Bad Romance

Chapter 20

Chapter 20: The Sound of Silence

When Grindelwald and the others left, Bellatrix realized that she was now stuck with her feelings...which were currently fearful. With no more wards to put up or future plans to make about work and such, she had nothing else to think about other than the fact that she had, in essence, stabbed the Dark Lord today.

Letting out a breath, she turned to Rodolphus, who was giving Harold his instructions for the evening meal.

"I screwed up...you know, with the stabbing him bit, didn't I," she asked apologetically.

Rodolphus shook his head, slipping an arm around Bellatrix's waist and drawing her close. "I don't see how. You had an instinct to act and went with it. It was what the Ministry wanted, else they wouldn't have had us waiting there at Azkaban for the girl to show. Of course they were hoping we'd kill her, but the extenuating circumstances seem to be understood even by Grindelwald, so we're good."

Bellatrix leaned into his touch, snuggling her head against his shoulder and drawing comfort from his solid, familiar presence. "But it was him in there, speaking through her mouth. He won't take that slight lightly, and you know it."

Rodolphus gave a small nod. "Likely not, but what else were we supposed to do? At this point, I doubt any move we made when it came to him could've been right. Besides...he has bigger fish to fry at present. He has Grindelwald and even Dumbledore to worry about so he won't have time to fret over us."

Bellatrix wasn't so sure. "We tried to kill him twice, though. He brought up that point today, so it isn't as if he's forgotten or anything," she said drily. "He knows we tried to kill him, and now we remember that he knows. He could've made us forget again, but enough people are aware now, and it wouldn't have lasted." She reached toward the spot on her arm where the dormant Dark Mark lurked, then dropped her hand before it could make contact. "I'd like to speak to Grindelwald in the morning about getting our Dark Marks off. If anyone can make that happen it's his Machiavellian ass."

"Good idea," Rodolphus said approvingly.

"So do we get to relax with a pre-dinner drink or is that no longer an option due to us needing to always be alert in case he... or...she comes after us? While we're on the subject, how are we going to think of him...her now? Are they trans or something?" Rabastan wondered, sounding too light hearted for Bellatrix's liking.

"Stop taking this seriously and you could end up dead, Rabastan," Bellatrix warned peevishly.

"Once again, she's right," Rodolphus told his younger brother.

"Fine, fine, no fun until the bitch is dead. It is as I thought, but you can't blame a bloke for just fucking checking to be certain."

Until she was dead...until he was dead...one in the same... Like that old prophecy said, both had to die? Though Bellatrix couldn't decide which sounded right to her. Both could, and very much should, die. "He really doesn't want to die," she complained, as the three wandered into the parlor with Rhadamanthus following like a good guard. "Do you think he believes in hell or something? If so, he could be rightfully afraid to go there."

"There ought to be a hell made for him specifically," Rabastan said, flopping down into an armchair near the fire.

"There are worse wizards, you know," Rodolphus remarked as he settled onto the love seat with Bellatrix. "Only a few, though. Herpo and Ekrizdis right off the top of my head."

"Well, Voldemort would've invented Horcruxes and Dementors if he could've, so he's just as bad," Rabastan said and Bellatrix nodded in agreement.

"It isn't even really about being bad, if you ask me," she grumbled. "We're bad. We don't mind killing Muggles or giving gits a good torture to teach them a thing or two, but Herpo, or the Dark Lord, or anyone else similar...they're just twisted. Like something went wrong in their brains from birth and they have no loyalty for anyone at all, perhaps not even themselves."