The Darkness Within: Voldemort/Hadria Potter

Aftermath

"How did you do it? How did you break the curse?" Voldemort inquired, his voice tinged with a rare hint of curiosity as he held her close, his chin resting gently atop her head.

"The healer, Ms. Batts... she gave me a scroll to cure you of any foreign influence." Hadria recounted, her voice a soft murmur against the silence that had befallen the room.

His eyes, usually so piercing and commanding, now narrowed with intrigue. "Scroll magic, you say?" he probed further, his tone laced with a newfound interest. She offered a simple nod in affirmation.

"Yes."

A hush fell over Voldemort, his hand tenderly caressing her hair in a rare display of gentleness. Words eluded him, a emotions swirling within, emotions that Hadria alone seemed to stir within his chest—emotions that rendered him speechless.

The stillness was abruptly cleaved by the entrance of Lucius. His eyes, upon the sight of Bellatrix's lifeless form, widened in alarm, and he swiftly pivoted to shield Narcissa from the grim scene. "No, Lucius... you needn't shield me... allow me to see her," Narcissa's voice, steady yet laden with an impending grief, emanated from beyond the library's threshold. Hadria released her embrace from Voldemort and approached the entrance to meet her.

Lucius exhaled a weary sigh, stepping aside to grant Narcissa passage. Hadria advanced towards her, her expression somber. "I'm... I'm sorry, Narcissa," she offered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Voldemort remained where he stood, an unmoving edifice, his visage as impassive as carved marble, betraying no hint of regret for the deed he had wrought.

Narcissa afforded Hadria a faint smile, a brief touch upon her shoulder serving as a silent acknowledgment before her gaze drifted past to the fallen Bellatrix. She stifled the surge of emotions threatening to breach her composure and moved towards her sister. Kneeling beside Bellatrix, she tenderly stroked her hair, a final gesture of sisterly love amidst the echoes of tragedy.

"I just wish she would have listened to me," Narcissa's voice broke, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. Hadria, moved by the moment, knelt beside her, offering an embrace that Narcissa accepted with a weary surrender.

"It's alright... she was aware of the risks... I'm just thankful that you're alright," Narcissa murmured, her voice a fragile whisper, her eyes a testament to her sorrow, glistening with unshed tears.

"Rodolphus, wait," they heard Lucius's voice, strained with urgency, attempting to bar the entrance. Bellatrix's husband, however, was not to be deterred and pushed past with a determined force.

"What happened?!" Rodolphus demanded, rushing to Bellatrix's side, his hands searching for a sign of life that was not there.

"She's dead! Who killed her?!" Anger flared in his voice, seeking an outlet for his grief.

"I am the one who killed her," Voldemort declared, his approach measured and devoid of remorse. Rodolphus rose to face him, a tumult of fear and fury in his eyes.

"My Lord... why?"

"Because she was a traitor and a whore, Rodolphus. You should consider it a boon to be unshackled from her," Voldemort replied, his tone icy with disdain. Narcissa, caught in the crossfire of emotions, nervously bit her lip.

Rodolphus returned to Bellatrix, cradling her in his arms. Despite her infidelities and flaws, his love for her had been unwavering. He had clung to the hope that she might one day reciprocate his affection, but that hope was now as lifeless as the form he held. Swallowing the words of protest, he lifted her, tears clouding his vision, and carried her away from the scene of her demise.