The Spoils of War

THE SPOILS OF WAR

BY AERIE22

CHAPTER 11

BELLE'S STORY

"Is she all right? Why didn't she come down to breakfast?"

Cissy sighed. "She's upset," she said softly. "Upset about a lot of things. And she's worried that she spoiled your day out."

Harry snorted. "The hell with that! Is she all right?"

Cissy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "She'll be all right, Harry. It's just that ... every once in a while, she has these episodes. Something triggers a memory and she just goes all to pieces."

"What memories?"

Cissy looked up at Harry. "She made me promise not to talk about it. I don't even know about much of it. I didn't know about them until the last couple months--when Lucius dragged me out of the Manor to The Dark Lord's headquarters. She had a couple of them. Then, at the end, she was almost looking forward to the final battle. I think she was prepared to die, almost welcoming the idea."

Harry leaned his elbows on the table, running his hands through his hair in frustration and anxiety. Finally, he looked up at Cissy. "This can't go on," he said flatly.

Cissy pursed her lips and stared past Harry in thought for several moments. Finally, she looked at him. "Maybe you should talk with her."

Harry gave a curt nod and rose from the table.

* * *

Harry knocked softly on the door frame. "Can I come in?"

Belle was curled up under a sheet on her bed. "I'm sorry," came the muffled response.

Harry's heart went out to her. Belle looked so small, curled up in a bed that was almost the size of a Muggle King-size bed. He slowly made his way into her room and sat down on the corner of the bed. "Tell me what's the matter," he said softly.

"I can't," came to reply.

Harry reached over and gently squeezed her shoulder through the bedsheet. "Belle, this can't go on."

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I'll put up silencing charms around my room if you'll let me. I won't be a bother."

Harry sighed. "I'm not concerned for me. I worried about you."

"Don't worry about me."

Harry gently reached out to turn her to face him. She did not resist. She looked like hell. Her eyes were red rimmed and there were lines on her face from where she'd pressed her face into a seam in the bedding. And her hair was in total disarray, matted against her fevered brow and cheeks. "I think I can help you," he said quietly. "If you'll tell me what's bothering you, maybe we can figure something out to make you feel better."

She stared at him. "No one can help," she said in a rasping voice. "I don't deserve ..."

"Shhhh," Harry said, cutting her off as she turned away. He reached out and began stroking her shoulder again. "I know what it's like," he started softly. "I didn't think I deserved any help either. But I was wrong."

Belle merely grunted.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I remember thinking I was responsible for so many things that went wrong in this world. That I was a worthless burden. But then I began to share some of those feelings and it made me feel a lot better."

Belle was silent for a long time. As Harry was furiously trying to think of the next thing to say, Belle shifted. "How?" she asked.

Harry blinked. "Well, Dumbledore wanted me to learn Occlumency. You know what that is?"

He saw Belle shiver, then nod.

Harry nodded in turn. "Well, he first tried to get Snape to teach me."

Belle snorted derisively from under the blanket.

"Yeah, my feelings exactly." Harry paused. "Well, the summer after my fifth year, I was living ..." Then Harry paused. Years of ingrained secrecy made him think twice about mentioning it. But then, by now it was common knowledge. "I was living at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

Belle chuckled. "The roost of the Big Chicken and all his little chickadees," Belle muttered. Then she sighed. "That's what Mulciber called it. We could never figure out where it was."

Harry chuckled. "Not too far from the truth," he replied wryly. "Well, Tonks was being trained in Occlumency and Legilimency by an Unspeakable at the same time, so we sort of learned together."

"Nymmie?" Belle said in surprise, half turning toward Harry before turning away from him again.

Harry chuckled. "She hates her first name, so she always insisted we call her Tonks."

Again, Belle snorted.

Harry frowned and squeezed Belle's upper arm. "She's a wonderful person, Belle. So are her parents," he said with a quiet firmness.

Belle continued to look away, but he could sense her deflating at the gentle rebuke.

Harry sighed again. "As I was saying, we practiced on each other. We were careful about what memories we probed each other's minds for. Things like our first kiss." Harry suddenly chuckled softly. "I thought mine was bad. But Tonks practically got a tongue up her nose when the guy she was kissing got a little carried away and she abruptly backed off."

He could feel Belle's form vibrate a little as she tried to stifle a giggle.

"Mine wasn't much better. Lots of tears." Harry paused. "And no, it wasn't because I was such a lousy kisser."

Belle now turned to look at Harry, hints of amusement threatening to appear on her face.

Harry huffed, feigning offense, and Belle gave out a small giggle.

Then his face softened and he looked at Belle. "But Tonks managed to see some other things while she was in my mind. Deeper, sadder things. We ended up talking a lot that summer. About my life. About hers. It was nice to finally have someone to talk to. Someone who had her own problems and who would listen and share. It really helped me."

Belle shifted so she was now lying on her side facing him. "You liked her?"

Harry shrugged. "At the time, I just needed someone to talk to. The only other girls around were Hermione and Ginny Weasley. I was never really attracted to Ginny. At the time, she was beginning to develop this real outgoing personality and I was afraid if I gave her the least encouragement, she'd jump my bones and I'd end up either being crucified by the Weasleys, or smothered by them."

"And Hermione?"

Harry looked down and frowned. "I don't know ... she was one of the reasons why I was feeling guilty. She was almost killed because of me. It was at that point that I realized how much she meant to me. We had done so much together, Hermione, Ron and me. But I began to realize that, more often than not, it was just Hermione by my side in so many of the things that happened. She was always there and ... well, I liked her a lot. But you can't sit down with a girl you like and then start complaining and wringing your hands about how awful your life was and being a crybaby and all."

Harry paused to try to regain the thread of his conversation. "Tonks was different. She was older. She could sit there and listen patiently and give advice. And she talked to me about her problems and worries. It was nice. Like having an older sister. Not quite a real grownup, but not quite someone you would worry about being a girlfriend, either." Then Harry paused for a few moments. "Although she did give me my second kiss. It was a lot better than the first."

Belle stared at Harry. "My niece kissed you?"

Harry blushed a little. "Well, she thought she would teach me how to kiss a girl." Harry pursed his lips and paused. "There was one time, later in the summer, where we kind of got carried away. We fell asleep in each others arms and when we woke up, we were ... kind of groping each other." Harry was blushing now.

Belle stared at Harry, then started to chuckle. "You and little Nymmie?"

Harry frowned. "It scared us a little," he said quickly. "We didn't do that again." Harry again paused, then gave Belle a wry smile. "Still, it was a nice memory."

Belle merely shook her head and became wistful. "I only met her a few times when I was young. My mother forbade us from visiting my sister Andy, but I had to see my niece. Nymmie couldn't have been more than six or seven. But she was always so full of energy and mischief." After a few moments, she turned back to Harry. "Do you still like her?"

Harry blinked and frowned. "No, I never thought of her as a girlfriend. She was seven years older than me. Plus, I hear she's practically engaged to another Auror." He paused for a moment and got a faraway look in his eyes. "No, I like Hermione."

The two remained silent on the bed for a couple minutes. Then Harry turned to Belle. "Listen, I'm serious. Talking to Tonks helped me a lot. It helped me focus on what's important. On the future. Not some real or imagined guilt or pain from the past. Maybe if we could talk, you might start to feel better."

Belle suddenly shifted so she was facing away from Harry again. "I ... I don't ..." She paused in consternation. "Why, Harry?"

Harry frowned. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. "Because ... because I hate to see you hurting. I hate to see you in pain. Yesterday, I saw a Belle Black who was smiling and laughing and enjoying herself. And it was wonderful. I want to see that person more often."

Belle stared at him. "I don't ... I couldn't ... I wouldn't know how to tell you. I can't talk about it."

Harry cleared his throat and frowned. "You wouldn't have to put it in words. I know Legilimency. We could walk through it together."

Belle suddenly stiffened. "He used that on me. I thought he understood. But, in the end, I realized he was just using me. He only took."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm not Voldemort," he said firmly. Then he looked deeply into her eyes. "Listen, we both have things in our pasts. I've put mine pretty much behind me. But maybe we can both walk down the paths of our pasts together and find a way to reach the ends of those paths and not go down them again. Okay?"

Belle leaned back into her pillows and closed her eyes. "I ... I have to think."

Harry squeezed her shoulder. "Why don't you have a bath. I'll have Dobby raid the kitchen for some breakfast for you. Maybe we can chat a little while you eat and think about it. How about that?"

Belle opened her eyes and glanced at Harry, then looked away. "Maybe ..."

* * *

"Just remember, when I open the connection to your mind, I will leave the connection open to mine, as well. I can draw you in so we can share," Harry said in an anxious tone. He was breathing heavily and had squeezed his eyes closed. It felt like he was about to walk out on stage naked in front of thousands of people. But if Belle was willing to share if he did, he felt he had to go through with it. "Just focus on my mind."

Harry sat on the bed Indian style facing Belle, who was similarly seated. He slowly opened his eyes and stared into hers. "Legilimens!"

* * *

The five-year-old boy was in a well-kept back yard. He was pulling up the weeds from the flower garden just like his aunt had showed him. It took him over an hour and several thumps on the head to understand the difference between the weeds and the flowers, but he eventually got it. He had been doing this twice a week for the past six weeks during the summer. He didn't mind it because he discovered the Treasure Hunt game. And today was an especially good day. So far, he had found two plastic soldiers, a lead knight on horseback, and a plastic triceratops, all of which Dudley had tossed aside or abandoned. One of the soldiers had the bottoms of his feet cut off, doubtless from when his uncle's lawnmower ran over it. But that was okay, little Harry thought. A lot of his treasures were bent or cut. But they were still his now. He had about a dozen plastic soldiers that his cousin Dudley had left out on the lawn. Harry had hidden all his treasures away in the garden shed behind some clay flower pots. A few he had brought into the house to hide in his cupboard under the stairs.

He was finally finished weeding the garden and wandered over to the garden shed with his treasures. He stepped inside and untucked his oversized T-shirt to let them tumble out. Just as he reached to put them in his hideaway, he heard his cousin start yelling from just outside the shed.

"MUM!!! DAD!!! HARRY'S STEALING MY TOYS!!!"

Harry panicked. He wanted to run, but Dudley was standing at the door to the shed, giving him an evil grin. Suddenly, Dudley was pushed aside and Uncle Vernon stormed in, taking up most of the space in the shed. "What the bloody Hell!" his uncle screamed.

"Behind the pots! Behind the pots!" Dudley screamed in glee.

Uncle Vernon stared at the cache of abandoned toy soldiers and began to fume. "You bloody little thief!" he thundered. Suddenly, he roughly yanked little Harry by the arm to drag him out of the shed for a beating. Harry had just enough time to see Dudley leer and stick his tongue out when he heard a crack and his arm explode in pain. His world went black.

* * *

The seven-year-old boy gave out a hoarse, phlegmy cough. He shivered in the dark confines of his cupboard in the middle of the night, wrapped like a mummy in a thin sheet. Sweat poured off his brow. Suddenly, the door was yanked open.

"Will you stop that infernal hacking!" his uncle growled.

"I'm cold," the boy said in a rasping voice.

"Well, that's too darn bad about you! I'm not wasting money paying the heating bills to heat the ground floor all night only for the likes of you!"

Then his aunt appeared and grabbed his forehead. She snorted and left. Moments later, she reappeared. "Open wide," she snapped. The boy opened his mouth only to have a serving spoon full of a vile tasting liquid dumped in.

Then his uncle reappeared a tossed a tattered old sweatshirt that smelled of sweat and turpentine into his lap. "Now you keep your bloody yap shut for the rest of the night or it'll be my belt on your behind in the morning."

* * *

The ten-year-old boy was cowering behind a bush at the school. He knew Dudley and his gang were after him. But he didn't know what for. Then he heard them.

"Got that drum stick ready, Piers?" Dudley said in a quiet voice. "Remember, when we catch, you pull his trousers off, you two hold him down, and I'll bugger him with this."

The boy went into a panic. They'd beat him before, but they never did anything like this. He suddenly bolted from cover and began running for the main playground, his stalkers in hot pursuit. He turned the corner, only to find the gate in the fence chained and locked. They were going to get him and do unspeakable things to him. The gang was just about to turn the corner to catch him when he started to scream, then felt a sudden lurch. He looked around and was amazed to find himself on the roof of the school.

* * *

There, on the Hogwarts Express, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water. Then the voices came...

"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy...." Then A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming, and there was a flash of a sickly green light.

* * *

"Kill the Spare!"

* * *

I must not tell lies.

* * *

Hermione gave a tiny 'Oh!' as though of surprise and crumpled on to the floor, where she lay motionless.

'HERMIONE!'

* * *

Harry rose to dash toward the veil. Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.

"There's nothing you can do, Harry ..."

* * *

Harry felt a hand stroking his back as Belle embraced him tightly, weeping in grief and shame. He could feel her tears fall on his neck. It had been over an hour as Harry had let her into his own private hell, one that he had put behind him, but which he had resurrected to reassure her, so they could both share in each other's pain.

After several minutes, he slowly disengaged from her and held her at arm's length. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Are you ready?"

Belle gave a weak nod and looked into his tormented eyes.

"Legilimens!"

* * *

"Why isn't Andy coming home?"

A nine-year-old Cissy huffed, her perfectly groomed blond hair bouncing around her shoulders. "She was captured by the Muggles."

The six-year-old Belle stared, tears forming in her eyes. "Aren't we going to rescue her?"

Cissy sniffed. "Once you're captured by the Muggles, you can't come back to our World. That's the rule. She's not our sister anymore. Now she has to live in caves with them."

Belle was now getting angry. "I want her back. She sings to me."

Cissy pouted. "No, I don't think I want her back. Now I get to be the oldest. And I'll be the one to get the best husband. And I'll get to live in the biggest Palace!"

Belle was now furious. "No you won't! I'll go and find her. Then I'll live in the biggest castle in the world!"

* * *

Harry then heard a voice. It was Belle's.

'I was right, you know,' Harry heard her whisper. 'I did get to live in the biggest castle in the world.'

Harry was confused. 'You did?' he thought.

'Yes,' she thought back to him. 'The biggest castle in the world is Azkaban.'

* * *

A thirteen-year-old Belle was stalking through the corridors at Hogwarts, furious. She was sick and tired of being pranked by those Gryffindor seventh years, led by her stupid cousin, Sirius. As she turned the corner, she felt her feet go out from under her, landing on her bottom with a thud. An ice hex. It hurt, but not overly so. But tears of frustration welled up in her eyes.

"Are you all right," a concerned voice said.

Belle looked up and blinked in surprise. It was a rugged face that looked down at her with concern. He was not really handsome like Sirius or James Potter, but he had strength and a warmth that comforted. He glanced around and did a quick Finite spell, and the hex creating the slick floor disappeared. "Here, let me help you up."

His hands were warm and reassuring. "Are you okay?"

She could only nod as she stared at him.

"You know who did this?"

Belle frowned. "My cousin, Sirius."

The boy returned the frown. "I'll talk to James Potter. If he doesn't do anything, I'll have a word with Sirius myself."

Belle continued to stare open-mouthed.

"You sure you're all right?"

Belle could only nod.

The boy smiled and nodded, and walked away.

Belle stared at his back. Suddenly, she knew she was in love. But with a Gryffindor?

She shook her head. It didn't matter. She knew, right then and there that someday she would marry Frank Longbottom.

* * *

Dear Bellatrix,

Good news! The Longbottoms agreed to meet to discuss arranging a marriage between you and Frank. They seem most enthusiastic about the match. They are a fine old propertied pureblood family. We might not see eye-to-eye on everything, but I suppose that is to be expected these days. But all-in-all, you have made a wise choice.

We will let you know how the negotiations work out.

Mum

* * *

Alice McKinnon? ALICE MCKINNON!?!

Frank Longbottom turned me down for that cow Alice McKinnon?

The only man I'll ever love was stolen by some poor, dumpy witch of lower born pureblood ancestry when he could have had me!!!

I'll kill her! Someday I'll kill her!

* * *

"I don't care if he's seven years older than you! I don't care if he's seventy years older that you! You've been far too independent and wild, young lady. I won't have you become a disgrace like your cousin Sirius or a ... wanton and marry a Muggleborn like your former sister--and you can't fool me, I know you've been visiting her. You will settle down and marry Rodolphus, and that's final!"

"But Mum, he's ugly. And he's got that reputation. There are all those rumors! The scandals!"

"He's a first-born pureblood from a wealthy family! And if the rumors are true, at least you won't have to endure ... it, once you produce an heir."

* * *

She watched as Rodolphus in his dressing gown sat down at the edge of her bed facing away from her. She didn't know what to do. She was taught the mechanics of sex, but wasn't quite sure of the practical considerations. So she watched as he sat there as the minutes passed.

Finally, he turned around and dropped the dressing gown and quickly consummated their marriage. It was over in less than a minute. Then he ordered her out of bed and grabbed the now bloody sheet and banished it to his parents' house.

"Goodnight" was the only word he uttered to her on their wedding night as he left to sleep in his own bedroom, leaving her in pain and devastated.

* * *

Three nights a month, at what was presumed to be her peak fertility time, Rodolphus repeated the scene of their wedding night. Other than that, they rarely saw or spoke to each other.

Belle had learned, at least, to prepare herself beforehand so that their brief sexual encounters were no longer as painful or uncomfortable. Just as she had prepared herself tonight.

She heard the door open and turned to see not just Rodolphus, but Rabastan Lestrange.

"What!" she screamed.

"It's been four months and you still haven't produced an heir," Rodolphus snapped. "Maybe Rabastan can produce one. Same blood, so same bloodlines."

Belle rose in anger. "No! How dare you!!!"

Rodolphus raised his wand. "Crucio!"

As he held the unforgivable on her, Rodolphus began to taunt her. "Wassa matta, widdle Bella. Don't wanna make a baby wid her daddy. So maybe her daddy's brudder give widdle Bella a baby."

Her body was still spasming in pain as Rabastan took her.

* * *

Bellatrix,

Your relationship with your husband is none of our affair. You belong to him now. Do not bother us again with your complaints. Your sister Narcissa has produced an heir. It is time you do the same.

Mother.

* * *

Belle had not left her chambers in three months. Her wand was gone and she was locked in. Rodolphus would enter on occasion to scream or taunt her for failing to conceive, punctuating his lectures with Cruciatus and other painful curses.

Then, one night when she wasn't at her fertility peak, she heard the bedroom door open. Rodolphus stepped in, followed by Walden McNair. McNair smiled. "She is very beautiful."

Bella pulled her duvet up against her. "NO!" she screamed.

"Crucio!" Rodolphus countered.

* * *

After a while, it didn't matter. Rabastan. McNair. Mulciber. Dolohov. Even Lucius Malfoy had his turns with her.

She had given up. The house elves would force her to eat and clean up after her when she didn't have the strength to make it to the toilet.

Then the day came when Rodolphus entered her room and yanked her to her feet. "You're worthless, you little whore. But our Lord needs more followers. Maybe you'll be good for something besides spreading your legs."

That night, she found herself on her knees, her head bowed, before the most feared wizard in the world, Lord Voldemort.

"I ask for followers and this is what you give me?" she heard the man say in a high tenor voice.

"My Lord, she will do as she is told," Rodolphus responded in an anxious voice.

"Look at me, child," Voldemort commanded.

Belle slowly raised her eyes and was startled at what she saw. This was the greatest monster in the world. And yet he was elegant and very handsome. He looked tall and was slim, with very dark brown, almost black hair that appeared to show signs of gray. His face was thin and angular and his eyes an ice blue. He was dressed in gray flannels under a black silk robe. And his posture was casual but confident as he leaned back on his throne of what looked like human bones. But for his seemingly horribly chapped hands, he would be the picture of elegance.

"Look at me," he again commanded as he casually pointed his wand at her.

She felt a strange sensation in her mind, her memories riffled like a deck of cards. Then she saw Voldemort look at her with more interest.

"Clear the room," he commanded. "Miss Bella and I have things to discuss."

Belle stared at the Dark Lord in fear, but also with some curiosity. As he was probing her mind, she felt a few random images from his. As he lifted the Legilimens spell, she blinked. She retained an image of a nice looking young boy in dirty clothes in some orphanage being held down by other, bigger boys, who were assaulting and molesting him. 'He knows,' she thought. 'He understands.'

Voldemort looked at her and smiled. "Yes, Bella. You have nothing more to fear. I will protect you."

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Voldemort took her under his wing, teaching her Dark Magic and Unforgivables. And, it seemed, he enjoyed stroking her hair, as if he were petting a cat.

Then one day, as Voldemort was teaching Belle some of the more focused pain curses, Dolohov, Mulciber, and the Lestrange brothers stumbled in.

Voldemort stood and stared at them angrily. "What news?"

Dolohov, who was bleeding from a large, open bruise on his forehead, threw himself down on the floor before his Lord. "We were tricked, Lord. They escaped."

"I send four of my so-called best against the Longbottoms and they escaped!" he roared. He swiftly brought his wand up, his anger palpable, then slowly lowered it. He casually turned to Belle. "Surely, they deserve punishment, don't you think?" he said in an almost conversational tone.

Belle bowed her head. "Yes, My Lord."

A small smile crept across the Dark Lord's face. "Have you perfected the first lesson I taught you?"

Slowly, Belle began to smile. "I believe so, My Lord."

Voldemort grinned. "Show me."

"CRUCIO!!!" Belle screamed, and Rodolphus felt an agony not even Voldemort could create.

And slowly, Bellatrix Lestrange gained the reputation as the most vicious and feared Death Eater of them all, not for what she did on raids, for she was never let out, but for what Voldemort had her do to his own Death Eaters.

* * *

"He's dead!" someone cried out. "Our Lord is dead!"

Belle sat there stunned. Three times Voldemort had sent teams of Death Eaters against the Potters and three times they returned beaten, if they returned at all. So, when Pettigrew broke his Fidelus oath and revealed their location, Voldemort himself went after the Potters. Soon, there were rumors of the Dark Lord's defeat. Then Rookwood appeared to confirm it.

Belle sat on the step at the foot of Voldemort's throne, stunned and in tears. Her protector was gone.

But slowly, she took on a new resolve. She had seen, and helped with, many of the rituals he had undergone during the past few months. She watched as his skin, which at first appeared to be covered with a rash, became more leathery in appearance. She regretted his losing his hair and his looks, but it was necessary for him to be able to protect her. And she knew, after all this, that he was close to what he, and all of them sought: immortality. He would survive and return. And she would be there for him as he was for her.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a small group of Death Eaters entered the inner chamber.

"Your protector is dead, you whore. So prepare to join him."

She looked up to see her husband begin to level his wand at her. She was quicker. "Castrato!" she screamed. "Reducto!" she followed as she aimed her wand at the ceiling, and huge chunks of wood and plaster reined down upon the writhing, emasculated Rodolphus, and on Mulciber, Rabastan and Dolohov. Lucius Malfoy and Walden McNair simply turned and ran, disapparating back to their homes.

Having collected the wands of the four Death Eaters, she leaned down to whisper to them. "You can follow me or you can suffer what my dear husband felt. Either way, your balls are mine. Crucio!"

* * *

They were four months on the run when they heard of a possible safe house. Carefully, the now recovered but much more submissive Rodolphus, along with Rabastan, Mulciber, and Dolohov, entered the house while Belle stood behind to cover them. Suddenly, flashes of red shot out toward the four Death Eaters from an ambush site. Carefully, Belle crept around behind the Auror ambushers and ambushed them herself, stunning them both and grabbing their wands.

As she turned over the female Auror, Belle's eyes grew wide. Alice McKinnon. The woman who stole away Frank Longbottom. Suddenly, it all flashed before her eyes. Her chance to wed the strong, gentle, caring Frank Longbottom, dashed because of this woman. All the rapes, the tortures, the beatings, the humiliations at the hands of Rodolphus Lestrange and the others came because this woman interfered with her dreams. This cow. This bitch.

"CRUCIO!!!" Belle screamed.

Slowly, the other four Death Eaters emerged from their cover and watched Belle apply more and more power to her curse. Then Dolohov joined, applying a Cruciatus of his own to the stunned Frank Longbottom. Then Rabastan joined. Then Mulciber.

Rodolphus backed away. "We've got to get out of here," he whispered urgently. "Aurors always have backup." The others paid him no mind, following Belle's lead.

Suddenly, new curses began flashing as Auror reinforcements arrived. The last of the Death Eaters to fall was a maniacally laughing Bellatrix Lestrange.

* * *

There was little to see of the next thirteen years. Just writhing, delirium, vomiting, screaming, and nightmares. Azkaban.

Then she was free, and the air was fresh again.

She groveled at the feet of her resurrected master, her protector. "Get well, Bella," he told her. "There is much to avenge."

* * *

She was in the Department of Mysteries. She would take revenge on those who took away her protector, who cost her all those years in hell. And she would kill 'widdle baby Harry Potter.'

"Kill them!" she shouted at Lucius Malfoy.

"No, our Master wants the boy alive with the prophecy."

Their argument cost them the few moments they had needed to quickly defeat these upstart brats.

Then she saw Sirius. The taunter. The prankster. But most of all, the one who escaped the Black family when she could not. The duel frightened her. She had never fought an even-up duel against an experienced opponent before. And Sirius was very good. Then, as he taunted her, she saw her opening and hit him with a stunner. He fell back slowly through a wispy veil and was gone. And she knew he was dead. It frightened her, but she turned to look for another opponent. She found Harry Potter.

Harry Potter. The infant who destroyed her fragile world fourteen years ago, just as Alice McKinnon destroyed her world eighteen years ago when Belle was only a fourth year at Hogwarts.

She taunted baby Potter, as Sirius taunted her moments before. And she paid a price, being slammed backward by the force of the spell. But she didn't feel the pain she expected from the Cruciatus. His anger was righteous anger. Hers was ...

And then it was over. Voldemort rescued her yet again.

* * *

The pain was horrible. Voldemort's wrath was towering. She was to blame for the failure. Her argument with Lucius cost them the time they needed to secure the boy and the prophecy.

She was no longer Voldemort's favorite. Just one more foot soldier.

The punishments became more frequent. And in the time she spent alone in her room, her thoughts became more oppressive.

Potter's anger had been righteous, so he couldn't cast the Cruciatus.

So what was her anger? She hated Alice McKinnon. She hated her family. She hated Sirius. She hated Rodolphus and her fellow Death Eaters. So she inflicted pain, permanent damage and death.

There was nothing in her life left but hate. And she was tired of it. Insane? Yes, maybe. But not so insane as to ignore the evil of what she had done. Alice McKinnon Longbottom and Frank Longbottom had done nothing wrong. All they did was fall in love. Her sister Andy and Sirius had done nothing wrong. They were free spirits who had enough courage to fight back and defy their Black heritage. Her parents? They were dead now. And the Death Eaters? They deserved to die. Yet she did nothing, continuing to fight along side of them. No, she was the evil one. She would kill herself, but she feared hell would be worse than Azkaban, if that was possible.

There was no way out. No way out. No way out.

* * *

"Claim us!" she shouted.

And he did.

There was a way out.

And Harry Potter provided it.

* * *

Harry was shaking as he looked into her eyes as they lay there embracing each other. "He never touched you?"

Belle shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "No, I don't think the Dark Lord ever touched anyone except to kill. I was like a pet."

"But you cared for him."

Belle shook her head. "Only because he protected me. But he used me. I was just another of his weapons to motivate the Death Eaters. He knew they couldn't stand the humiliation of being tortured by a woman."

"It's over."

Belle lowered her eyes.

"Belle, look at me. Legilimens."

* * *

Harry and Belle were standing together on a great battlefield. 'Look, Belle. They're dead. All the ones who used you, who hurt you. They're all dead.'

Belle looked out over the field and saw the bodies.

'Come on, Belle. It's time to bury the dead.'

Harry took out his wand and opened a hole in the Earth. Flames rose out of the pit.

'Come, Belle. Bury the dead. The ones who hurt you.'

Slowly, Belle brought up her wand. She levitated Rodolphus's mangled body and cast him into the pit. The flames flared for an instant, then subsided. Then Rabastan. McNair. Dolohov. Mulciber. Lucius.

Slowly, Harry and Belle made their way to the top of the hill. What was left of Voldemort was slowly levitated over the gaping maw and dropped in. The flames roared for an instant, then sank back.

'Close the pit, Belle.'

Slowly, the scar in the Earth closed.

''They're gone. They're not coming back.'

Belle felt the probe in her mind. Then she looked down to see the graves of her parents, the ones who consigned her to hell and then wouldn't rescue her.

'They're both dead, Belle. They died while you were in prison. You saw their graves. That's why we can see them now. They can't harm you any more.'

'Does that mean I'm free?'

'No. You will always have to live with what you've done. But you're safe now. I'll do my best to protect you.'

* * *

Cissy padded down the hall and looked in Harry's room. He wasn't there. So she walked over to Belle's room and stopped and stared.

There, lying asleep fully clothed but entwined like lovers, were Harry and Belle. She frowned, but her face softened when she saw Belle's look. Her head was resting on Harry's shoulder, his arm protectively around her. Belle's expression, for the first time in her adult life, was one of peace.