Work Text:
Summer 1969
Black locks swayed across the field as Bella twirled. The skirt of her ankle length dress pulled into a bell shape from the velocity of her movement. Alastor grabbed at a bunch of grapes, getting a few purple pieces of fruit, juices running down his hand. He was mesmerized by the serenity of the sight he was witnessing.
The time they could spend together was waning more with each passing day. The sentiment of pure-blood wizards supremacy over half-bloods and Muggle-borns was causing a chasmic divide with their generation. Bella shied away from conversations about Voldemort and his followers, preferring to spend the time they had together basking in sunlight and whimsical delights.
They arrived only moments apart at their sacred meeting spot, and Alastor was taken aback by Bella’s appearance. She had bruised circles under her eyes, her dark umber browns dulled to a shade closer to a rusted knut. He had asked her what was wrong and she had smiled brightly, lifting her arms up towards the sky and exclaiming her joy at being out in the fresh air. Though concerned, he had let her run off, while he set up the picnic he had prepared for them.
“Bella, love, come eat.” He carefully worked to project his voice without scaring her off. She could get skittish at the drop of a wizard's hat, his tiny Thestral. Flighty and enigmatic.
She swung around one more time, before skipping over to him. He was entranced by her allure, her milky white skin, deep red pouty lips, and onyx black hair that fell to her waist in tangled waves. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.
As she jumped onto the tartan blanket laid out on top of the grass, she launched herself towards him, planting a crushing kiss on his lips. A grunt escaped him, and he braced himself with one hand behind his back to prevent from falling down, while the other hand snaked around her waist. As he pressed his lips back against her supple mouth, it wasn’t long before his tongue was coaxing her to open up for him.
She rarely allowed things to go much further, pretenses of what a lady should do in these scenarios playfully remembered. Today, she seemed eager, hungry. A desperation guided her as she pushed her chest into his, her full breast meeting the hardened planes of his own upper body. He knew if her dress was thinner, he would feel her nipples pebble to the sensation they shared. The crackle of magic intertwined between them, their sentient souls teasing and prodding in featherlight threads.
As quickly as it began, it ended. Bellatrix pulled her head back slightly, looking up at him with batted eyelashes. “I mustn't be a bad girl today, Alastor. You promised to keep me in check.”
“I did no such thing, Bells, and you know it.” He was so hard, ready to devour her as soon as she would allow it. But he was raised to be a gentleman, even with the temptation of her lithe, fair and intoxicating body splayed on top of him. He exercised restraint.
“Shocking. What would your mother say?”
“To make an honest man out of myself and marry you.”
“Pish, posh, and slosh. Not today, I’m afraid. I have delicate sandwiches to devour.”
In a flash of movement, Bellatrix waved her wand, and the plates and food spread out before them. They ate in companionable silence for some time, only sharing a few small smiles and smirks between them.
Time was a fickle hag, and too quickly their picnic came to an end.
“When will I see you again, Ms. Black?”
“I’ll send an owl as soon as I know, Mr. Moody.”
She giggled at the use of proper names. He so enjoyed her tinkling, melodic laughter, capturing it to live forever deep into his heart.
☼───☼───☼
Alastor was immersed in his report, reading through the most recent bouts of vandalism that had occurred in Diagon Alley over the previous few days, all related to fanatics trying to reclaim what was “theirs”. Death Eaters, they called themselves. A new symbol of a skull devouring a snake appeared in the sky above the masked group. While they disapparated away, a squad of Aurors arrived.
He was new to the division, only recently graduating from Hogwarts and going through training. He was joined by Frank Longbottom and Alice Fortescue. As the newest officers, they were pulled into helping with crowd control and cleanup after the event.
A loud scrape and tapping at his window had his brows furrowing, as it was a strange time for a message to be delivered. He cast a tempus and found it to be well after midnight. He opened the window to let in the Black Barn Owl he was quite familiar with, her soft hoot echoing into his room.
“Alright, Sable. What’s you got for me?” He removed the note from her leg, giving her head a gentle brush. “Let me get you a treat.” His holstered wand was easy to reach, since he was still wearing part of his Auror uniform. “Accio Owl Biscuit.”
As the owl snatched her favorite snack from his fingers, she gave another short hoot, rapidly gobbled it up with no crumbs left behind, and waited patiently for his note. He knew she would not leave until he had provided a reply.
Tomorrow at the peak of sunshine where the bluebells glow. ❤ B
Relief flooded him. He hadn’t heard from Bella for a few months, and the increased tensions growing amongst the wizarding community was making it difficult to see anyone outside of trusted friends. They did not move in the same social networks.
Bellatrix was a Black, her family esteemed, feared, and one of the richest pure-blood families. One of the many Sacred Twenty Eight families already associated closely with Voldemort. His hope was to convince her to leave her family behind and come live with him, and he intended to do that as soon as they saw each other. No more courting rituals or dallying in the sunshine. War was coming, and Bella needed to choose a side.
He had hope for her after hearing Andromeda had cut ties and was marrying Ted Tonks. The Black family had shunned the oldest Black sister, but it was a perfect blueprint of what he could do for keeping Bell safely away from the insanity of her family’s unquestioning obedience to a mad man.
Preparations were required and he knew he wouldn’t get any sleep. He was ready to make a life with this dynamic and intoxicating witch permanent, planning to get down on one knee and professing his love, and his desire for her to come fully into his world. He wanted her to have a happily ever after.
☼───☼───☼
A crack in the air spun around him, as Alastor arrived an hour ahead of schedule, his patience waning as he had paced around his office all morning. He had sent in his excuses for missing work a few hours ago.
The dawn hour had brought a new wave of unease as The Daily Prophet professed the continued harassment of Muggle-born wixen across the countryside. He had caught a glimpse of Bellatrix in a photo of Rudolphos Lestrange pushing an old man into a puddle of mud, laughing at the scene. Her face looked strange, almost gleeful. He didn’t recognize this version of Bella. She always had a preference for mischief, but he had never seen her blatantly enjoy the discomfort of another.
He had transformed a couple of stones into soft cushions, taking a seat as he looked across the field of wildflowers, the harsh August sunlight scorching them. They looked sickly and burnt. The summer was one of the hottest he had experienced. He muttered a cooling charm, a swirl of chilled air moving around him.
Alastor felt her presence before he heard the small pop of apparition across the field. He had an intense intuition of where she was when they were in close proximity. He knew his soul yearned for her. His own magic calling to connect to hers.
“My love,” he sprinted towards her when he noticed her lack of movement. She was wearing a frilly black ensemble, a bit heavy for a sweltering day, but he knew she preferred to lean into everything related to her family name. It would make convincing her even more difficult.
When he got closer, he felt his blood drain, pooling into his gut. A wave of nausea hit him instantly. This was not his Bella, her aura had changed and her magic burned as it pulsed around him. Her face was even more pale than he had ever seen it, her cheeks hollowed and her teeth more prominent. She was morphing in front of him.
“Al, I’ve come to tell you the best news.” Her voice was shrilled, a dark wave of noise encompassing the attempt at excitement.
“News, Bells?” He wasn’t ready. He knew something was wrong. Falling to his knees, he reached for her hands. She moved forward, placing her frigid hands in his, joining him on bended knees.
“Yes, I had to tell you in person. You are such a dear friend, after all. Mother was not happy to let me go today, so I told her I was going to visit a friend from Hogwarts. She insisted on knowing if you were a pure-blood. Thank Salazar, you are.”
“Bella, I don’t understand why that matters, but that’s not important. I wanted to ask you something…”
“No, Alastor, I have to tell you first. I had a private meeting with the Dark Lord and he was so magnificent. I was enraptured by him.” Her face was lit up in a strange glow of adoration and her eyes widened as she gushed further. “He isn’t what they make him out to be, Al. Honestly. He is thoughtful, intelligent, and everything he says makes so much sense. He just wants to protect us.”
The dread in his gut grew. “That’s not true, Bella. Voldemort wants to harm people like Alice. Your friend.”
“Alice and I are not friends. It has been suggested to me that she has no loyalties to our community, only serving to threaten our way of life. What are we going to do if the Muggles find out about us and harm us? We cannot abide. I have to cut ties with those who will not serve the greater good.”
She smiled, lips quirked up, eyes sparkling. The words she spewed did not match the emotions she showed. His heart stopped beating, his blood continuing to drain, as he tried to grasp what he was hearing.
“You can’t mean that. You have so much love to give and you care about your friends. That is one of the many reasons I love you, Bellatrix Druella Black. I know the real you. You are kind, quirky and smart. You absolutely cannot believe what you are saying.”
She grasped his face with both of her hands, her fingers splayed into his cropped dark brown hair. Her eyes bore into his own, as if searching for something.
“Come with me Alastor. Meet the Dark Lord and listen to what he has to say. Mother wants me to marry Rudolphus Lestrange, but my heart belongs to you.”
A small sliver of hope bloomed back into him at her devotion.
“Say you will come back and join us, please. You are meant for greatness and our Lord will provide.” Her tone turned whiny, begging almost. He grasped her hands with his own, casting them down from his head, grasping onto them with a tremble.
“Bella, marry me. I will protect you from the dark world you found yourself in. I will care for you. I will give you everything you wish for. Peace, love, autonomy, anything you need. You are everything to me. I will be the one who wakes up thinking about how to make your life perfect and go to bed making sure it was. I’ll be whatever you want me to be, but… I cannot follow you on that path.” His desperation grew as her head started to shake. “Please, my heart. Choose light, choose joy, choose us.”
Her entire body stiffened, her face a mask of stone, her energy cold. He knew at that moment that he had lost her. He had waited too long. Had trusted their love and their blended souls would be enough to endure.
“The Dark Lord warned me. I gushed about you, Alastor Moody. I told him how brave you were, how thoughtful and intelligent. He told me that you would try to take me away, and I didn’t believe it.”
She got up, pulling her hands from his violently as her black curls bounced from the force.
“If you are asking me to choose between you and my family, my beliefs and my desire to protect our community, then you are not the man I thought you were.”
The words she spoke were like a severing charm, the bond between them cut and frayed. A stabbing pain traveled through his heart, unbearable and damaging.
“I hoped we had time. I hoped you would see reason and come back with me. I hoped I was enough. Please, Bella, I’m begging you.”
“Beg away, Moody. My eyes have been opened and I know where I belong. And today proved it is not with you.”
Magic splintered the air.
Bellatrix was gone.
☼───☼───☼
July 1997
The headline blazed at the top of the newspaper, spread out across her lap. The picture of Alastor from his earlier years was positioned next to the newer one. He looked so different, yet so much the same.
Veteran Auror Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody Falls during a battle with Death Eaters.
A feeling niggled at her core, a long forgotten emotion she hadn’t let surface for half her life, not even while she was cast away in Azkaban. A distant thought of warmth, comfort, and love threatened to spread through her.
The dark mark burned and the flutter of memories faded into the deep recesses of her chaotic mind.
The Dark Lord beckons.