𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

fifty four

The lessons with Bellatrix are gruelling, but to Betty's blessing; quick. The woman is repulsed just by the sight of Betty, so if it hadn't been for Draco, she wouldn't still be teaching the pair of them.

Not that this would be her most pivotal task to care for. More often than not, the death eater busies herself with managing Snatchers and the prisoners they drag back with them.

She would much rather perform the act of tormenting and interrogating prisoners than teach others to do it. Secondary torture doesn't give her the gushing glee that she craves.

Betty makes it her mission to not ever learn how to actually perform the crucifying curse. She speaks the words with fear, knowing well that if her mind is restraining the outcome of the incantation, the curse will not actually manifest into reality.

Even with her wand pointed at a trembling, teeth-chattering elf, Betty still finds a way to think happy thoughts, opposite to what is required when executing the curse.

Needless to say, Betty's lack of improvement only added fuel to the fire. Bellatrix loathed her more than ever for wasting her time.

There was once when the death eater's frustration was evident, bouncing against the walls of the hall. She lifted up her wand and pointed it right between Betty's eyebrows, threatening to perform the Imperio curse on her.

Draco had tried to jump to Betty's defence, as if it were a reflex that couldn't be stopped, despite her last warning.

Calmly, he had reminded her that the Dark Lord had strictly forbidden Bellatrix from controlling the minds of her students - something about mind control being a contortion of a person's will, making it false teaching.

He wanted his new, younger followers to be malevolent at their own accords, less crazy unlike Bellatrix who had clearly been disturbed in the head many times. He needed a levelheadedness from the new generation.

The woman had a sinister internal conflict right there and then as she began muttering to herself, close to Betty's ear. She had never seen a death eater behave in such a strange, frightening way, Betty almost wanted to surrender.

Thankfully, Bellatrix had come to a good sense that it was no good torturing Betty out of pure anger - though only after a good minute of internal combat. It would only relinquish the Dark Lord's fury, and that was her only terror.

The snow pile has been receding and melting under the blistering sun for the past few days, signifying winter's end. Patches of grass are more obvious than the white snow capping the hill on the horizon.

From where Betty sits, on a cushion at the window sill of her room, she can see that. A sudden dismalness befalls her realising that a season is over, and yet she is still stagnant in her prison.

She sits with her knees huddled against her chest. A book lies on the cap of her knees, but she hasn't flipped it once in the past dozen minutes.

The door bursts open abruptly, startling the girl who has been so engrossed in her own thoughts.

"Blimey," she whispers under her breath, clutching her chest at the shock.

None other than Joseph struts in, wearing a black hooded robe and flaunting an iron armour over his chest, decorated with intricate carvings. Betty recognises the costume immediately.

He notices her fright almost immediately, finding humour in it. "Did I scare you?" Pacing the room, he continues, "I would apologise. But I don't see why I'd to you."

Nostrils flaring in exasperation, Betty gently slips a dulcet ribbon into the page she had stopped at and slapped the book shut. "What is it? Another death eater business you need me to do again?"