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To Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, only two things matter: power, and mercy. He falls to hers, and she to another, to the only one that truly matters - to the Dark Lord.
And when you’re up against Lord Voldemort, how can you expect to win?
When there's no future, how can there be sin?
Quote:
Her future is written, written in blood.
You can hear them, even from where you stand detached from the main scene. The frightened cries and tortured screams from men, women and children ring out like bells from a church; the cackling of your fellows carries on the wind. The soft crackle of burning homes is the backdrop of the night.
You can hear them, even now. The sounds of death and destruction and pain.
A child sobs nearby and a voice you recognize growls, “Come here, poppet. Daddy can’t save you now, can he?”
Beside you, she is listening, listening intently. And she smiles. This is what she lives for. This is what she loves.
And this is why you love her.
Thunder cracks and lightening streaks across the dark tortuous sky, momentarily backlighting the grand house high up on the hill. Grand, so grand; someone important lives there. For now. Rain falls in sheets as she watches from her place between the trees on the outskirts of the small forest, and she smiles again as another streak of lightning flashes across the desolate gray above. You, too, stand between the trees, in silence beside her. Her eyes are wide and greedy as she tilts her face to the sky, her hood falling back around her shoulders.
You can do nothing but stare at this woman, your wife. She is sadistic and beautiful and oh so seductive. She revels in death, destruction, pain. And you, this is what arouses you about her. She does not realize what she does to you; she does not care. As time trips toward death by her hand, nothing else matters.
Her future is written, written in blood.
God save the Queen.