A/N: Hello people and welcome to a short, scene-based Bellatrix-POV, future Haphne work. I hope you enjoy; I have more written that I'll post when I can!
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Sharp feline eyes glanced up at the stone-made structure, the rain distorting the sight thereof, but not the black-cloaked shapes that floated about. The Dementors — it was they who guarded Azkaban, and they who punished any who'd dare to escape. Yet they'd failed.
At least, so far.
Those same eyes sought out the vastness of water. It went as far as the eye could see, and the large, violent, rolling waves splashed ceaselessly against the rock-made shore of the island, some going so far as to hit the prison situated atop the rocks. No damage came as a result. No damage ever came lest it was done purposefully, and few in the history of the world had been so daring.
A bolt of lightning came down, and then, an alarm like that of a caterwauling charm sounded. It seemed the breather was over. There was no time left to be spent catching one's breath, and hesitation now would mean breathing in general, would soon be of no concern at all.
The housecat's shape changed into that of a woman with dark, curly hair, pale skin and a gaunt figure that'd once been full. Time had been cruel to the woman, as had other people, but she was free now.
As she took to the air, a grayish smoke 'thanks' to the spell her master had taught her, she was filled with the thought of a family she'd wronged above all others. One that stood to lose everything, even more so than she herself had, if she didn't make haste.
Yes, as she veered away at speed from the island, she was focused on finding that family so as to see to their safety from the shadows, and she had an idea of where to start thanks to her troublemaking cousin, Sirius. He was a loudmouth, a prankster — a dear cousin that she'd been forced to wrong from the day she'd been sold off to the Lestranges.
The rain and smoke which she'd turned into masked the tears that'd otherwise have fallen freely from her face as she continued to the mainland, her mind switching from that one family, the Potters, to herself; she'd been restored.
A pulse of magic had come sometime ago, one that seemed to signal the end of the man that'd been the cause of so much pain. With that pulse came free thought as the many potions and spells put over her were discharged. Whatever the dark mark had residing inside of it was gone, all that remained was the innate mark itself.
That, and the memories of what she'd done. What she'd been forced to do. Voldemort, the Lestranges, not one choice she'd made in the presence of either had been her own. She was a Pureblood, one that oft aligned with much of what those of her status did… but that didn't mean she was in favour of eradicating Muggleborn or Muggles.
No, that wasn't her. That'd never been her.
So long as they didn't try and ruin her way of life, she was content to let them do as they like. Lily Evans had been an excellent example if any had existed, of Muggleborn and the like. She was smart, magically gifted, and mannered, but then she'd gone along and married James Potter; that'd certainly lowered Bellatrix's opinion of the other witch, but she supposed, not by too much. Sirius, James and the other friends which the two boys shared all did as she wished to deep down; they rebelled, they had fun, and they played many a prank on those who oft deserved it.
Her Slytherin classmates were more often than not at the peak of such a list of those who deserved it. The creativity and the memories of those pranks tempered the fury as it'd started to well up, and the sight of land not too long after went so far as to bring a smile, were it possible to see her.
But it was then she stopped reminiscing about the memories of her childhood, lest it progress to the point where she was little more than a spectator in her own body. Were she to recollect that at length, a cold fury would rise in place of happiness, and she'd be all too tempted to hunt down and kill any who'd done her wrong.
Other priorities, however, were too high up for her to do as she liked, even if a great many people deserved little more than a flash of green light before they were gone from the world. Bellatrix knew of his plans. Who he wished to slay. She'd also overheard how hated their world was by that of Lily's cousins.
She'd overheard Sirius in his cell, near to hers as it'd been, when he'd been calling out, mad-sounding as could be. Yet, it'd been intelligible, even if it was considered little more than nonsense by all who heard it.
He'd claimed it wasn't him that'd done it. That the Muggles would ruin Lilly's boy. That Lily hadn't wanted them near her son and that the Rat had done it all.
Above land as Bellatrix was, she would find the truth of it all.
Godric's Hollow was her destination, and she'd arrive there soon enough… but perhaps first, a tour to a little village might be needed. She was in need of a wand if she were to find the Potters and convey what she could to — she frowned at the thought — Dumbledore.
She disliked that man even sans the potions and spells, but he was the best bet to see everything right.
Bellatrix was in the treeline, peering at the village that was Godric's Hollow with 'her' new wand in hand. She'd procured it from the nearest village, a place that was little more than a hamlet, and from a particularly drunk wizard who no longer needed it. But that, and her breakout was all that went well for her.
Yes, she'd located the Potter's home far quicker than she'd thought she might, but it was a home no more.
It was a ruin, and the Potters were gone.