Anyway, for the Writing Your Butt Off and Typing Until Your Fingers Bleed-Audition Stage. Non cannon. BellatrixArthur. Prompts are bolded.

She had come to him, and she was crying.

Bellatrix Black had always been his best friend. He knew all of her secrets and she knew all of his.

Well, almost, that is.

He'd known that her husband beat her and that she missed her sister Andromeda more than anything at all. He knew her husband and family weren't aware of their friendship and that she loved strawberries. He knew that she found American presidency fascinating and that his poor, sweet Bella had been forced to take the Dark Mark.

She had been crying because Rodolphus Lestange, (the name made him grind his teeth) had come home drunk. He'd started shouting at her. "Worthless! Coward! Stupid! Faulty! Idiot! Useless! Incapable!" All her worst fears to the surface, then started beating her. Had Bellatrix not been there, looking for help, for once in her life (the only time now, he'd reflected, she'd never get the chance to do it again because of Lestrange.)

She'd buried her head in his right shoulder, where it'd fit perfectly, which was duly noted. He'd gripped her hand and stood up. They'd stood up and began walking through the orchards of Ottery St Catchpole. She'd recounted everything that'd happened, refusing to shed a tear. He pulled her into his favorite clearing, put his arm around her shoulders, and plopped down. She'd tripped, with a pronounced "Oomph!" and answered with a snort. They'd talked in the midnight moonlight, the light bounding off of her. That light had been in her eyes, oh how he'd missed it.

She'd punched him on the shoulder and mock glared as they'd talked for what must've been an hour.

He'd put his arms around her and trying to hold back. Finally, he gave up when she gave him that coy smile. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on her lips.

'Just a kiss goodnight.' He'd lied.

Ten minutes later, 2 A.M to be honest, she left, kissing him on the cheek and dissapearing with a CRACK! The place where she was had left only air behind, no indications she'd ever been there, except the memories and cheek Arthur was touching with the palm of his hand, in shock.

That was the last time he ever saw her alive.


The next time he saw her was in that same clearing.

She was dead, and had a note on top of her elegant hand, sprawled out.

The note wasn't from her.

Rodolphus's chicken scratch had one sentance.

Just a kiss, Weasley?

Looking down at her dead body, his beautiful, amazing Bellatrix's body, he swore he'd kill Rodolphus Lestrange.

Looking down at her, he came to a realization.

"I'm still in love with her."

This was a statement, ringing out in the clearing, the only ears it falling upon, his.


The last time he ever saw her was in her coffin.

He was at the funeral, listening to the Euology and laughing at how SCREWED up they made it.

He stared at her body.

"Goodbye, Bella. Wait for me?"


Maybe, if the world was different, if Bella and Arthur weren't from completely different places, if the world hadn't been so screwed up, they could of been something.

But BellaandArthur were just another "Could be, maybe' in this world. A mockery of them, to be oh-so close and oh-so far away.

BellatrixandArthur were just another 'Could be, maybe'.