CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Black Cherries and...

"PROTEGO!" The blue shield shimmers into place, less than an inch from her nose. A heartbeat later the Obliviate hits. The shield buckles but recovers, the spell ricochets off towards the ceiling.

"Aurors!" the "owner" snarls. He doesn't get a chance to say anything else as he and Lockhart are hit by several Stunners. The air glows red from the spellfire.

"Miss Bella! Are you okay?" Sigi's earnest voice is a relief to hear. The spelled ropes fall apart from around her, but she remains sitting, something doesn't quite add up.

She narrows her eyes at the blond, "As grateful as I might be for the rescue, how did you know something was wrong."

Sigi's face flushes and he avoids her gaze.

"Pardon, Miss Bella. We have had our eyes on Mr Lockhart and his various associates for a while. Your assistance in the Forest provided us an opportunity too good to ignore."

"You used me as bait." Her voice is flat, toneless. "A tracking charm on my wand I assume? Which you'll kindly remove." It's not a request, and she's falling back into old habits, politeness as insult, formality as defence.

"Hirsch. Let the Mediwizard look her over." It's the Auror she downed - Herman, she thinks his name was.

She scoffs, "I'll be fine in a bit."

"Apple juice to inhibit the Sapping potion." Richter nods at her, "she is correct."

She glares at the dark haired young Auror and is rewarded by a somewhat sheepish grin.

"So if I get my statement taken again, I'm not going to be led into any other kind of trap, am I?"

"Not unless you have something to hide, Miss Black." Hermann again. She narrows her eyes at him in lieu of a verbal response.

Something was wrong. Harry stood up from the Ravenclaw table and swayed. Something was wrong. His vision blurred and for a single moment he thought he saw her. For just a moment - dark tangled hair - she was all out of focus - darkness where her eyes should be.

"Harry?" Goldstein's voice seemed a mile away. What was happening?

His heart seemed to beating too fast. Was it her, was she here?

"S'tha'?" He slurred. His mouth felt dry. He groped at the table for his goblet only succeeding in knocking it off.

"Potter! What do you think you're doing?" Who? Everything was blurring, he swayed again, why couldn't the floor stay still.

He said the last out loud.

Something grabbed his arm roughly, a big black blur, he giggled. His glasses were snatched off his face to his dismay then something approached his face. He tried to protest, but no sound would come. He flapped his hands aimlessly.

"Dilated pupils, loss of balance, inability to speak or slurred speech. Take this you foolish boy." The something was trying to put something in his mouth. He kept his mouth shut. He didn't trust the something. The something was wrong. A thief, he recalled, he was feeling rather detached from himself, he laughed soundlessly as his body shook. With his mouth shut, who knew what the thief might do. Or was it the thief? The thieves, the memory thieves who stole from him but now that he was looking he could see a new blur.

"Sir let us try!" Insistent voice high pitched with strain.

Sounds, a scuffle? His body trembled.

"Take it 'Mione!"

"Harry, open your mouth. You've been poisoned and we have a bezoar for you. Madam Pomfrey's already gone to get the antidote just in case. But you have to let us in. Your magic won't let the Professors close anymore. Please Harry. Neville hexed Professor Snape and YOU'RE GOING TO DIE! HARRY!"

He opened his mouth and let the voice do as it pleased while he drifted away.

She hadn't thought the day could get much worse, but having a florid-faced official thanking her profusely for her aid in capturing an international criminal is not her idea of a good time. Once he mentions interviews and journalists, she uses her adapted version of Cissa's dumb blonde act.

"Oh no!" She exclaims, "I couldn't possibly! Why when it was only through the diligent hard work of your Aurors which saved me! Especially Aurors Si- I mean Hirsch and Richter." She finishes with a painfully girlish giggle. She continues gamely, "They were truly amazing, I mean, to somehow know that I was in trouble and with such impeccable timing!"

The official is getting the idea - if she's interviewed she'll mention the bait idea and that she hadn't been in the loop. In short, it will look very, very bad for the Aurors.

"Ah, if that is what you wish of course. Though we will naturally give you some token of our appreciation."

She smiles at him, and catches Richter's eye. The Auror has been hovering around, not close enough to overhear, but it's clear he wishes to speak with her.

He nods once and strides over.

"Herr Kaufmann."

"Auror Richter." The official, Kaufmann, looks between them, before nodding. "I leave Miss Black in your capable hands - I trust there will be no more adventures?"

"Of course." The young man smiles amiably at the official until he leaves, before turning to her apology writ large on his face. "Myself and Hirsch, we truly are really sorry." It is, she can admit to herself, quite nice and rather flattering to have two young men - neither particularly hard on the eyes, trying to get back into her good graces.

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement." She gives him a lazy smile, something her sisters had attempted to claim was some sultry eyed come hither look - but that on the tail of a prank war which had left Cissa's hair pink for days... she hadn't believed them. Richter's widened eyes and the slight pinking of his cheeks has her reassessing. She manages to keep her poise though, "perhaps you could assist me with learning those spells your team used to counteract the Fiendfyre?"

"Yes. I could, we could. That is, Sigi and I. I mean." He stops, clearly flustered, before barking out a laugh, and bowing. "Miss Bella, you are very good at keeping people off-balance. Still, if that is what you wish - then, we would be grateful to offer assistance."

It's the following day by the time she finally gets round to reading Alphard's letter.

Dear Isabella,

I hope that this letter finds you in good health and spirits. I trust you are enjoying your trip - by this time I expect you will have explored a great deal of the Black Forest. How could one of us resist with a name like that? As a further suggestion on where you may wish to travel next - I have heard that Vienna is particularly lovely at this time of year with the Ball season soon upon us. No doubt your cousins would be most delighted to hear that you attended a social event.

Speaking of your cousins - it has of late come to light that Sirius, the much lamented scion of our family is solely held or rather detained at the Chief Warlock's pleasure, and that not only has no trial ever been enacted on his behalf, but that he has undergone no prison review to bring to light his singular status.

As one can imagine, this is most distressing and I am now pushing for a trial to be held, though I am met by many obstacles. Still, if we can get to a trial - at best, new evidence may come to light that his betrayal of the Potters was a result of succumbing to torture and dark magic, at worst he will be revealed as a traitor and will return to Azkaban, and allowing us legal recourse to make claim to the Black inheritance. I know that you share no particular fondness for your cousin, but I once saw a great deal of myself in him and the stories abound from those dark times do not ring true.

I hope to obtain the aid of your cousin Narcissa and possibly her husband in this endeavour, as you are more familiar with their mindset, please respond with any advice you can offer in this area.

With affection,
Alphard Black

Harry next woke to find himself in the hospital wing. He was thirsty and he couldn't see. He groped at the side-table for his glasses and put them on. His hand shook and when he placed them, carefully, on his face his vision was blurry. He took his glasses off, cleaned them on the duvet and put them back on. Still blurry. He frowned. He sighed. He looked around. The curtains around his bed were drawn, yet he could see it was daytime. He grabbed at the curtain and took a peek, the light hurt his eyes. He dropped it in a flash. He gazed at the ceiling and wondered why it seemed to be coming closer.

"Mr Potter! How are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey inquired, as she briskly took out her wand and took out her wand, since when did she have two wands? Since when did she have a twin, more importantly.

"Thirsty." He articulated, with some difficulty, his throat being very dry.

Both Pomfreys' lips pursed together. One of them waved a wand and the other poured a glass of water.

The wand-waver took a vial from out of thin air, and opened it, and upended it into his glass of water. The stuff was green and snot-like. It floated there. The other Pomfrey tried to hand him the glass.

"No!" He cried.

The hospital matron sighed, and spoke, "I suppose there are still some lingering effects. Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom are going to visit you shortly, perhaps you'll take water from them, hmm?"

All said and done, it takes just over a week for Sigi and Richter to teach her the counters to Fiendfyre the problem being curling her tongue around the unfamiliar sounds of the German. In between, she introduces the boys to a few not yet illegal curses and gets introduced herself to a few technically difficult, but truly awe-inspiring paired Transfigurations. It's a masterpiece of teamwork, impressive not only for the results, but its synergy as well. Two parts combined for a greater whole. Even Albus bloody Dumbledore would have call to be impressed as few people have the magical power to match him, yet these two have taken a technique that should be beyond them and found a way to do it anyway.

She's fairly certain the boys have shown her their paired casting as a way of showing off. It's hardly all that useful to a single duellist. If she'd had Cissa accompanying her or even Andy - then she was fair certain that they would be able to match each other well enough to pull it off. Her sisters being the only people she'd managed to dual cast with - courtesy of having sisters she supposes. Fabian and Gideon Prewett had been an utter menace during the war, far more so than her own Rodolphus and Rabastan - paired casting giving enough of a power boost without it being a pair of Merlin forsworn identical twins. And she'd heard there was a pair in the next generation as well.

So even though it's the boys showing off - she still wants to learn it - after all she's one of the three Black sisters - a name that was known before any of them split apart- 7 might be a magically powerful number, but 3 is strength, whilst 4 always falls - the Founders had really tempted fate there.

She learns quickly, age somehow lending her the patience and control to match her magic to both Sigi's and Richter's. Contrary to how she may have expected (and she was thinking something bubbly), Sigi's magic feels calm and placid, touching like golden honey, and feeling like melted butter - warm and comfortable and a little bit of a guilty pleasure. Richter's magic, by contrast, is fresh - like peppermint in winter, she can only wonder how her magic feels to them - everyone feels it differently after all, where she compares it to food, Cissa (raspberries and crushed ice) would compare music and Andy (cinnamon and apples) to landscapes.

It's when she gives a tired laugh after an hours long training session and claps Sigi on the shoulder saying "I feel all like butter now" that he grins at her and Richter asks "He feels like butter to you?"

At her nod, he adds "I feel him as sunshine." That perks her interest and he answers her question without her asking. "You, Miss Bella, are the gathering of clouds before the storm breaks."

"For me - a..." here Sigi blushes, but is interrupted before he gets to finish.

"Hirsch! Richter!"

"Harry!" Hermione exclaims as she enters the Hospital Wing, Neville in tow.

It's Neville who gets to the niceties. "How are you feeling Harry?" the other boy wears a concerned expression, even as he darts glances at the wizard and witch in the corner (which to be fair, Harry had considered to be further hallucinations).

"Much better, thank you." He pauses, "I mean it, really, you both saved my life."

He gets swallowed by a hug from Hermione at that - complete with a warning cough from the pair in the corner.

"I'm so glad you're okay! I can't believe something like this could happen at a place like Hogwarts... I mean, I know you're the Boy-Who-Lived, but Hogwarts is supposed to be safe! I guess it explains having all the Aurors around. It sounds like the poison was added after the food was served - so it was certainly targeted for you."

"We've already had to give interviews to the Aurors," Neville adds, "My gran sent Dumbledore a Howler as well, it's a bit of a fright - if someone can get so far as to poison a Hogwarts student, what guarantee is there that any of us are safe? Though, of course, you're now under an armed guard..."

"Is that what they are?" Harry queries, "for a while I thought they were more hallucinations."

He receives a glare from the pair in the corner at that.

Hermione looks appalled, "You mean to say, that they haven't even had the courtesy to introduce themselves?" She's clearly taking pains to ensure her voice carries to them, and they do react - one standing and making his way to approach them.

"Excuse us, Miss. We are simply here to guard Mr Potter against further attacks, since it's only recently that he's ceased to suffer hallucinations, it was not yet deemed appropriate to introduce ourselves. I am Auror Quentin Blake, the sketchy one still in the corner is my partner, Auror Freda Sisley."

"I object to that, Blake. You're a far sketchier fellow than myself." Sisley has a surprisingly husky voice.

"Nonetheless, Mr Potter, please let us know if you feel up to having your statement taken." Blake adds, nodding to the trio.

She's only able to catch Sigi and Richter for a couple minutes to say goodbye. In the wake of the sting operation, aside from the few days of downtime allowed in which they'd exchanged spells, they were now extremely busy after interrogating the restaurant owner who apparently had a string of similar operations - obliviations and robbery, and worse.

After their goodbyes, and she's surprised at how touched she feels by their heartfelt good wishes and hers in kind, she settles on taking a train towards Austria, and it's capital, Vienna.

The journey is unremarkable, which is a pleasant happenstance after the unexpected chaos of the Black Forest. Vampires, an Obliviation con ring... what more could she expect? She spends several hours in meditation, or trying at least. And she dreams...

..dreams of green, not the cool light of the Avada, but a rich luscious green in many shades, sunlight dappling through the overgrowth and she's on the hunt... this fits... she's always been good at hunting, stalking down her prey, laying in wait, laying in ambush, ready to strike, ready to pounce and pull apart her prey. Even toy with it a little, if she has the opportunity...

"Okay then, Mr Potter, we're about to start the interview. We'll ask you to tell us your name and age for the record, when we begin... there's no reason to feel pressured, there are no right or wrong answers, we just want you to tell us, in your own words, the events of that evening." Blake offers Harry a soft smile, before giving a the crystal orb on the table between them a light tap with his wand.

"Stating for the record, on the 6th day of the eleventh month, in the year 1991 AD, interview with poisoning target. Aurors present are Quentin Blake and Freda Sisley. If you could now give us your name and age, please."

"Harry James Potter, age eleven."

"Okay, Harry. Please describe the events of that evening."

"I remember sitting down to eat as normal, and then I felt like something was wrong... I remember standing, and I guess I was already hallucinating, because I thought there was a woman in the Hall, beautiful with dark hair, but her eyes were missing - there was nothing but darkness there. Everything seemed to blur, as if in a dream, I think Antony - er Goldstein that is, tried to speak to me, and so did... Professor Snape? I don't like him, I... " Harry's frowning now as if in concentration, "I didn't trust him, and everything seemed so unreal," a bitter laugh, "I thought he was trying to poison me. Then I remember Hermione - and Neville, they saved me - they got the bezoar and got me to take it. Next thing I remember is waking up in the Hospital Wing, wondering when Madame Pomfrey got a twin."

"Thank you, Mr Potter. This concludes the interview." Blake taps his wand once more against the recording orb. "We'll be in touch if we need anything further."

"Wait. Don't you know anything about who tried to kill me? This is the second time! Third if you count the Dark Lord when I was a baby,"

"I'm sorry Mr Potter, but we are not at liberty to discuss an on-going investigation, even if you are involved."

It's only after she's arrived at Vienna, and checked into her hotel, that Bella sees the news.

"BOY-WHO-LIVED POISONED AT HOGWARTS" reads the newspaper headlines. She all but shoves her money at the newspaper vendor before grabbing a copy and scanning the article. Perpetrators unknown. Boy-Who-Lived lives once more, belladonna poisoning, possible revenge attack by dark wizards, are our children safe at Hogwarts?

This is, of course, not welcome news. In fact, it's several days old by the available accounts - someone trying to put a hold on the details getting out? Still, at least it seems to say that Harry is now well and recovering, even if it's not yet known who tried to poison her boy. She could name several suspects, but truthfully, it's doubtful that anyone would risk the exposure. Most people have moved on from the War. It's only fools like herself, living in the past... but she knows, she Knows that the Dark Lord is still out there. He isn't dead or gone like most of them believe. So she's here, hunting down rumours and while Schwarzwald may have been a complete red herring, Alphard clearly believes something is up in Vienna. It's also a good opportunity to re-kindle a few old alliances and test the waters in regards to how others see the House of Black.

"So I've started compiling a list." Hermione says, apropos of nothing. They're sat in another abandoned classroom. There really aren't many available spaces for inter-House friendships to take root, so they'll make do until they find something better. They've made grand plans of wards and passwords and comfy furnishings. It's actually the latter which resonates the most with each of them. Comfort and privacy, their two end goals for a shared space.

"A list?" Neville queries. Harry just glances over from the catch-up reading he's been assigned after his stint in the Hospital Wing.

"It's a list of everyone who may have reason, real or imagined, to hurt Harry." She says primly. The roll of parchment she takes from her bag, looks un-reassuringly long.

"Ah." Neville's eyeing the list.

"Any unexpected names?" Harry asks her.

She glares at him for that, "That would only be helpful if I knew who you considered 'expected'."

"Former Death Eaters, sympathisers, their children or other relatives. People who feel that I didn't take care of the Dark Lord soon enough..."

Both of his friends had been nodding along as he listed the possibilities, but they'd both looked appalled at his last addition.

"That's..." Neville pauses, seemingly speechless, "You know I don't blame you. I only blame the ones responsible."

"Neville?" Hermione queries, half-reaching for him in concern.

"A lot of the transcripts of the trials are not readily available, since there are a number of people who were accused of being Death Eaters, but claimed to be under the Imperius," here Neville pauses, meeting Hermione and Harry's gazes in turn, as if to ascertain their understanding. "My parents were Aurors, who were attacked after You-Know-Who fell." He shrugs, "I'm not sure why they were targetted in particular, but..." he pauses again, this time for composure, "they were badly hurt and now they're in St Mungos long-term ward for spell damage."

"Oh Neville," Hermione wraps her arms around the boy, "I'm so sorry."

Harry remains silent, his mind whirling - Bella had done this - had taken away Neville's parents and now... Harry was friends with both of them. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure whether Bella would side with the Dark Lord or himself if it came down to it. She'd expressed regret that his parents had died - but that was in the abstract sense of it being a waste of Wizarding lives - that they'd been on the 'wrong' side of a civil war. Did she regret what had been done to the Longbottoms? Could he really call himself Neville's friend if he was friends with his parents' torturer? He'd already offered his hand in friendship, in alliance to House Longbottom. Maybe he could find a way to offer restitution to family, to Neville.

"I-," he stops, unsure of how to continue, "I really regret that your parents suffered so. If there is anything I can do..." he trails off, his voice twisting in anguish, "Are there no treatment options? No... progress to be had?"

Nevillle, still trapped in Hermione's arms, seems at a loss for words*. His mouth opens, and closes. Finally he swallows, and says hoarsely, "Harry, it- they- there hasn't been any treatment option. The consensus is that... we-uh, we're waiting for them to die, hopefully peacefully. They've made some small progress, but it's doubtful that they'll make enough of a recovery that they'll ever be let out." He tugs himself free of Hermione, instead wrapping his own arms around Harry. "This is not on you. None of it." He re-iterates his point. "That you care, that- it means a lot to me, but you should feel no responsibility for it."

An awkward silence settles between the three children. Hermione breaks the silence with "moving back to the List of potential murderers..." she makes a face at that, "I never thought that Harry's Evil List of People, or H.E.L.P for short would make for a lighter conversation topic."

"H.E.L.P. You gave the list the acronym 'Help'?" Neville asks her bemusedly.

"That's actually really great, no one will ever guess what we're talking about if we refer to the Help." Harry adds.

"It's H.E.L.P." Hermione starts... before sighing, "Fine, I guess we can call it Help."

"So who did you actually list on it?" Harry asks, curious.

Here, Hermione looks somewhat embarassed... "Well... as Neville said, a lot of the transcripts are rather hard to find. I did find a couple of names though. A Bartemius Crouch Junior - apparently it was a big scandal because his father was in charge of Magical Law Enforcement - so it made the Daily Prophet."

"Crouch Jr. died in Azkaban prison." Neville comments.

Hermione marks it on her list. "So I've also added his parents to the list as well. I have um... Draco Malfoy, and his parents - Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy... and to be honest I don't have much else. I just thought it made sense to make sure I had plenty of space for additions and details."

"Okay, then... let's start at the top shall we?" Harry asks with a rather toothy grin. "The Dark Lord, his Death Eaters - so that includes... um... Crouch Jr, Nott Snr, um that is Theodore Nott Snr I mean. Evan Rosier - he's dead as well I think, Amycus and Alecto Carrow - they're in Azkaban, Sirius Black - also in Azkaban, Regulus Black - missing presumed dead, the Lestrange brothers - Rodolphus and Rabastan - Bellatrix reportedly died in prison, Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe Snr, Goyle Snr, Augustus Rookwood, Wilkes, Antonin Dolohov, Severus Snape - who apparently switched sides, Igor Karkaroff - who is now Headmaster of Durmstrang." He stops, both his friends are wide-eyed.

"Professor Snape's on the List?" Hermione all but squawks.


"Harry, did you learn all the names of the Death Eaters?" Neville inquires, looking anxious.

Harry coughs, "I- er, well it's considered a good idea to be aware of who might potentially hold a grudge that one is willing to kill for. So yes, I know the names of a lot of Death Eaters, sympathisers, and I've been trying to keep abreast of various Family alliances that also might sway one..."

Hermione's looking consideringly at her roll of parchment. "I need something longer, don't I? And a better way to index everyone would help as well - so we could map alliances, family relationships, even business arrangements."

"And make it easy to update whilst you're at it. A few of the ties are in flux...and, you have to consider everyone I think and then threat assess them? I mean, we know that ah... " Neville looks around nervously, "Harry's had a few memory troubles."

"Yes, that would actually work a lot better. I have no idea how we'd go about it though."

Hermione's nodding thoughtfully, "So basically we need to build a database of our population and then start adding in various relationships between them and somehow weight things as a threat or not, and be able to produce a... list of the top threats."

"Not just the top threats, I mean, the Lestrange brothers are a threat to us all, but they don't have the virtue of proximity, unlike... say Snape or Draco." Harry adds.

Neville's frowning, "Is this a common thing in the Muggle world?"

Hermione laughs gently, "No, it's becoming more common though. I mean, we have databases full of books for libraries, and the government has various information on people I think. Now that computers are more readily available... um, a computer is a machine which can do various tasks that people program it to do. Like mathematics, or it can be used for Word processing which is like how books usually printed in type face, rather than being handwritten."

"They can also control other machines... and if you're into science-fiction - then maybe one day we'll use it to have instant communication around the globe... uh.. without using magic." Harry adds hastily.

"Without magic?" Neville sounds rather stunned. "I had no idea the Muggles could do so much!"

Both Muggle-raised children smile at this, Hermione adds, "Maybe you could both visit over summer and we could show you around the Muggle world."

"That would be amazing," Neville gushes, "though I don't know if my Gran would let me..."

Harry shrugs, "Well, there's no harm in asking, right?"

[AN: Thank you to all you lovely reviewers and readers.

Okay - who likes my Auror sting-operation? And before I get any accusations... this Obliviate/Auror set-up was planned back when the German Aurors turned into actual characters in my head.
Also it probably amuses me far too much to have Richter getting tongue-tied around this attractive foreign witch (and Sigi's crush).

Random thing to amuse: My notes read 'teach her the counter to ff' what is Bella doing reading fanfiction?

The three Black sisters - I feel like this should be a band or something

The stuff about the numbers - canon tells us 7 is magically powerful. And the rest is based on half-remembered things - language and numerology.

OMAKE: This was prompted by the review left by Beloved Daughter - she said it would be very interesting to see how much of Bella's memory Lockhart erases.

"Are you alright?" Male, accented English - German? The man asks again "Are you alright? Miss?"

She opens her eyes, to a restaurant. She's on a bench and there are two men standing over her, a blond - peacock her mind whispers and another more non-descript man - like a pickpocket team - the distraction and the pickpocket, which leaves her to be the mark. Still, this is not Azkaban, this is somewhere very different. The words she can make out on the menus are foreign - so somehow she's found herself in Germany at a first guess. More importantly, these fools don't seem to have a clue who she is.

"I... where am I?" An exchange of glances between them. A memory spell? Kidnap? Rescue?

"You're in my restaurant, Miss. You came in saying that you felt ill and then you collapsed."

"My wand?" She needs to ask this, she really does - she is perhaps not as helpless as most witches without it, but she's a lot more effective (and deadly) with it. It's then that she notices her clothes and hair - her hair is neat, well as neat as masses of dark curls can ever be, and her clothes are respectable - something she hasn't bothered with in a long while.

They are fools. They hand over her wand, it's not her old wand, it's different, but it responds to her nonetheless. She smiles and the non-descript man frowns.

She hums, rising to her feet.

"Ah, Miss? Are you sure you should be getting up so soon?" The blond finally speaks - he has the kind of voice, tone, whatever that suggests he is used to presenting himself.

"Did you know," she begins playfully, cocking her head, "that the average male has between eight and ten pints of blood?"


She's quick then "Incarcerous tentacula!" It's a variation on Incarcerous that she came up with idly once. Ribbons of Venomous Tentacula wrap themselves around the non-descript man - that must be some disguise spell - useful to learn, if he lives long enough to give it up. She lazily follows the Incarcerous with a Crucio at the blond. He screams, and she laughs. The other man is whimpering and moaning and it feels like the good old days. She releases the blond from the curse.

"Silly little man," she croons, she pats his cheek even as he's still trembling from the curse. "You tried to play with the big boys and had a little accident."

"Who?" He manages to half-gasp the question, his eyes are bloodshot and wide and so deliciously terrified.
She licks him.

"Bellatrix Lestrange." She coos into his ear, and then bites down hard. He shrieks and she laps gently at the trickles that taste of warm copper.

"No." The horrified whisper from the non-descript man.

She sighs, this isn't nearly as satisfying as it should be. "Bored now." She says brightly, and with two green lights, she's ready to go.

? So my mind went on a tangent with Bella being all crazy murderous Death Eater - I figure she'll go hunt for her Master and/or try to attack that Potter boy... being that she's lost a little bit too much memory.]