Chapter Text
Insulted.
Her cheeks flushes with shame, incapable of pretending fake indifference before the scorn of the other Death Eaters.
In truth, though, they don’t matter to Bella.
It’s His icy laugh to wound her like a scorching iron.
Taunted.
By her own Lord, the one she’d have never wanted to fail.
**
She looks at her sister, now incapable of keeping high her gaze once so fierce.
She watches her nephew, a fearful boy who lacks of determination.
She thinks of the Metamorphmagus wedded to a filthy werewolf with no qualms, and she feels boundless rage realising the Blacks are only the pale memory – or not even that – of what they’ve been in their glorious past.
A past when no Black would have dared to contaminate his pureblood with a beast, a past when they couldn’t be forced to lower their gaze under the devious laugh of a handful of peasants.
**
Bellatrix doesn’t to point that out, but there is no need for the Dark Lord to ask her to rectify it.
She already knows what she has to do.
Twisting a lock of her long, thick, ebony hair, Bellatrix realises she should engage a bit of cleansing starting from her own bloodline, now stripped of its noble prestige.
The idea of letting this hideous truth get past her becomes suddenly intolerable.
It’s time to eradicate the impurities.
**
Hug her any change you get, traitor of your blood.
Soon one of those hug will become the last, pathetic act of love you’ll be able to share with your daughter… because she won’t see the end of this war.
And this is not a threat.
It’s a solemn oath.
**
It’s fear what I read in your eyes, my beloved sister, but I won’t let the fright of seeing your son failing uproot your statuary tenacity.
I miss your haughty confidence… undermined by your husband’s mistakes.
And an uncomfortable thought grows in my mind…
Will you still be able to serve your Lord?
No, I don’t want to question your loyalty… but I sense you don’t worship him enough.
That you would never sacrifice everything for him.
I try to get over this doubts, because if they are true, you’d be an obstacle to reconquering our ancient integrity of blood and thoughts.
If they’re true, you may not see the end of this war as well…
******
She laughs out loud, unconcerned by the clamor of the battle which rages around her.
She’s never been scared of a fight.
Yet, along with the disdain for that miserable woman, she feels a new emotions raising, twisting her stomach.
Anguish.
Suddenly, she realises the woman’s gaze frightens her. She sees in those eyes the same sparkle she’s glimpsed in her sister’s… and in Andromeda’s.
{Unworthy to be called sister}
Another episodes crosses her mind.
Even that day she’d seen the same gaze…
{Agonizing screams of a woman.
Tormented to the bone.
Despite everything, she still withstands.
Nothing but harrowing howls leave her lips.
I keep inflicting her pain.
Naively convinced she’ll eventually give up the secret we’re desperately seeking.
Tortured into insanity.
I wonder how she can endure it.}
Only when she feels the flash of green light hitting her in the chest she understands what has driven those women.
The truth unfolds before her with overwhelming fierceness, and she drowns in a foreign abyss.
She dies like that, in a spiral of wonder and remorse.
Perhaps, if I’d been a mother too…
Perhaps, it does exist the power of Love…
******
Centuries later.
A ghost wanders alone in an empty land.
Trapped between two worlds.
Around the translucent figure, only whiteness.
It’s snow, cold as her touch.
The ghost still wonders about Love…
And still can’t find the answer.
Yet, it’s closer than the spirit believes.
Because, even if they’re just two infamous traitors, she trembles with grief knowing she’ll never see them again.
{Despite everything, worthy to be called sisters}