Disclaimer: JK Rowling's characters are definitely not mine! Just borrowing them, and warping the relationships
Additional Comments: As I said, death fic and mild femslash, DO NOT read if it's not your cup of tea! Comments like 'this shit sucks' won't be tolerated, although I would appreciate some constructive criticism.

Note: There is a Depeche Mode song titled little soul. After writing the fic, I decided that was the perfect name for it. So cheers, to Depeche.

Little Soul

She slithered down the grounds of the castle. A truly new sensation. She could move the long and narrow body curving strangely and yet completely naturally as it continued forward. She could taste the air, smell it with her tongue. She saw hot and cold, shapes didn't matter. Her thoughts were ragged, torn, incomplete. Instincts were what mattered more. She could feel every change in the wind, every shiver from the white-hot lives around her, every roughness under her long belly as she slithered and slithered. Where to?

***

It was two years ago when she first saw her. While stupid Lucious was talking Potter into giving him the prophecy she was eyeing the little fools behind 'the boy who lived'. They were all young. That made them beautiful, as youth frames every person no matter how they look and gives them that typical freshness and beauty that they, unfortunately, can't see. Only when they lose it do they know what they had.

There was nothing interesting about them, though. They were all so 'good', and 'brave', and… so Griffindorish. Ready to give their lives for their friends. And, from what she could see, they were doing just that. She saw hatred and determination in these eyes. But, oh, just how much she would have loved to respond to that hatred, to kill the determination, to torture one of them, the girls! What pleasure would it give her to crush the little spirit, cast Crucio upon Crucio, while biting, tasting the blood, cutting her nails into the milky flesh, digging and digging, thrusting her fingers deeper and deeper, until the girl simply went crazy. Like the Longbottom had. Maybe she would, she would threat herself to a little present after they got the job done. But who was to be the victim?

She looked at them, staring at them, one by one, looking for something, searching. Resentment, hatred mirrored her from every eye. Every except one pair, big and gray. What she saw was a whole other species. And the girl was beautiful. Not just young. She shined with porcelain-white skin, and golden hair, not much darker than her tan. Her robes fitted her slim, sturdy body beautifully. But yet, the eyes were the most amazing part of her whole self. You could get lost in them, two huge, clear, silver pools of water, that were turning softly, turning softly now, to stare at….her!

Bang!, was the collision of two worlds, both crazy and warped, one the complete opposite of the other. They had each other enchanted, looking at the naked soul in front, seeing every line and every crevice, every wish and every thought, nothing was covered, and nothing could be. Seconds felt like centuries, and centuries like seconds.

Then it was all lost, with everybody running, following someone and getting followed, trying to get somebody killed and get killed.

Bella went mad. Raving mad. The raging fire inside her was blinding. She was trembling.

The girl had to die. Now. Bella wouldn't play with her, Bella couldn't. Bella just wanted her dead.

'She'll die she's dead she will soon so soon soon dead killed death' she was chanting to herself, searching the shelves for that angel.

***

The ghostly lit castle cast eerie shadows on the pitch-black grounds, illuminating a barely visible figure as it moved away from the brightness.

The angel was quite not herself tonight, pain and worry replacing the dreaminess she always carried. She grieved for her killed friends, yet she couldn't stop worrying for the person who killed half of them. She thought.. no, she knew she'd see them again, sooner or later, but still she didn't want it to be that way. But if her darker half had suddenly stopped acting like a death eater, it would lead to nothing good. The reason she had 'fought' Bella, 'helping' Ginny and Hermione was to try protecting both her friends and her love. It hadn't worked. Molly had killed her death eater. Or she thought she had.

And the worries again: What if it hadn't worked, what if they had gotten something wrong? It worked for Voldemort, why not for her? She's so fragile, something could hurt her! Don't be silly, she's a soul, nothing can harm a soul. If a Sidonian Addlerstamper caught the snake's body, would she stay trapped inside? Ok, you're just plain stupid now! There aren't any Sidonian Addlerstampers in England, and that's a common fact! Stop! Think. Everything will be alright. She'll be waiting for you. No need to worry. Oh, and you still got the wands right?

***

On her way back for Christmas she was reading the Quibbler. There weren't any of her magical creatures mentioned, but it still bore interest to her. Now that the Ministry hid everything from them, the magazine carried all the news that was ignored on purpose. That precisely was the reason they took her. She never got to see the Snorcacks' horn her father bought her. She was, instead, pushed, grabbed, squeezed, hit, cursed, yelled at, and in the end, thrown in the damp and dark dungeon of Malfoy manner.

She tried, and tried, but all her attempts were useless, impossible to break away without a wand. Finally she turned in, exhaustion overpowering her, and slowly drifted into the darkness. Time sped up or slowed down, moments or months had passed, she couldn't tell in the damned black hole. Then light came with the witch.

She knew her. It was the Lestrange woman. She had tortured Neville's parents, killed Harry's godfather, loved Lord Voldemort. Now she loved Luna. The death eater of course still wasn't quite sure if it was love or hatred that she felt, but Luna knew. She seemed to know what everybody thought, but nobody knew what she felt. She was just a 'loony' mystery to everyone, fun to be around, but nothing more. Except for Bellatrix.

The witch was kneeling in front of her, a pool of light emitted from the long, black wand. They sat motionless, staring at each other, unable to look away, lost. As the air around turned white-hot, the mutual silence was broken. Both of them slowly leaned forward, as one being, with one mind, easily giving their greedy lips what they wanted. The wand fell from the thin fingers as they wound around the fragile waist and a few feeble sparks broke the blackest darkness that followed.

***

A black cobra was circling the three closest to the little hut. The reptile certainly was acting strangely, making vast rounds, then impatiently climbing on the trunk, staring at the direction of the castle, then down again with its maddening orbs. To people it would look as if the snake was expecting someone, only if there were people to look.

On the, perhaps, hundredth time this intimidating routine was performed, the serpent froze on the ground, looking at a girl, as pale as a ghost, approaching. She was walking wearily, slowly, looking at her feet. Then when she was close enough she stopped, took a deep breath, and looked at the direction of the forest. A sigh escaped her lips, as the silver in her eyes fixed on the black shadow, and she broke into a sprint to reach it. When she did, though, she stopped suddenly, and eyed the animal with suspicion. The snake though didn't seem to notice, and cuddled in the angel's legs, and then up in the hands that started stroking the black piece of soul.

The surreal couple entered the forest, going deeper, searching. A thestral was what they needed.

***

'I know his secrets. I know why he couldn't die when Avada backfired,' she whispered on one of their snatched moments in the dungeon, combing the endless white-blond hair with her fingers.

'Oh, yeah, I know that too. It has to do with the Rotfang Conspiracy. You see, he went in hiding, but the aurors decided to mask the whole thing as his death, to overturn the ministry. He never died.'

The witch was left with an utterly perplexed expression on her face. Then she eyed Luna, and broke into a hysteric laughter, that ringed, magnified, from the solid walls around them.

'No, Loony! I can not understand how you can believe all this. Anyway, what I meant was.. Have you ever heard of.….horcruxes?'

With that the next half an hour was lost in explanations.

'Oh, I see,' was Luna's dreamy response.

'Yes.'

'You'll die in this war, no matter who wins. So you'll make a horcrux to prevent this. It's pretty simple. I understand. And the horcrux will be…'

'Oh, you'll see, angel, my smart little angel, you'll see. I've got it all thought out… And you'll be the one to bring me back,' the witch murmured in the girl's ear, smiling, wrapping herself around Luna, lust and daggers dripping where she spoke.

'I'll be…'

'Yess,' she hissed, pulling in tighter, running her teeth over the porcelain-white neck, and back to the shoulder, then biting down hard. 'You.'

***

'Hello, sweetie,' smiled Luna at the thestral.

She slowly walked closer, until their heads were inches apart, and patted gently the fleshless horse on the muzzle. And started the spell.

'Here, a magical beast, cruel it may look, but a gentle and kind soul it is.'

With that she turned to its side and lowered the serpent she'd been holding next to the black ribcage. As it bit, she continued the chant:

'And your poison, in your body, killing you slowly, yet making you stronger'

She dropped the lifeless snake and faced the thestral again. It was watching her steadily, now enclosing the little soul. The girl gashed her finger with her wand, so that astonishing, ruby-red liquid dropped down her colorless skin. She drew carefully a five pointed star upside down on the narrow, bony forehead.

'Marked with blood, both by love and evil beyond measure, uniting those two into your soul.'

Her innocent heart trembled even faster. She clutched her wand tighter. The wand that wasn't really a wand. A horcrux, rather. Now or never.

Now.

'And with a piece of you living in something once mine, I am your lover, I call you, I replace this beast for you – BELLATRIX LESTRANGE!'

A blinding white light exploded, to be replaced with glowing watery spider webs. They spun in midair enclosing both beings, getting tighter and tighter, fitting completely the shape of the bodies, and then sinking in, they went, searching for the soul. One was found complete, entire, untouched, but the other was only a half, ripped. The webs started tangling, connecting the half to the body it had, changing flesh and bone to fit soul and mind. And then…that was it--

Two witches were standing on the moonlit ground, staring at each other again as they so often did, unable to part eyes. The stillness was broken this time by the blond, rummaging through her robes for something. She pulled two wands to the third she already held, and trusted the longer and the one she had used in the outstretched hand of the naked woman, left with the new one from Ollivander. With the flick of the black wand, though, Bella was no longer naked.

The dark witch stepped closer to the pale angel and touched her lips to the others, weaving her hands around the trembling girl in an embrace that was too crammed with despair. They fell to the ground still in that intimidating clutch. Then Bellatrix whispered in the kiss 'sorry' and backed away from the innocent soul that went limp with grief and understanding.

Luna held out a hand to touch the face she loved and Bella pulled out a dagger. The witch closed her fingers over the hand that rested lightly on her cheek and slit the white wrist. Deep gashes emerged with each slash, blood oozing silently from the wounds. Bella dropped the dagger and caught the hand that was slipping away, touched her lips to the wrist and snaked her tongue over the salty red, tasting it, inhaling the smell that could craze her. She looked at the face in front that stared kindly, slowly losing the little color it held.

Bella lowered Luna's hand on the earth and slid to her ear. She needed to say it, although Luna already knew it.

'I just…love you so much that it scares me…So much, you'll be the death of me if it keeps going on…And I love myself too much to let that happen—'

She kissed her, then, hugging her again, clutching tightly, looking at the depths of the girl's eyes, waiting. And surely enough, soon the life out of them vanished, leaving the brilliant silver eyes plain gray, robbed from the universe they used to carry inside.

Luna Lovegood was no more.

Bellatrix Lestrange stood up, closed her eyelids, tasted the blood that was fresh on her lips, and cracked a smile.