Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.
A/N: This is the last instalment and here's the overly long A/N to go with the overly long chapter. Sorry for the super-late update (I was actually gonna delay some more but decided that then I'd never get it up with school starting and all). Sirius' middle name in this chapter is stolen from abigail-nicole's Gryffindor Oracle…I just love the initials :P
Anyway, thanks to those who put up with me and this fic and all you guys for reading and reviewing, especially CrazyTomboy, Twitch, and Steph among others.
I know I said there would be an epilogue but it just wasn't working. I still can't believe I made myself post this and I know it's all slightly whacked and A/U now cuz of a certain death and other things but still…I had to finish this fic. Sigh…I've become pretty attached to the sisters.
Read and review!
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The Dark Soul
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Funny how little we can see beneath the surface. Unbreakable, unbreakable, unbreakable…and she broke.
It's always that girl who dresses in black and has attitude that can kill and hates the sound of laughter and lives a life consisting of mockery—mainly her own—and so caught up in that charade that she often forgets who she is. It makes a lot of sense if you think about it but not to her, never to her, none at all, none whatsoever, because she can't see herself outside the little sphere of darkness that she's created.
They never knew what broke her but a few suggested that it may have been her best friend and the fact that he had left. Scratch that—her ex-best friend (it was quite remarkable really how those two mere letters could be attached to anything to signify detachment). Anyhow, he had left her to rot in the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black—bullshit! It was the house of darkness with screaming portraits and heads of former house elves decorating the walls! How very bloody noble! And even though she'd always argue with him against those objections, saying that family was family, inwardly, she was scared to death of her own home.
Her best friend had been her cousin—for all of those who couldn't have guessed. Sirius Orion Black, her traitorous, audacious cousin. Everyone had guessed that he was responsible for leaving the greatest void in her life but only she knew of the haunting memories that served to rekindle it more often than she could bear.
"You ever think of leaving this place, Bella?"
"No. I wouldn't dare."
"Ha! And you think you're so big and bad! 'ickle Bella wouldn't dare defy mummy's wishes."
"It's not about mummy. It's about family!"
"Yeah right. It's because you agree with everything they have to say, all their let-the-purity-survive bullshit!"
"And what if I do?" she had asked defiantly.
"God!" he had sighed, frustrated. "Why do I keep forgetting you're a Slytherin?"
"Oh you really think you're something because you got into Gryffindor, huh? You've disgraced them all, you know? It's disgusting. They were all so furious and you're so bloody proud of it!"
"And what if I bloody am? I don't need to be scolded by a thirteen-year-old Slytherin. Go whine to Snivellus or something. Seeing as he fancies ya, he might even listen," he winked.
"He doesnot, you son-of-a—" and she had stopped abruptly, looking daggers at him…not because she wasn't rude and foul-mouthed but because…because…just because
"Go on, Bella, say it," he'd smirked. "I may be the first and last person you'll meet who'll take no offence and maybe even agree with you."
"You're a filthy blood traitor and there's nothing worse than that!" and she had gotten up to leave but he had been quick to grab her wrist and pull her down.
She had practically fallen on him, mumbling curses and resisting his long limbs but it had all been drowned out by him laughing all the while.
Face to face, they had almost been a reflection of one another. Only the constant laughter in his face was never present in hers.
"Ooh, that's insulting! C'mon, you can do better than that!"
"You should be ashamed of yourself! She's your mother."
"Then why are you so offended? Touchy, aren't you?" He'd pushed a loose strand of dark hair behind her ears and she had hid a wince because his airiness was a little more than one could handle sometimes.
"Quite a prat, aren't you?" she had shot back.
"Quite," he had said with a knowing smile. "It's in the blood."
He was so maddening but he was still Sirius Black and always would be. After he left, she found it easy to hate him with a furious passion but the bigger problem was that she was torn inside because she had lost her best and only friend.
Fortunately for her though, Rodolophus Lestrange had come along not too much later…the boy—no, the man—who could make your heart soar by the sound of his voice and then take it way with his wink.
He was downright handsome when she had first laid eyes on him. A year ahead of her and drop-dead gorgeous. Back then, when they had all been young, everything about him had captivated her: the sleek hair, the dark penetrating eyes, the ruthless—unmistakably Slytherin—air, and even that scar that seemed to trickle down from the corner of his mouth when he grinned. He never smiled, only grinned. It was something she had noticed a great deal but it never bothered her because like everything else about him, the grins—especially the one he reserved for her—were also drop-dead gorgeous.
Bellatrix had been the kind to hold a grudge against the world. She was a high-maintenance woman and unreservedly proud of it until Lestrange came along and sliced that pride in half.
Oh love! How it felt like to be loved, especially when you knew nothing but dark corners and icy glares your entire life. Anything vaguely resembling love that she may have received from anyone else had been cold, distant, and extremely formal. The only other close bond she had made had failed her because the other half of that bond had turned out to be an audacious little blood traitor who she had stopped thinking about now. Oftentimes, she had felt like betraying this family herself but did not because of the knowledge that she would then be alone. Of course, like much else, that also changed when Lestrange came along because with a new love came a new promise and with that, came a new name and when she was set to be Mrs. Lestrange, she never thought twice about it.
It was no well-kept secret that Bellatrix Black was delighted to become Bellatrix Lestrange but the fact that she was glad to have dropped her maiden name was not widely known for she had always acted as one of the primary advocates for everything the family name stood for. Sirius Black had once barked a laugh and said I hate everything you proudly stand for and I proudly stand for everything you hate but that had been a long time ago because now, it would not do to dwell upon him. It had never done her well to dwell upon Sirius Black. Rodolophus Lestrange was now the man under her spotlight and even if Sirius hadn't been the worst thing that had happened to her, Rodolophus had undeniably been the best.
The man may have been an unfeeling jerk, a sneak, a sleaze and just about every other horrible name you could call him but his one positive attribute was that he was forever faithful to his one wife.
They said that loving someone too much could make you hate them.
Although she loved Rodolophus like no one else, the lost feelings and the falling out with her ex-best friend came up and ate at her at the worst times. Killing Sirius had been an act of passion although she was capable of doing it under the Dark Lord's orders nonetheless. What had got to her was that he had mocked her…and mockery was the one thing she could not stand from him because ever since he had left that family, it was all he ever gave her. Every. Single. Time. It had been sheer mockery, with a defiant sort of pride, always indirectly saying how he was lucky to get out of it and leave it all behind…even if it had meant leaving her behind. So she liked to tell herself that Sirius Black had dug his own grave with that bleeding cockiness of his and it wasn't her fault that her tolerance for had run out.
Before and after that though, had come Azkaban, and once again she was reminded that she had been destined for the dark.
When Rodolophus had been alive, she had lived for him. Even the Ministry of Magic had been kind enough to allow them a shared cell but not without severe anti-escaping spells on every inch so even their combined magic could do no harm. There really was no need though as they had neither strength nor much desire to escape after the Dark Lord's ultimate fall.
Throughout their respective trials, they had been a sorry sight, pitifully repentant and afraid to let go of one another. Most of His supporters were being put to death because of the nature of their heinous crimes and the Lestranges were sure to be on the list. Dumbledore, seeing good in all—especially his former students, had defended them, and that she would never understand because she had caused the old man enough grief. The only thing left to comfort her now had been her husband's presence and quite honestly, it was all she had wanted and needed.
Rodolophus hadn't lasted too long because the war had worn him out. When he had died, she was alone and sat miserably counting her own days…thinking of Sirius sometimes. Maybe I wouldn't be here if you hadn't left me. But blame was an idle thing and it worse to cast it upon a dead man because now, nothing could be done.
Either way, nothing could've been done and nothing could've been changed and she had thought it unfortunate that suicide spells were ineffective in the prison. She had supposed it was because there wouldn't have been a single living soul if one had the chance to escape the constant feeling of hopelessness.
Even with the dementors gone, everything about the prison walls had continued to reek with misery.
Time passed and her days were numbered because she was soon a victim of the same ailment that had killed Rodolophus and she demurred to treatment. Fancy that—Bellatrix Black Lestrange, the victim for a change.
But for some reason it felt like a blessing.
The Potter boy, it was said, had wanted to kill her with his own two hands to avenge his Godfather's death. Good old Dumbledore had intervened though and just wouldn't have allowed it.
It was a pity really, because in the last few desolate years of her life, she rather wished he had.
The only thing left to comfort her now was that it would soon be over and it wouldn't be too long before she could embrace the darkness as her own. She wanted to sleep and dream and not wake up. Ever. She wanted to stop seeing red and was anxious to see black. She had never prayed a word in her life but she prayed now and prayed hard.
God was merciful and benevolent and ever-loving, they used to say. They used to say names of prophets and the Lord and Jesus and Mary before she killed them. It was ironic: they used to pray to save their lives whereas she now prayed to end hers. And her last prayer was answered in due time.
Bellatrix Black Lestrange died in the cells of Azkaban, believing in God and thinking of how she always knew well that the Dark Lord wouldn't have lasted forever even as she had fought for him. More than anything though, she thought of Rodolophus, the man—she could safely say—she loved more than life itself, and managed a weak smile.
I'll be seeing you soon, my love.
And then there was a fleeting glimpse of a thirteen year-old boy laughing. It was how she had always remembered him—even as he had died—and why she had always envied him. She was glad to know that this time, Sirius Black wasn't laughing at her.
She closed her eyes and took her last ragged breath.
And I guess I'll be seeing you too.
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-fin-
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A/N: a lot of heart went into this and I swear HBP really was going to send this to shreds but then I thought, what the hell! I had already written this chapter before the book was out and had liked it a lot then…but ugh yeah. Sorry, I know it doesn't comply with post-HBP stuff but I've really stopped worrying about that while reading fanfiction. Thanks again to all the readers (I know I'm making it sound like an epic lol but it's my first 'finished' fic so yep)
I've come to love writing these vita-like things that capture a character's life although I know that this fic was far from perfect and this chapter sounded especially like a detached biography but maybe in the future it's possible for one on James, Sirius, and Remus (I've been working with that for a while). I can generally make it work for trios but I can't see myself doing one for Harry, Ron, and Hermoine…maybe someday…but I find them horribly difficult to write, worse than Andromeda and worse than James will probably be.
Wow, long rant there. Anyway, hoped you liked Pieces of Black and I'd love it if you dropped a review!