for a drink with other Death Eaters. The clock in the grand hall indicated nine o'clock and three minutes. Mrs. Lestrange was probably not yet in bed. Most of the time, Bellatrix avoided her as much as possible, but that evening, she was famished. She crossed the opulent rooms of the ground floor to the dining room. On the round table lay several plates, as usual, covered with a warming charm. Bellatrix didn't even have time to taste her meal. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a body sprawled on the floor near the fireplace.
Bellatrix rushed over and recognised the horror-stricken face of her stepmother.
"Oh, by Merlin..."
Bellatrix was familiar with the Death Curse that contorted Mrs. Lestrange's face. She barely had time to think that she needed to alert someone when her wand suddenly slipped from her hand. She turned sharply and faced the hate-twisted visage of Igor Maggins.
"Stupefy!"
Bellatrix collapsed to the floor.
To be continued.
SamaraXX