Quill of Darkness

Quill of Darkness

Prologue: Prisoner of My Mind

Azkaban is dark. There is nothing like light, no hint of anything other than gloom and despair. The sun, moon and stars are not here to show the passing of time, and Time itself seems dead and frozen.

Frozen. Azkaban is cold: cold stone, cold water, cold hands, cold mind...cold spirit.

Dementors. The dementors regularly patrol, every hour, but at night they are allowed to run free, sucking every shred of hope and sanity out of the prisoners.

Prisoner. That is what I am now, a prisoner; and not just a prisoner of Azkaban. I am a prisoner of my mind.

The dementors have been let free three times, I think. Does that mean that it has only been three days and three nights since my trial? Merlin, it seems like an eternity. I have tried to resist the dementors' power, but I am weakening.

"But Bella, he's old, and ugly, and he's...foreign! I'm not sure he even speaks English! Are you going to set aside your life and marry him, just to please Mother?"

Weak! That is a word I never thought I would use in reference to myself. To others, yes; to myself? Never!

"I'm a Slytherin. Slytherins don't make friends."

I cannot blame the other Death Eaters for wanting to avoid this Hell, but I cannot help but hate them for their disloyalty.

"Perhaps we should just ignore that fact and do it anyway."

The dementors sweep past me again.

" Have you ever heard of castor bean powder?"

Cold.

"I'm not proposing friendship. I was suggesting an alliance."

I am drowning.

"Perhaps? Definitely!"

I give up the struggle and give in to my memories....

*~*~*

Chapter One: Of Chandeliers and Lies

CRASH!

"Bellatrix! What are you doing?! I thought you were checking on your sisters!"

Silence.

"Bellatrix, where are you?"

Still, silence.

"That's it!" snapped Estrella Black. She slammed the paper she held onto the table, rose gracefully from the ornate mahogany chair, and swept from the room.

Systematically, she began checking all the rooms on the ground floor. If Bellatrix were doing something that was forbidden, as was likely, considering both the noise and the child in question, then she was probably not in her room. Then again, reflected Mrs. Black, she might be just there to avoid--

CRASH!

"BELLATRIX!"

The noise had most definitely come from the first floor. Mrs. Black Apparated into the hallway above with a sharp crack! She stood there quietly, straining her ears, trying to catch any sound that would give a hint of her eldest daughter's whereabouts. Upon hearing nothing, she called, "Bobble!"

"Yes Mistress?" The house-elf, who had appeared out of nowhere at the summons, bowed.

"Where is Bellatrix?" asked Mrs. Black, not even bothering to look at Bobble.

"In Mistress' quarters, if you please," replied Bobble, still looking at her feet.

"Oh is she? Well then I hope she doesn't want supper!" exclaimed Mrs. Black, somewhat distractedly, and mostly to herself. She took several quick steps forward, and then recalled that the house-elf was still standing in the hallway.

"Go back to Andromeda and Narcissa," she said, curtly.

"Yes Mistress." The house-elf bowed again, snapped her fingers, and disappeared, presumably to the nursery, as the rooms that the three girls occupied were called; mostly for lack of a better name.

Mrs. Black made her way rapidly to the Master Suite and burst through the door into the sitting room.

In the middle of the room stood a tall girl of about ten or eleven. Her dark hair reached below her shoulder blades and was tied loosely back in an effort to keep it away from her face. She was calmly examining a shattered crystal chandelier, the remains of which had fallen onto the low table directly beneath it. Having evidently found its demolition satisfactory, the girl raised her right hand, which grasped a slim, highly-polished maple wand, spun quickly, and pointed it at the ornate mirror on the opposite wall.

"Reducto!"

A jet of light shot from the wand and struck the mirror directly in its centre. The mirror burst into several million pieces, and the glass shards flew in all directions.

The girl, Bellatrix, had enough sense to drop to the floor, being sheltered by the settee.

Mrs. Black settled for jumping back outside the room and slamming the door. She stood there in the hall in complete shock, her hand frozen on the door handle.

Just as she returned to her senses, several moments after the sound of falling glass had stopped, Bellatrix's voice said, "Obserare!" Mrs. Black started. Could Bellatrix have performed a very strong version of that locking spell with her mother's wand? Mrs. Black did not think so--she and her daughter, while they shared many of the same features, weren't terribly alike in character, and somehow maple and phoenix feather didn't sound like it would fit Bellatrix's personality.

"With my luck, she'll probably have managed it anyway," muttered Mrs. Black as she tried the door handle.

As it turned out, Bellatrix had managed it. She had quite successfully locked her mother out, and Mrs. Black's only wand was locked inside her own room!

"Damn it!"

***

On the other side of the door, the same words were echoed at almost the same time.

"Damn it!"

Bellatrix looked hopelessly at the gaping hole in the wall where the mirror had been. She now had a very clear view into her parent's bedroom. Not only had she managed to completely disintegrate the mirror, but she had practically blown up the entire wall behind it! In front of her mother, no less!

Mummy-dear is not going to be very happy about this. And she would have to walk in just then. I don't suppose I'll be able to get out of it now, since I can't go bully a house-elf into cleaning it up, since I've as good as locked myself in here. First lesson in crime: don't get caught.

Blast it! If she'd only buy me a wand like I keep asking her to, then I wouldn't have to sneak around to practice. And her wand feels all wrong anyway. It's too...it feels too clean, or something.

But I suppose I'd better fix the chandelier. Even if Mother isn't ticked about that, Father will be. I hope he's late tonight. Then maybe Mother won't have time to tell him about this, and they'll all forget about it in the morning.

While these thoughts passed through her head, Bellatrix began clumsily attempting to repair the damage she had done.

"Reparo...reparo! Reparo, damn it!"

***

Note to self: get a spare wand. Ugh!

Mrs. Black slumped in the hallway, trying somewhat dazedly to work out how to get her wand away from her offspring, access her bedroom, and how in the world was she going to repair all the things Bellatrix had destroyed? The child was a menace to society!

But she would make a good Slytherin. Mrs. Black had never suspected that when Bellatrix asked her to read over and correct her essay, she'd had alternate plans in mind. Even when the girl had offered to go check on 'Cissa, (the child was wailing morosely, and she could be heard throughout the entire house,) Mrs. Black had thought little of it. She had been far too engrossed in reading Bellatrix's history report and marvelling at the effort her daughter evidently put into her schoolwork to worry about whether Bellatrix was brewing poisons in the cellar or manufacturing bombs in her bedroom.

On reflection, blowing up crystal chandeliers and shattering French vases was not all that bad, in the long run. They could be repaired without too much effort. Perhaps if she knocked on the door, explained that she was not going to punish Bellatrix and politely requested that she stop blowing up her parents' rooms.... Yes, that might work. There was no doubt that Bellatrix would be in Slytherin, and Slytherins knew a deal when they saw one.

***

Bellatrix lay slumped against the couch, glaring balefully at the crystal chandelier, which had defied, utterly and completely, all of her efforts to make it whole again. The best result Bellatrix got out of some fifteen minutes of shouting at it was a slight wiggle of two pieces before they collapsed again.

It's remarkable how much crystals can resemble socks in the limp department when they so choose, thought Bellatrix randomly, still glaring at the wreckage.

She jumped at the sound of her mother's voice, muffled as it was through the door.

"Bellatrix?"

"Yes, Mother," replied Bellatrix dutifully.

Great. A lecture, a punishment, and no supper. Just great.

"I'd like to...propose a solution to the current problem."

"I'm listening," said Bellatrix noncommittally.

"First, I'd like to congratulate you on your stealth. Until I heard that first crash, I had no idea that you were not in the nursery. You're a tribute to your Father."

Wonder what that says about me, thought Bellatrix, smirk sliding into place at the thought.

"Secondly, I'd like to offer you a deal. Unlock the door, give me my wand, let me repair the damage. In return, you will not be punished, and I will not mention this to your Father."

"Done," said Bellatrix, without a second thought. As long as she wasn't going to be punished, she really didn't care what her mother wanted. Bellatrix would have decapitated a house-elf with a butter knife if she thought it might get her out of trouble.

"Alohamora!" intoned Bellatrix in a rather bored voice.

The door opened and Mrs. Black entered the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of the blasted-to-bits wall, and her lips thinned when her eyes fell upon the broken chandelier, but she said nothing about either of these displeasing things.

"Here you are," said Bellatrix as she handed her mother's wand back to its proper owner. "That thing gives me hand cramps. When will you get me a--" She was interrupted by the ringing of the wards as someone Apparated into them. Bellatrix looked questioningly at her mother. It was too early for Father to be home, and Mother didn't have anyone who was supposed to call, or all the children would have been notified.

Mrs. Black sighed. "Come with me, we'll see who it is." Mother and daughter made their way to the ground floor. As they reached the hall, a knock sounded on the door. Mrs. Black opened it.

"Hello, is this the Black residence?" asked a perky redheaded witch, despite the fact that it was hard to miss the Black family crest on the door.

"Yes, it is. I am Estrella Black," returned Mrs. Black, somewhat warily.

"I'm Hilda Ryan," said the witch, smiling and offering her hand. Mrs. Black didn't take it.

"Did you want something, Miss Ryan?"

Hilda Ryan's bright smile faded and she became noticeably cooler.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did. I'm a representative from the Ministry of Magic. It has come to our attention that a witch or wizard has used various spells, primarily the Reductor Curse, on your house. I--"

"That was me," said Bellatrix, somewhat proudly. "I blew up an entire wall!" The last was said with more than a hint of pride.

Hilda raised an eyebrow. "Did you?" Bellatrix nodded once, her eyes not leaving Hilda's.

"How old are you?"

"Eleven. My birthday was in April."

"I see. Are you going to Hogwarts?"

"Well...I haven't gotten my letter yet." Bellatrix frowned. "But I am going, if that's what you're asking."

"It was. Listen...what did you say your name was?" Hilda had dropped to her knees, so as to be closer to Bellatrix's height.

"I didn't," said Bellatrix, "but it's Bellatrix."

"Bellatrix then. Listen, you shouldn't do things like that. You could seriously injure yourself or others, and if you do things like that outside school, you will be expelled. Do you know what that means?" Hilda looked at Bellatrix with all the patronising air of an adult explaining a very simple concept to a very young child; a concept that the adult is stupid enough to think is complicated.

"Expelled: past form of the verb 'expel' the infinitive of which is 'to expel'. Definition: 1.To drive out by force; to force out; to eject. 2.To dismiss or send away by authority; deprive of rights, membership, etc. Yes, I think I understand."

"Bellatrix...." Mrs. Black send a severe warning look to her daughter. Bellatrix took the hint and sighed.

"Yes, Miss Ryan, I understand very well. I will not do any more under-age magic, and you are quite right, I could have hurt someone. It was foolish of me."

I sound like such a sap, thought Bellatrix disgustedly, but I know that I'm a good actress; there's no way that she'll know I don't mean it.

Must discuss the deplorable condition of the wards with husband, thought Mrs. Black at the same time. Can't have the Ministry poking its nose in where it's not wanted, can we?

"That's a good girl," said Hilda after a short pause. She looked distinctly bewildered, both by the fact that she'd had a dictionary quoted at her, and by the fact that it had been swiftly followed by what appeared to be a sincere apology. She turned to Mrs. Black. "I trust that I will not have to visit again, and that no one was harmed?"

"No one was hurt, and no, you will not. Bellatrix shall be punished, and you will not be called out again. Thank you for your time." And with that, Mrs. Black shut the front door.

As soon as the door was shut, Bellatrix started complaining.

"But Mother, you said that you wouldn't punish me if I let you into your room! That's not fair."

"For one thing, you would eventually have had to come out, because you would have been hungry. Secondly, if I were to punish you, it would be for being rude to someone in authority. There are times when it's acceptable, but when you are in the wrong is most definitely not one of them. Finally, I am not going to punish you, if only because I think that that woman was an idiot, along with all the rest of the Ministry. If there really had been an 'assault' on our house or us, she certainly wouldn't have been able to do anything about it!" Mrs. Black snorted contemptuously.

"Bu--what...?" Bellatrix stopped in utter confusion. Then she decided to skip the deeper issues and go straight to the problem that directly affected her. "You just told that woman that you were going to punish me," she said matter-of-factly.

"Just as you told me that you were going to make Narcissa stop crying," said Mrs. Black in an equally matter-of-fact tone.

"Ohhh, I see." Bellatrix grinned, trying to look 'evil'. "Only words, not action."

Mrs. Black matched her daughter's grin. Maybe she and her daughter weren't so very different after all.

"Exactly."