Vengeance; hp universe

chapter the sixth: poisons are finicky...

If it wasn't for the image I had to maintain, I would've already brutally murdered anyone that stepped in my way. Especially the masked woman in front of me, and I doubt I would feel much more than a faint pinch of remorse. 

"Bellatrix," I greet, staring at her with nothing more than a flinch at her growl. "What?" I ask. "Upset that your 'beloved' isn't as fond of you as you think?" 

"I will be rightfully rewarded for taking you," she mutters, before lunging at me, wand tip glowing. 

A small chuckle slips past my lips as I move to the side, muttering incantations under my breath. I slip out my own wand, but don't use it, due to the trace on it. Right. I probably should've fixed that before going out and fighting with a Death Eater for fun, but it's not as if she'd remember it...

So I could have some fun with it, hm?

She doesn't even seem to notice the fire coming, until it hits her straight in the chest, disintegrating as the smoke wraps around her chest, squeezing her. She rasps out breaths, curses after curses that hit my shield in front of me. 

"Oh, Bellatrix," I murmur, leaning down to her, barely even blinking as she sends fire heading towards me. I tsk, using the wind to blow it away. "Get some imagination, darling. After all, torture is just so... boring." 

I smirk at her, using my combat boots to break her nose with one swift kick. "That's for Neville, you bitch."

The smoke disintegrates, falling back into the shadows as I turn away. "Obliviate," I murmur under my breath, watching from the entrance of the alley as she reaches for her nose, confused. It's only when I'm back at the Leaky Cauldron, sitting in a corner with a hood drawn, that I look at myself in confusion... and even some dread. It hadn't been my intention to go after her, I try to remind myself as I see my distorted reflection in the pub glass in front of me. Still, I had wiped her memories...

But why was I feeling bad for her? 

I forcefully swallow down the bile and wonder if I would be a worse human if I felt bad for her, or if I hadn't. But I had enacted a small bit of revenge, a petty piece of me was gleeful. For Neville, I had said, grinning down at her savagely. But maybe it was for myself... 

Was that so bad? 

***

As always, the library was where I spent most of my time at Potter manor. And nowadays, I spent some time chitchatting with the Potter couple, the tenseness in my muscles leaving just a little bit more every time. I wave goodbye to them, trying to ignore the sadness I can see in their eyes, the glint of sorrow capturing their pupils as they reminisced on old times. And I felt sort of bad for using what they had told me for contingencies, but... from the mouths of the dead, their sins were much more damning. 

And I intended to use their rage, to use their words, and shove them down the throats of those I was going to aggravate. After all, blackmail was most definitely a pastime accepted by society, hm?

So was making poisons, sealing them in small containers, easily opened, and storing them as if I'd be able to use them all before I died. I might not have been able to use them all even if I lived like Nicolas Flamel, constantly on the verge of decay. I watch, in trepidation, as one singular drop of my updated poison falls onto one of the invasive plants of the garden, repotted and in the middle of my lab.

It burns right through the leaf, the steam worming up the stems of the leaves, as if a worm crawling and looking for food. "Oh." I murmur, watching as the plant just... disintegrates. "Damn." I write down the notes on the latest piece of paper to hold my trial runs. "Maybe batch 212 should just be for serious situations..." I idly wish for Neville's green thumb, staring at the other wilting plants, as if my gaze forces them to confront their own mortality by the hands of my latest experiment...