The Last Gryffindor (Sirius Black)

XXXV: The Brave

A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.
—MAHATMA GHANDI

• — • — •

Severus watched from afar in mute horror as Bellatrix fired a curse at Aeliana's back in her moment of weakness.

Compassion. Sympathy. Her weaknesses were thus. He'd known it from the day they first met. It was a common fault amongst her kind.

Aeliana fell, face first, to her knees at Narcissa's feet, only catching herself in time to prevent a head on collision with the ground. Her limbs trembled from exhaustion, the exertion of merely holding herself up taxed her remaining energy.

"Expelliarmus!" Bellatrix screeched triumphantly.

A curtain of long hair obscured Aeliana's expression as her wand flew out of her hand and into Bellatrix's outstretched one.

Her hair had always been a liability, shining even when they were supposed to disappear into the shadows. It was too long in a fight, too bright in the dark, and far too identifiable in the streets, though Severus grudgingly had to admit that he couldn't say much when it came to the length of her hair, unless he risked being a hypocrite.

"You filthy blood traitor!" Bellatrix hissed. "You must be punished for your crimes against the Dark Lord! Crucio! Crucio!"

To Aeliana's credit, she didn't scream. She writhed in agony, the way a snake still moves after it loses its head, but her lips stayed clasped firmly shut. She didn't give Bellatrix the satisfaction of hearing her scream. Just as Aeliana moved to try and cradle her head between her hands in hopes of bringing some unknown comfort, Bellatrix leapt forward and aimed a kick at her exposed abdomen, forcing her to collapse, gasping, on her side.

Before Aeliana could force herself up again, blood trickling down vengefully from between her lips, Bellatrix placed her heeled, coal coloured boot over her neck and pressed down threateningly.

"I'll see you begging for my mercy!" Bellatrix exclaimed, almost giddily, as she dug  her heel experimentally into Aeliana's exposed flesh.

"Why bother?" Lia retorted hoarsely. "Can't you tell? This is exactly how I planned to spend my Tuesday evening."

"Silence!" Bellatrix spat, pressing down harder. "I didn't give you permission to speak, blood traitor."

"You just... asked me to... beg for your mercy..." Lia pointed out, fighting desperately for each breath, just to waste it baiting Bellatrix. "I'm really... getting mixed signals here."

In a voice that could almost be mistaken for tender, Bellatrix leaned down and whispered, "You pathetic, little girl, thinking you could hope to challenge the Dark Lord! How I will cherish killing you."

"Looking... forward to it,"Aeliana ground out.

"That's enough, Bella," Voldemort ordered, coming up beside her. "She's mine."

Bellatrix immediately leapt away, with the air of a naughty child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. From behind her, Lia choked down gasps of air the way a dying man in the desert choked down water. Even from where Severus was standing, he could see her skin glowing an angry red where Bellatrix had been using her neck as a door mat.