Prompt 3:
I never should have let her work with them. Over and over, she asked, and I repeatedly told her that I didn't approve.
She knew I would give in, eventually - and I did.
Chasing Death Eaters had become a game to her. It was just another puzzle she had to solve, another answer she could find in a book if she searched long enough. Each time they caught one, it was another haughty "I told you we'd be fine" or a subtle smirk that carried the same message.
"I don't think you should go tomorrow," I had said. "It's too dangerous."
"You say that every time."
"Granger, I'm serious. This isn't some bloody Snatcher skulking about the forest. It's Bellatrix."
"Which is exactly why we have to capture her."
She rolled over and went to sleep, then. The next morning, she quietly kissed me goodbye while I was far too groggy to argue with her.
For hours, I waited, hoping their success would be swift.
But hours became days. Days became weeks.
Drunk and miserable, I Apparated to my childhood home - the Manor I had sworn I would never return to. Naturally, my mother welcomed me with open arms. She thought I was dead. Everyone thought I was dead.
"Your father cannot know you are here," she said, her eyes darting wildly. "Something dreadful happened last week and everyone is on high alert."
I stiffened. "What happened?"
"Bellatrix," she choked out. "She's dead."
Bellatrix - dead. A good sign.
"She was my favorite aunt," I lied. "How terrible."
"Yes, the Potter boy and his Mudblood. The redhead splinched and died as soon as he landed outside the wards."
"You captured the Potter boy and his Mudblood, then?" I asked, casually. "I haven't felt my Mark - "
"Potter escaped. His Mudblood, on the other hand," my mother smirked, cruelly, "is dead."
And with those words, I died too.
