Leaves crunched under her quick-moving feet as Bellatrix Lestrange, with her dark hair flying behind her, ran through the Forbidden Forest, away from the all the celebration currently going on in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. She was out of breath and her heart was pounding, but that didn’t slow her down.

            “Hurry up Cissy!” she hissed to her sister, who ran behind her, stumbling ungracefully over the many limbs and branches that littered the trail the two of them were following.

            “Will you slow down a bit?” said the woman with long, snow-white hair struggling to keep up with her sister. “I am exhausted! We’ve gone far enough.”

            Bellatrix stopped. “Fine,” she said. Both women stepped of the path and sat down behind a tree with a particularly large trunk. They sat there for a while, catching there breath.

            “Lumos,” muttered the blonde-haired one, and the tip of the wand she was holding illuminated the face of Narcissa Malfoy, and her sister, Bellatrix Lestrange. “So? What do you want? Why have you taken me away from my husband and son to run through this dark, eerie, forest, for no seemingly apparent reason?” She set the wand down on the earthen ground, crossed her arms, and waited for an answer.

            “Well, did you see what just happened?” whispered Bellatrix.

            “What do you mean did I see what just happened? Of course! The Dark Lord is dead, and now, it’s over!” responded Narcissa.

            “You mean you believe it?” Bellatrix looked appalled. “You believe that Lord,-”

            “Don’t say that name!” said Narcissa.

            “But he is,-”

            “Just listen to me,” demanded Narcissa. “The curse rebounded off of Harry – off of Potter’s curse. It hit He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named square in the chest. It is definite that he is now dead. There is no possible way that he could still be alive, or somehow be returned from the dead. Now, if you somehow believe otherwise, fine. But if you’ve brought me here for some, Death Eater recruitment pep talk, I’m not interested. It’s over Bella! Potter and his friends won! You saw it happen, and there is no use denying the fact that You-Know-Who is dead!

            “So you believe – you think,-” but Narcissa interrupted her sister one more time.

            “It’s over,” she repeated for the third time, trying to get it into Bellatrix’s head, but she knew she would not believe that her master was dead for a very long time.

            “After all these years,” Bellatrix whispered, “he cannot be dead!”

            “There is no point discussing this anymore!” said Narcissa. As she spoke this, they could hear footsteps approaching, crunching over the leaf-covered ground.

            “Shh!” whispered Bellatrtix. Narcissa did not need to be told. There were probably people looking for remaining Death Eaters right now, and if they were caught, their lives would be at risk. She reached for the wand, whose owner she did not know. She had found it on a step of a staircase, having given her own wand to Draco. Oh, I hope he’s okay, she thought desperately. As soon as I can get away from Bella, I’ll rush back to the school and grab Draco and Lucius and head straight home. I just have to get away from Bella! Oh, she can be annoying sometimes!

            Once the wand was in her hand, she muttered, “Nox,” and the light was extinguished. Now the two women sat there, as if they were paralyzed, not daring to draw a breath, in case they were heard.

            “I think this place will do,” said a curt voice. Who could that be? thought Narcissa, but as the thought formed in her head, she realized she was hearing the familiar voice of Minerva McGonagall, however, she didn’t dare look to be sure.

            “Never in my life did I think I would be doing – this!” said someone with a high, squeaky voice, who Bellatrix and Narcissa recognized immediately as Professor Flitwick, the charms teacher. They then heard another voice.

            “I must admit I don’t like the forest much.” This voice was much more difficult to put a name to, but the sisters soon realized it belonged to Pomona Sprout, the Herbology professor.

            As they listened closer, they could also hear panting, coming nearer and nearer. “Would you hurry up Horace?” said McGonagall impatiently. “None of us really want to do this.”

            “So sorry, Minerva,” said Slughorn in between breaths. “You three walk rather quickly.”

            “ No matter. Well, Horace, will you dig the grave?” asked McGonagall.

            At this statement, both women who were hiding were flooded with curiosity, and Narcissa and Bellatrix couldn’t help but turn their heads to see what was going on. Narcissa could have gasped, but she held her breath. When she turned to look at her sister, she saw that Bellatrix’s face was mixed with shock, horror, and revulsion. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks pale, and her mouth agape. Never had Narcissa seen her sister look like this, and she knew this wasn’t good.

            “Stay where you are,” Narcissa whispered to Bellatrix. She had only spoken so quietly once before – when she had been asked to check if Harry Potter was dead, and upon realizing he was not, asking him if Draco was alive.

            The scene before them must have been Bellatrix Lestrange’s nightmare. Slughorn was waving his wand, creating a large hole in the earth, and the dirt was creating a small mound adjacent to the newly creating grave. But the shocking part was the fact that McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout were holding a body covered with a black sheet. That body was none other than – Voldemort.

            It was a wonder that Bellatrix didn’t leap from behind the tree and attack the four teacher right there, and take her master’s body and run far, far away from Hogwarts. But she knew this couldn’t be done. After all, there was four of them, and one of her, and she doubted Narcissa would stand by her side. And if she had Voldemort’s corpse, what would she do with it? She knew she must restrain herself.

            “It is ready,” announced Slughorn. Professor Sprout responded by pulling the sheet away from the body, revealing what once was the most feared wizard of all time, now a cold and lifeless corpse.

            Tiny Flitwick shuddered. “Let’s do this quickly.” The three of them silently raised the body, then slowly brought it downward, to rest in the grave. Slughorn watched in silent awe. He then took his wand, and made the mound of dirt fall back into the hole that now held Lord Voldemort.

            “Should we mark the spot somehow?” asked Sprout.

            McGonagall shook her head. “I don’t think that is necessary, Pomona. In case someone stumbles across this place, I don’t think they should know where he is buried.”

            “I agree,” squeaked Flitwick.

            “Should we head back to the castle now?” asked Professor Sprout.

            “I think so. I really don’t like being here,” agreed Flitwick.

            “After all, I’m sure there will be a delicious feast!” Slughorn smiled broadly.

            McGonagall rolled her eyes at Horace’s complete obliviousness to the serious situation. “Filius, you lead the way,” she said. Professor Flitwick lit his wand, and walked with surprising speed down the path, followed by McGonagall, then Sprout, then, lagging behind, Slughorn, who had started panting again.

            The two sisters remained silent for quite some time, until Bellatrix broke the silence. “Let’s have a look.” She stood up, and walked the short distance to where the four professors had buried the Dark Lord. She raised her wand, but Narcissa interrupted.

            “Wait!”

            “What is it Cissy?” Bellatrix said, exasperated.

            “I-I don’t think we should do this,” Narcissa said.

            “Cissy!” exclaimed Bellatrix. “Listen! He is my master! You think I will just let him lie in a hole and decay? He will return! I will make sure it happens!” There was now a manic gleam in her dark eyes.

            “Please Bella, I don’t want to see it. After all, is that not proof enough for you? They carried in his body, and buried it in dirt! Do you still think he is alive?” Narcissa.

            Bellatrix paused. “I think that he could, it is possible that he may be -,” but she was lost for words. She could see no way that Lord Voldemort was actually alive anymore, but she didn’t, of course, want to admit that to her sister.

            “You know he is dead! I am done arguing with you Bella. It is time for us to part ways,” Narcissa said.

            “Are you going to run away from me? Take poor wittle Wucius and Dwaco and wun home where it is safe?” mocked Bellatrix, using her much despised baby voice.

            “Don’t talk like that to me!” commanded Narcissa angrily, her eyes narrowing to slits.

            “Aw, what are you going to do?” said Bellatrix, still in her baby voice.

            “I am going home,” Narcissa declared. And with that statement, she turned on her heel, her robes whipping around simultaneously with her long, blond hair, and quickly walked away from her sister.

            “Well go then!” shouted Bellatrix. She had stopped using her baby voice. “Fine! I don’t care! I don’t need you! I don’t want you either! As long as I’m with the Dark Lord, I am pleased!”

            But Narcissa ignored her. She continued walking down the trail, until she had faded from view.

            “See if I care,” Bellatrix muttered to herself angrily. “I only seek his honor, not Cissy’s,” she said. And then after looking around to make sure no one was looking, she raised her wand, or at least whatever wand she had – that Mudblood Granger had her wand, and just as Horace Slughorn had done, made the earth rise and fall into a pile nearby. She smiled to herself, then got down on her knees and peered over the edge of the grave. And Bellatrix Lestrange and her master were reunited once again.

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