A Muggle's Wand

A/N - Ladies and Gentlemen, here is my fan-fic. This story has been brewing for a long time, and I just cannot seem to put it away. Life keeps interfering, but when I close my eyes at night, I often still fiddle deep inside my mind with these characters. It is my hearts desire, that this fic remain Canon complaint, and I have spent countless hours researching every last detail and as new information becomes available, I adjust.

I enjoy the Heroine, the strong female lead. Naturally, this story centers around Hermione. JKR gave us such detail about Harry, I felt it was time to give Miss Granger some attention. Also, given her personality, I felt there was perhaps a good story in her change from Deathly Hallows to The Epilogue.

The intention was to give an exciting adventure, one that shapes the future, as well as strengthens bonds between family and friends. As much as I like happy endings, this story is not indented to be fluff, romantic, angst or filled with ultra-perfect characters.

It is my desire to tell a complete tale, where the characters are flawed, and bad things happen. There is romance, from my perspective, action and pain. I try my hardest to write in areas I am uncomfortable with, and try every day to push my skills as a writer.

I hope you enjoy this story, and as always, any and all comments are welcome. I did my very best to search back into the past, and relate everything to what I felt was a realistic appraisal of these kids in their 20's. My tone is mature, but I do my best to keep it within reason.

I have never known, friendship, like these characters have. Perhaps, one day, I will...

-SoK

Prologue: Bellatrix's New Pet

South London, September 28, 1982.

Eleven Months after the death of Lily and James Potter and the fall of Lord Voldemort.

He had less than two pounds to his name, and no hope of acquiring any more without another legally questionable and downright creative plan. Such plans were all he had left and all he had to show for his life overseas. Oh, how things went so much differently inside his head when he planned this venture. Standing in the tube station, on the Number Four platform, his stomach made a noise. It was time to improvise something to eat.

The tube station was a little too crowded for his tastes. The old woman he was following, the future victim of an improvisation, struck up a casual conversation with the tube station Constable, inadvertently saving her pocketbook from the skills of his fast fingers.

It was time to find another contributor to his sustenance requirements. Turning he walked up the stairs leading to the streets above, hoping there, in this late hour, the streets of London would be isolated. This might allow him an opportunity to pick a target, preferably someone vulnerable. Oh, with very little effort he could call even the stingiest of pocketbooks to his waiting hands; almost without even touching them, but he was a bit too hungry and a bit too desperate to try anything so risky. In the event someone saw him, he could all but disappear into a crowd; another spectacular skill he picked up over the years.

A nice elderly person would do, or an unsuspecting tourist, like an American. Yes, Americans always carried loads of cash in their wallets, but surely no American was dumb enough to be out at this hour and in this part of town. Then again, he was thinking about Americans.

The thought of his native people actually made him smile. Though he spent the majority of his life in Europe, deep down inside he knew he would return home to the United States one day. As he ascended the remaining stairs to the footpath, the wet chill of the autumn night's air hit his lungs forcefully. He pulled his long coat tighter around his frame.

He stood at the top of the tube staircase, surveying his surroundings. One and two storey homes lined both sides of the one-way cobblestone street. There was slight mist in the air, obscuring the light cast from the street lanterns. He could hear a distant couple arguing from one of the nearby homes, and down the street in the opposite direction, the sounds of a few gents exiting a pub trailed off as they walked further into the darkness. He closed his eyes, trying to listen.

Standing still, on the threshold of the staircase, he shoved his hands back into the pockets of his coat. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him. Just under two meters in height, perhaps he was twenty-five. His hair was mouse brown and moderately well kept for a man between residences. The features of his face, aside from looking like he missed a few meals, were rather simple, save his dark blue eyes. His eyes were small, but they indeed saw everything. His skin was starting to pale from the lack of sun brought on by autumn, and his face wore a week's worth of beard.

After another moment, he turned left and headed against the flow of traffic. Heading in the direction of the pub, he hoped his wanderings would lead him towards more people. There he could have his pick of any tipsy chap on his crawl home after a few too many pints.

He walked up on muffled voices much sooner than expected as he stopped outside a long alley between two shop fronts. Shop fronts? He hadn't realized he walked out of the area of apartment homes. The scenery hadn't changed enough for him to notice. This was a little upsetting, as he prided himself on seeing everything, yet was too distracted to notice anything. His mind felt muggy and filled with fog, as if everything he looked at turned into a stare and a loss of focus. He blinked his eyes a few times to bring his surroundings back into perspective, and immediately felt himself drifting out again. He shook his head and took a step towards the shop front connected to the alley. With his back to the red brick, he looked up and down the street for any other pedestrians. Things now stayed clear in his mind, though he could definitely feel the fog in his mind like a tidal wave held in stasis by pure will alone. Something was happening to him, but he didn't know what.

He heard the muffled voices again, this time definitely coming from down the alley. He moved towards the entrance minding several puddles in the cobble to remain stealthy. Too many experiences as a thief ensured he was a master of not being seen if he did not wish it. As long as no one stared directly at him, he could almost become part of the surroundings. It was a skill he could never explain, but quite often used.

He slinked inside the alley, keeping his back to the corridor wall and drifted behind a large rubbish bin just inside the walkway. Peering over the bin from a crouched position he could see two figures at the opposite end. They were both tall, wearing cloaks of black that seemed to stretch all the way to the ground. The mist in the air diffused the light, making it difficult to make out faces, but he could still hear the men whispering. For a split second he thought perhaps these two were club goers, enjoying the newfound, if not somewhat weird, eighties movement of fashion and music. Their conversation made him think otherwise.

From their tone it was definitely an argument, but he couldn't completely understand what they were saying. They spoke English, but were using words he did not understand.

"Fucking horrid location!" the man on the left whispered with spite. "There are Muggles everywhere, if we have to fight, they will see!"

Muggle? he thought. What the bloody hell is a Muggle? He leaned closer to the bin in an attempt to hear more.

"Relax, Krizzen." the black-cloaked man on the right replied. "The Aurors are obligated to protect the Muggles, so any battle here gives us the advantage. They hunt Death Eaters, which is why we need to be here, away from the magical community, and away from stray eyes."

Magical community? These mates are tossers! the man thought to himself, wondering if he stumbled on escapees from the nearest loony hospital. However, when a third man in black robes appeared from nowhere, he realized these men were not crazy. Black smoke appeared with the sound of a POP, and took the shape of this new arrival, whose bright, long-blonde hair made for stark contrast against his midnight robes.

"Lucius!" one of the men screamed with a whisper. "You're late!"

"Plans have changed, the Aurors have Narcissa!" the man called Lucius explained with an arrogant tone in his voice. "Bellatrix shall join you in my stead; I must go and get my wife. She will explain what needs to be done."

Oh great, I get to be a witness, lovely! he whispered into his mind with a tone that sounded like the audio manifestation of rolling your eyes. He wondered if his luck could possibly get any worse. There was no possible way of getting out of this alley. The man called Lucius was facing his direction and would surely see if he stood up.

"Bellatrix is tracking the Longbottoms right now, and as soon as she finds out anything, she will join you. Wait here for her, she shall tell you all you need to know."

Almost instinctively the two men bowed to the blonde man, and with a raise of his hand he vanished with a loud Pop!. He appeared to be holding a foot long wooden stick in the hand he raised. Surely not!

A few minutes passed as he listened to the two men talk. Their tone was now much less angry towards each other, and at some times actually sounded excited. Whatever they were about to do, they were excited. His curiosity was piqued: Muggles, Lucius, Bellatrix, someone called the Dark Lord, and someone named Longbottom. There was a man named something Snape they mentioned. Several people named Black, and something about an Order of the Phoenix. Oh, and there was that whole bit about them all appearing to brandish a "magic wand." Magic wand?" he thought, again in the tone of ridiculous. This was his name for it, but could it be what those really were? Impossible! However, he just saw a man appear and vanish before his eyes. He prided himself on being very observant, and very levelheaded. He knew he required more information, but for now he would just take in what he saw.

Out of nowhere, he heard footsteps behind him. He froze in his spot and slowly turned his head around to see who was coming. Something was definitely wrong inside his mind, this fog, no one had been able to sneak up on him in years. He wondered if another one of their lot appeared and discovered his location. Perhaps whomever these two are hiding from has arrived, this Order.

His eyes focused on a figure walking down the center of the alley. The figure moved slowly, and held a light in his left hand and his right was on his right hip. He could tell from the silhouette cast that this man was a Constable, his hand on his gun.

Bollocks! he thought he would be seen for sure!

Just as the beam of the Constable's light was about to fix in on him behind the rubbish bin, it snapped away in the direction of the cloaked men at the other end of the alley. Concentrating with all his might to blend in with his surroundings, the Constable walked right past him, focusing on the other two men.

"Who goes there?" the Constable yelled, in a very authoritative tone.

He could hear the ruffle of fabric, and chose not to wait any longer to look back over the bin. The two men had drawn "magic wands" of their own, which they held fixed in on the intruder.

"Have you ever been able to get the spell right?" one of the men whispered angrily to the other, he wasn't sure which. "Have you ever been able to Confund an area, ever?"

Spell? Confund? He was beginning to think this couldn't get any weirder.

"Bloody hell!" the other voice whispered back. "We all have our spells we cannot pull off, let me see you do Levicorpus."

Levi-what?

"I will take care of him," one man said beginning to step forward towards the Constable. His wand outstretched as the Constable moved the light into the man's face.

"Oi, mate!" he said, obviously trying to sound charming. "We's just passing through, trying to figure our way back to the tube."

"Tube is this way, I can show you." the Constable said, pointing the back up the alley in which he entered. "Follow me."

As the Constable turned his back, the man with the wand walked right under the only light in the alley, which slightly illuminated his face. From behind the bin, he could see clearly, every detail as the man raised the wand, aimed it and yelled, "STUPEFY!"

There was a flash of red light; something appeared to come out of the end of his wand. It traveled as fast a bullet hitting the man squared in the back sending him flying through the alley past the rubbish bin. He couldn't believe what just happened. This really was magic!

Holy shit! Bloody amazing!

"What the hell?" The wizard yelled, looking down at his wand. The spell did not kill the Constable; he was dazed but slowly getting to his feet. He noticeably reached for his weapon and was rising to his feet when a new voice broke the deadened silence of the alley.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" a female voice screamed. A flash of green light engulfed the Constable and sent him soaring back in the direction from where he had just come moments before. The green light seemed to penetrate the Constable as he soared and tumbled through the air. At the very last second he realized the Constable was coming right towards where he was hiding, giving him a mere millisecond to brace himself for impact.

The collision was as he expected. The Constable landed square on top of him, pinning him against both the brick wall and the bin. He could see immediately there was no life left in the Constable. The adrenaline coursing through his veins cleared his head and his ringing ears within seconds. Things were getting weirder by the second, when he realized who the newest member of the group was.

Hmph, he thought, This must be that Bellatrix woman.

Pinned underneath the corpse of the murdered Constable he laughed silently in his mind, adding humor just to keep from having a heart attack. His mind responded almost immediately, processing what just happened. Abracadabra? That couldn't be what she just said? Impossible!

"My lady Bellatrix," one of the two men said, noticeable panic in his voice.

He peered from around the Constable's corpse to see a very slender woman standing where the Constable stood just moments ago. She wore a black gown silhouetted by the streetlights behind her. Her hair appeared jet black, and had a frizz to it that looked quite chaotic and intentional. Two more figures dressed in black appeared behind her. He could tell Bellatrix expected them, based on her lack of reaction to their arrival.

"Idiots!" She yelled. "Fucking idiots! We have work to do, and I find you here trifling with Muggles! Wait until the Dark Lord hears of your disobedience!"

"Forgive us my lady," one man said with a bow. "He arrived just before you; I assure you we were not playing with him. They don't normally move after being stunned, something is wrong. We are having trouble with simple spells."

Bellatrix lowered her wand, but the look on her face did not diminish. "I do not care about your inabilities! You are lucky, Krizzen; we have work to do," "The five of us have a date with the Longbottoms--and I will need your help if I am to get my hands on that bitch, Alice Longbottom. ." Bellatrix turned to the other two, "Barty, Rodolphus, go to where I told you and wait for me." She turned back to the man called Krizzen and the other standing next to him. "Toya, check the Constable to make sure he is dead," Bellatrix added, as if unsure of her own spell, "and we will leave immediately." The men she called Barty and Rodolphus nodded their heads and vanished.

He wasn't sure when exactly he placed his hand on the Constable's firearm, but with the man called Toya's footsteps getting closer he knew it was a good idea. The footsteps approached him, pinned under the corpse. His eyes were closed and he prayed he would not be discovered.

"Bloody hell!" Toya exclaimed. "LUMOS!"

He could see a bright light through his eyelids, and knew at once he was a secret no longer.

"There's someone else here, a street rat MUGGLE!" Toya yelled pulling corpse off of him. "Filthy MUGGLE!"

He opened his eyes, as if just waking from a long nap and raised his free hand to shield his eyes from a light coming from the end of Toya's wand. "Oi," he yelled, trying to act as drunk as possible. "This is my spot; go find your own place to sleep." He added a significant slur, both to hide his accent and add some belief to his act.

The light of Toya's wand changed from white to pink without a word, and the pink light grabbed him around the throat hurling him off the ground and slamming him into the brick wall a foot off the ground. The wand held inches from his throat, and he knew he would need to act soon before he ran out of air.

"Tukston!" Bellatrix yelled, apparently speaking Toya's last name. His head turned to face her. "Finish him, I don't care who--"

The sound of the gun firing seemed to startle everyone, except Bellatrix. Everyone else flinched as a large pink mist erupted from the back of Toya Tukston's head. He pulled the gun from behind his back when Toya had looked over to Bellatrix. He and Toya hit the ground almost together, and as Toya's lifeless body collapsed next to him, he gasped desperately for air. He made a series of choking noises scrambling around in the large pool of Toya's blood. His act disguised his prize: the magic wand he snatched from Toya on the way down.

No one made a sound until Bellatrix. Her stunned look quickly turned to amusement as she let out a quick cackle of laugher followed by a deeper belly laugh of hysteria.

Oh, this one's a right nutter! he thought as she slid his fingers down to what felt like the hilt of the wand.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Bellatrix yelled, and the pistol flipped out of his hands.

Expel-what? he thought. I need to remember that one! He really didn't want to expose that he had taken Toya's wand, but now that he lost the pistol he definitely needed a new plan. He rolled over quickly, and pointed the wand at Bellatrix's face.

She laughed even louder. "And what do you expect to do with that, Muggle?" she snorted, raising her arms out straight to give him a clear shot. The beauty stepped forward, and for the first time he could really see her. Perhaps thirty years old, she was without a doubt, gorgeous in a scary as all get out sort of way. She certainly had a look of pure insanity as she stood there, arms outstretched, cackling.

"I don't want any trouble, love." he gasped trying to act suave, and failing. "I was too busy hiding to hear anything, just let me go!" He could hear Krizzen run up behind him.

"Christ, Toya's got a god-damn hole in his head the size of me fist!" Krizzen yelled, in a panicked accent previously unrecognizable. "There's fucking blood everywhere!"

"Toya was an idiot, he always was." Bellatrix said, still staring at the man with the wand in her face. "A tad fitting he is killed by a Muggle."

Ah-hah! Muggle, a non-magical person! He wasn't terribly sure if he had it right, but the thought snapped his mind back into the moment, and with the wand he pointed at Bellatrix.

"Just let me go," he said standing to his feet, Toya's wand pointed still at her.

Bellatrix looked back at him, as her straight face morphed into a smile. "Oh, I don't think you will be walking out of here, matey. You killed a Death Eater! You have much to answer for."

"Please, I don't want to hurt you!" The man held Toya's wand in Bellatrix's face. It did not shake, but held quite firm.

"Hurt me?" Bellatrix snorted again with an air of astonishment. "Oh pretty, pretty boy, in what universe do you think you could ever hurt me?"

He raised the wand a tad higher.

"The curse is Avada Kedavra." she said, as Krizzen made a gasp behind him. "It's the Killing Curse, and the one I used on that git over there."

"Aye, the green one."

"It is impossible to defend, impossible to block, and aside from a one year old boy who will not live to see two, impossible to survive. The only catch is, you have to really hate to pull it off. I mean really hate!" her tone was condescending but he did believe her. "You have to take all of your love and piss on it. You have to take all of your hate and poke it in the eye." she gestured a stabbing motion with her wand as the instructions got more animated. "Take everything horrid anyone has ever done to you and make it grow inside you, like stubbing your bare toes on the chamber door every two seconds for a thousand years. You have to pick at it, twist it, torture it, and make it hate you! And then call forth the curse and channel all that rage through the end of your wand!"

"Sounds lovely," he replied. What was that spell, that first one? Think!

"NOW DO IT!" She screamed, her tone moving rapidly from giddy to plain nasty. "You get the first shot, and I assure you I will kill you when you fail, so you might as well go out fighting."

"Piss off." He retorted, in a desperate attempt to stall. He couldn't remember the spell Krizzen used to send the Constable flying.

"CRUCIO!" She yelled, and the flash of red light from her wand brought with it a new definition to the word pain. He could hear her cackling, but his mind seemed stuck in mud as the spell ripped through him. His eyes seared closed and when he opened them Bellatrix was standing directly in front of him deriving a sort of sick sexual pleasure from the pain she was causing.

He didn't make a sound, as he had no energy to speak. The pain was nothing like he remembered, nothing like breaking bones as a child or being burned when he was a cook. Definitely not like a broken heart, but yet, at the same time, a combination of the three multiplied by a million.

She released him. "I am impressed, you lovely American Muggle. You bore that well, most scream for the heavens and to any creator they can imagine when I do that, pretty." Still holding her wand at him, she dropped her arms again to expose her chest, now heaving in her black corset. "I am at your mercy Muggle-lovely, you must kill me or this will never end!"

What was that damned spell? ...Stupefy! He recanted what she said about the Killing Curse, about hate, and did everything she said inside himself to stir up his emotions. The fresh taste of blood and her curse in his mouth made it much easier to call his pain. When it felt like he was going to erupt, he closed his eyes to channel it. As he opened them, he saw Bellatrix stepping towards him again. With an exhale, he released the river inside him.

"STUPEFY!" He yelled with all his might, as a red disturbance launched from the end of his wand.

The spell caught her square in the face and sent her flying backwards, flipping her feet over her head. Unlike the Constable, she did not hit the ground. She transformed into an opaque cloud of black smoke taking flight in twisting charcoal wisps erratically circling the alley.

Fully expecting to be killed from behind by Krizzen, he snapped around, facing where the man should have been, only to see what was left of his black smoke as he rose up to join Bellatrix in formation overhead. Bellatrix's cackle laugh echoed through the alley, discouraging any thought he may have, in fact, killed her.

"Pretty Muggle, dead Muggle trying to be a wizard, ha!" She echoed with a laugh. "Krizzen, to Spinner's End you go, and the house of Severus. I will be there in ten minutes, go!" Bellatrix commanded from her cloud of smoke overhead.

"Yes, my lady." Krizzen's voice trailed off as his smoke vanished. "Enjoy your kill."

The charcoal cloud of Bellatrix circled over his head like a shark trying to decide how best to enjoy a good meal.

He snapped his mind back into focus, forcing his legs to answer his brain's screams to run. Just as he began to move, Bellatrix reappeared from a cloud of smoke dropping like black sand being poured from a wheel cart on the roof. Her wand appeared first protruding from the veil evaporating to reveal the rest of her. She moved in on him with elegant grace, as the tips of their wands passed each other like ships in the channel. Her eyes burned with lust and insanity.

Startled, he blinked her into focus. Just as he pursed his lips to cast 'Stupefy' on her again, the tip of her wand touched his throat. What felt like a hundred thousand volts of electric current ripped through his flesh sending him back against the brick. Bellatrix never let the end of her want separate itself from his skin as she advanced. Again he made no sound, which actually wasn't too impressive. Whatever she was doing to him now, was at best, one-tenth of the 'Crucio' spell she did to him only moments ago.

She released the spell, but did not remove the wand-tip from his neck. He could see her now, as the tears washed from his eyes, coming into focus. Her skin was extremely pale, and he was impressed with her beauty. She was still breathing heavily, her black hair and black dress in direct contrast to her milky white skin, which was interrupted by two trickles of bright red blood dripping from her nose, which he assumed was where his spell hit her.

She noticed him staring at her mouth and smiled. Her pink tongue sneaked out past her dark lips to taste the blood on them. She looked down, tasted her blood, looked back up at him and smiled a bloody toothed smile.

"Good doggy," she whispered with a rasp in her voice and patted his head in a deliberate and exaggerated motion. The look in her eyes was perhaps the most disturbing look he had ever seen on the face of any living person in his whole life.

He moved his hand to turn his wand towards her, but her reaction was instantaneous. The electric current flooded him again and for a brief second he thought he felt his body shudder. Again, he was in the place in his mind where he went when she did either of those two spells. He was extremely aware of the pain, but at the same time disconnected from it. He was a prisoner inside his head, until such time as she released him.

When he came to this time, she was still in front of him and still wore that same disturbing expression with her wand still at his throat. Only this time, his wand hand was pinned to the brick wall by her free hand holding his wrist. She had not disarmed him.

"Bad doggy, pretty Muggle," she said again in a scratch. "Doggy needs punishing, eh?"

He looked at her, but did not speak.

"Pretty boy are you afraid of little, old Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"I think I have a very good right to be." He couldn't believe he spoke, and the look on her face showed them sharing this moment of bewilderment.

"Pretty doggy talks to Bellatrix," she said rhetorically. "Pretty Muggle man has the nerve to address me? I was the Dark Lord's favorite; I will help him rise again. Such a ghastly time this is, when Muggle dogs like you, pretty, think they are permitted to speak to me. Little, old Bellatrix Lestrange is a noble and honorable Death Eater from the pure-blooded Black family, pretty doggy." Her grip on his wrist seared him with pain as she gouged her black fingernails into his skin. She blinked, realizing she had lost her train of thought as she snarled her bloodstained teeth at him.

"The curse is pronounced, 'Av-ada Ke-dav-ra'!" she yelled, leaning into him and slowly emphasizing the syllables of the curse. She pressed her wand deep into the side of his neck, moving it slightly from his voice box to allow him to speak.

"'Avada Kedavra'?" He said with a small amount of caution, but nothing happened, as his wand remained dormant.

"Muggle dog has good pronunciation," she cackled with a laugh. He thought her left eyebrow rose, but that thought was rudely interrupted by the return of the electric spell. Once again he was in his purgatory until she set him free.

The alley and Bellatrix came into focus again, and before he realized it he had already spoken.

"How can you do that without speaking?" He belched at her quickly.

As if expecting him to speak, she gathered a mouth full of blood and spit in his face from just a few inches away. "Pretty Muggle doggy thinks that he is entitled audience with the Dark Lady Bellatrix simply because he can withstand pain! Filthy, disgusting Muggle vermin!"

"Forgive me, my lady." He said, improvising to show her some respect, though he clearly had none for her. She smiled.

"Mudblood Muggle doesn't know some spells are verbal and others are not. The stronger the witch, the stronger is her ability to learn to cast spells silently. Thus avoiding a counter curse in defense, CRUCIO!" She didn't even pause to speak the 'Crucio,' as if it belonged in her last sentence. 'Crucio', the worst of the two spells, seemed to come as a reward, whereas the lesser was punishment. For some reason, this didn't seem odd to him.

He picked his head up when she relinquished him from 'Crucio.' Snot was dripping from his nose, or perhaps it was blood, he couldn't be sure.

"The curse!" she screamed, still stabbing his neck with her wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" He bellowed, and although his wand shuddered in his hand, nothing happened.

He opened his eyes, and saw sky this time. She was holding his head up by his hair, with her hand curled in with his brown locks, now soaked with sweat. She used his hair to knock his skull off the bricks a few times then pushed his face to the right with her wand hand turning it towards his wand. It was still pinned against the brick with her other hand as she continued her insane laugh. Blood was dripping from where her fingernails still impaled his wrist.

He looked at his wand, and seemed to have an epiphany as to what she was trying to do. Excitement filled him. He had heard for years that sometimes hostages fall in love with their captors; it was at this very second he understood why. Captors took their hostages to another world, and once returned to reality the hostages wanted to go back. He felt something inside his chest swell for her, he took a deep breath, let his eyes roll back into their sockets for a split second before focusing on the end of his wand.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" The pulse of green light seemed to leap out of the wand before he had even finished saying the spell. It shot straight out of his wand, along the wall and right out the end of the alley, vanishing somewhere across the street down the opposite alley. He smiled.

Bellatrix gasped, and released both his wrist and his neck. He slumped all the way to the cobblestones beneath his feet as his legs completely gave out. Amazed at how strong she was, he had not realized how much she was holding him up. She backed away muttering to herself, as he attempted to get back to his feet. She glided and twirled up and down the alley giving her impression of a graceful dancer.

"Muggle, mudblood can do the Killing Curse, ha ha! Muggle pretty is a good doggy; he can do the Killing Curse, ha ha!" She continued to cackle until she realized he was on his feet, wiping the sweat off his brow with his wand hand.

She ran over to him, he face beaming. Her dark gray lipstick smeared across her face and mixed with blood. She grabbed him by both shoulders, her wand curled in one finger of her right hand. She was so happy she has hopping, shaking her head left and right.

"Bellatrix has a secret weapon! Bellatrix has a secret weapon! A pretty slave Muggle pretty doggy! One that no Ministry of Magic," she turned her head and spat, "can ever detect! Pretty, slave doggy of Bellatrix."

He just looked at her, half smiling, half shaking his head as if someone had just given him an open can of motor oil for Christmas. He didn't know what to do or say. She smiled with yet another disturbed look of excitement on her face. Without warning she leaned in and licked him, from chin to brow then returning again to arms length and cackling.

Bellatrix released him and seemed to regain her composure, reaching into a fold of her corset to remove a watch on a chain. She looked at the time, and shouted "Bollocks!" Stuffing the watch back where it came from, she ran her wand hand through her black hair, looking up and down the alley. She was obviously not as good as him at improvising.

Finally she seemed to have a plan, and turned towards him with a snap of her finger. Her face lit up in excitement as she stepped towards him, and raised her wand.

"IMPERIO!" She said, and with a flash of white light, all the cares in the world seemed to drop from his mind. His arms dropped to his side, and he assumed the most vacant of expressions.

"Quickly now, doggy. Oh, I can't call you doggie, what would the house elves think?" She said with a laugh, smacking her forehead with her wand. "Your name is now Serahn, and I, doggy Serahn, am your mistress. In other words, your master. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mistress," he said on cue, causing her to smile.

"Do you live near here?"

"No, mistress."

"Where is your home?" she asked, speaking quickly, looking up and down the alley.

"I have none, mistress."

"Okay, there is a Muggle Inn down this street, do you know it?" She said pointing her wand hand down the right side of the alley.

"Yes, mistress. It is called the Shropshire."

"Yes, that's the one. You go there, check in, and await my return. I want you cleaned, groomed and dressed in all black to honor the nobility of my pure-blood family's name. Do you understand?"

"No, mistress," he said without expression.

"What?" she screamed, stepping back and raising her wand. "No, you will not honor my family, or no you do not understand?"

"No, I am unable mistress. I haven't any money," Serahn said without an expression.

"Ah, now that is an issue, doggy Serahn." Bellatrix paused and moved her wand hand to her mouth in contemplation. "Doggy needs Muggle money. Where am I gonna get vermin money?" She whispered to herself repeatedly several times, before stopping in mid-step and smiling. "Doggy Serahn, do you remember the name of the curse I just put on you?"

"Yes, mistress. You called--"

"Wait!" She screamed, stepping forward to grab the wrist of his wand hand. She moved it away from her, back to the pinned position on the wall from when she had him perform the Killing Curse, with her shoulders high and pointing down the alley towards the street. She laughed aloud at herself rolling her eyes, not completely sure what would happen if two people put the Imperius Curse on each other, and she definitely did not want to find out. "Go ahead, say it."

"IMPERIO!" Serahn said, as a white flash of light shot from the end of his wand.

"Impossible!" Bellatrix laughed with a snort. "You, my pretty, are a fast learner. Lady Bellatrix might just owe you a good tumble for being such a good doggy. You must have some skill inside your mud blood because I didn't think it was possible to do what you just did. Impossible or not, Bellatrix will use you."

"Yes, mistress," Serahn replied in cue with emotionless words.

"Now, to end the spell, you say Repracto. Say it."

"REPRACTO!" Serahn said in a dry tone, as a sound of air being quickly sucked through a straw emanated from his wand. There was no light.

"Good, good!" she screamed with a giggle, releasing his hand and jumping up and down with excitement. "That's a good slave doggy! Now, you are to use this curse to get yourself the things you need. Food, Muggle transportation and whatever else you filthy animals need to survive. But heed this warning, doggy of mine," she grabbed his face and turned it back from his wand to face hers. The fire in her eyes, so intense even through the Imperius Curse, Serahn could feel it. "No one, and I fucking mean no one, is to ever see this wand. They are not to see you use it, possess it, or have any knowledge of how to use it. If you are caught with it, you and I never meet. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mistress." Serahn exhaled as Bellatrix released her grip on his face. She reached again inside her corset fold to remove her watch and look at it. She let out an exhale through her bloodied nose.

"Do you understand what I ordered you to do?" Bellatrix asked again, apparently unfamiliar with exact levels of control of the Imperius Curse.

"Yes, mistress."

"Damnit, pretty slave boy, repeat back everything I have told you."

"You are Bellatrix Lestrange of a noble, pure-blooded family. Stupefy stuns," as he said that, the Stupefy spell jumped from his wand tip, prompting Bellatrix to reaffirm her grip on his wrist. "Expelliarmus disarms." A red spell was launched down the alley. "Lumos casts light. Some spells can be cast non-verbally, depending on the strength of the witch." Bellatrix began to smile, realizing his level of absorption. "Avada Kedavra is the Killing Curse. Imperio is the Imperius Curse. Repracto ends the Imperius Curse. I am to go to the Shropshire Inn, check in, bathe, groom and await your arrival in black to honor your family. I am to use the Imperius Curse to acquire food, lodging and transportation from other Muggles. And, under no circumstances is anyone to ever see me possess or use a wand."

Bellatrix stood there smiling, stunned, as if contemplating all the mischief she would cause through him. "Perhaps, with the Dark Lord away, if the Death Eaters have to go in hiding it wouldn't be a total loss if I have you to do my bidding."

"Yes, mistress."

"Enough!" she yelled, shoving his head back into the bricks. "Knock that vacant doggy look off your face," she yelled and smacked him hard across the cheek. "I command you to snap out this and grow a damn personality. You are no good to me if you are walking around like a damn Inferi."

Serahn blinked and smiled, bowing his head in an exaggerated sign of respect. "Whatever you command, my lady Bellatrix."

"Well, that's a start," she screamed with a belly cackle. "I will fix you more later. Now go, do what you need to do. I will come for you in a few days, once the smoke clears from what I am about to do."

"Yes, mistress," Serahn gapped with a smile of sarcasm, bowed his head and turned to walk away.

"Wait, pet," she yelled, and walked towards him. He turned around to face her, finding her wand pressed into his shirt right over the heart. In a glow of purple light, the tip of her wand burned his flesh, clear through his shirt.

In a very low serious voice just above a whisper she spoke to Serahn slowly. "Are you such a dumb Muggle doggy that I need to explain just exactly how bad things will be for you should you betray me?"

Serahn smiled, and took a deep breath, bearing the pain of her burn. "No mistress Bellatrix, I will not betray you."

Bellatrix laughed again, only this time she jumped around in circles, her black hair bouncing on the milky white skin of her shoulders. "Now go, doggie Serahn, I shall return soon."

As he walked away, he heard her disappear with a crack. Turning at the end of the alley in the direction of the hotel, he glanced back up where she was once standing. The alley was empty.

* * *

Six days later, still in the one hundred and twenty pound-a-night suite in the Shropshire, Bellatrix was nowhere to be found. Sitting on the couch in the main room of his suite, he was watching television. Dressed all in black slacks and a pressed black button down shirt, he waited. On October 4th, 1982, at approximately seventeen minutes past ten in the morning, the Imperius Curse Bellatrix placed on him lifted. He felt its control wash away from him like a heavy winter coat falling from his shoulders to the floor. Serahn's head dropped with a sigh.

Bellatrix Lestrange was either dead, or had released him.

He thought the latter was unlikely.