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Chapter 9 - Divorce, Death Eater Style

Bellatrix Lestrange was infected with innocence.

She lay on the cold floor having fallen from her bed, curled into the fetal position, her body wracked with guilt and sorrow and revulsion as her own self-imposed Hell fell upon her. She knew every detail of every depraved and sadistic act she had committed or through her own inaction, allowed. The pain she had inflicted on countless others came back to her ten-fold. If it had been possible for her to die from remorse she would have perished before she had even hit the cobblestone floor. She didn't know how long she lay there but she finally cried herself out. She shivered as the cold floor leeched the warmth from her body.

"Better for all if I were just dead" she sobbed into her gown. As soon as the words left her lips she realized she couldn't, she would not be the cause of the death of another innocent, never again she vowed.

She nodded in satisfaction as a blue aura pulsed around her signifying the magical pact she had just made with herself was in full force. She uncurled and rose from the floor to stand tall; majestic in her flowing layers of black silk.

She was Bellatrix Black ne Lestrange if she had anything to say about it, the most feared death eater after the Dark Lord, an intimate of Voldemort himself. She would play the part until she could escape and bring the miracle within her to term. With this goal firmly in place she strode purposefully to the throne chamber.

Harry was having a very bad night; he was wracked with chills and a feeling akin to despair and grief. He was more accustomed to scar pain and invasive dreams or visions; this was more than a feeling but less than cogent thought. All things considered he'd rather have rational pain, thank you. Then, as suddenly as it had come on, this indefinable group of emotions flowed away; leaving him with a sense of vast resolve as if some momentous decision had been made. He had just settled back into his pillow when his yeoman called through the door, "wakey, wakey! C'mon Repple, you'll make us late f' brekkers!"

"Hmm up, I'm up!" he called back through the door stumbling to his tiny shower stall and WC.

He emerged five minutes later looking haggard and wet.

"Hold still" Marietta chuckled while straightening his collar and clasp then drying his short blond hair with warm air directed from her wand. "Can't have our glorious leader looking like an un-made bed now can we?"

Harry grunted his agreement then headed for the open mess his yeoman at his heels.

"Interestin' lesson plan f' t'day" Marietta observed, "who're you gonna pair up with?"

"Good question; Smythe is getting harder to surprise every day, I guess he wants to make sure no one else takes his job." Harry chided, knowing that Smythe had just rounded the building to join them at breakfast.

"Oi, Repple, if anyone wants my job they kin ave it, twice the work it is an' no rise in pay!"

"Oh, 'James' that reminds me." Marietta fished around her cloak for the right pocket and pulled out a parchment, "seems the ministry lost your paperwork from the induction center through your eighth week of training and you haven't been paid in all that time so. . ." with that she handed him an envelope "two months of back pay including a rise for assuming the awesome burden of command."

Harry groaned, then asked "is there enough there to sponsor a platoon party?"

Marietta looked thoughtful, "well, if we water down the firewhiskey that this would buy we could have the hall in Whitcombe for a party if y' want."

"Tell you what, hire the hall and see if you can book a band - and don't skimp on the refreshments, I'm going to see a goblin about a withdrawal."

There was barely a "pop" as he apparated away.

Half an hour later he entered the mess and made a quick sandwich from toast and bacon and said between bites. "I got 'Pumpkin Pie' for this Friday night and all the stout we could hope for as well as two cases of Ogden's finest. The Second Platoon will party this weekend."

Edgecombe and Smythe were gob-smacked.

"What? The goblins like me, all right?"

Training that day was unarmed combat. Harry needed to impress on the trainees that over dependence on wand craft could get them in trouble, and conversely, that knowing how to disarm your opponent without using magic could give you a tremendous tactical advantage.

Two trainees were told to watch for an attack from across the parade grounds and that they were to retreat into the tree line at the first sign of a magical attack. What they didn't expect was the sudden simultaneous attack from the trees themselves as Recruit Platoon Leader Evans and Master at Arms Smythe appeared as if by magic thanks to the muggle ghillie suit camouflage. Both trainees were caught in classic full-nelson holds that cut off the flow of blood to the brain; they passed out within ten seconds. By the time they regained consciousness their own wands were pointed at them by what appeared to be two man sized bushes. After helping the troops to their feet 'Evans' and Smythe doffed their expertly camouflaged jackets.

"No magic was used in this attack, just plain old camouflage netting sewn into an old army fatigue uniform. The net allows us to attach leafy branches to the clothing that match the local bushes or trees perfectly. Magic can be detected fairly easily, and MAA Smythe or I could have been stopped if the trainees had just known how to repel a physical attack. That's what we're about today. All right then, pair up and prepare to face off."

The rest of the day was spent in unwanded and unarmed techniques against an armed or wanded advisary.

RSM Moody was in a very good mood, Harry's identity as RPL James Evans was solidly in place, his troops were getting real world training from someone who actually understood the threat, hell he half-expected to hear. . .

"Constant vigilance, I can't emphasize that enough!" RPL Evans was standing over the prone forms of two trainees who were not taking the lesson to heart. "There's a reason the enemy call themselves death eaters, they will kill you and not think twice about it, other than to kill your friends and family too given half a chance!"

"Shite Harry," the old Regimental Sergeant Major swore to himself, "I think you're just about ready."

"My Lord" Bellatrix bowed, then kneeled at the foot of Voldemort's throne.

"Speak, my faithful servant."

Bellatrix spoke in a whisper so that only the wizard on the throne could hear, she sounded out of breath and frightened. "My Lord, the magics of my betrothal to Rodolphus Lestrange are attacking 'our' child, if we don't find a way to protect it I will miscarry within the week."

"Lestrange!"

Rodolphus ran to the throne and prostrated himself next to his wife.

"You may stand Lestrange, Bellatrix you may join me here." Voldemort motioned to a short stool at his right side. She flowed to the seat and sat regally; her back ramrod straight.

"Lestrange, you have been a consistent servant for almost thirty years, not stellar in the performance of your duties but adequate. Your one shining accomplishment has been to marry this witch who now sits at my right hand and bring her into my service and for that you have my appreciation."

"Thank you my lord, thank -"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Bellatrix bowed her head as a dutiful wife should. Her magical vow had been that she would not allow an innocent to suffer. Well her late husband was no innocent, and he hadn't suffered.

"Consider yourself divorced, my dear."

Bellatrix nodded.

"My Lord, I should go into seclusion, somewhere safe away from the random and potentially dangerous magics of this assembly." She knew the most dangerous and random of magics came from the half-reptile sitting to her left.

"Well said, my faithful one. Do you have a destination in mind?"

"With your permission and approval m'lord, I could stay at Malfoy Manor or one of the Black properties."

"We will consider your plan, what say you Draco?"

"My aunt is always welcome my lord." the youngest Malfoy drawled "I think, however that the known Malfoy and Black properties will be watched by the ministry."

Bellatrix and all the death eaters present knew that no place was safe for her. She would be betrayed or murdered if she moved anywhere out of Voldemort's direct control.

"We shall find a safe and suitable home for you my dear, and for our plan to come to fruition."

Bellatrix remained at the right hand of Voldemort for the remainder of the evening feared and envied by every death eater in the cavern. No one knew about the child growing in her womb save for the Dork Lord and herself.

"One moment," she mused to herself, "where on Earth did 'Dork Lord' come in?" Then another seemingly stray thought, 'Moldishorts' seemed to come out of the far recesses of her mind followed by 'Dark Tosser' and 'Dick Lard.' She set her occlumency shields in place so quickly she gave herself a headache.

Late in the evening while Voldemort was extolling the virtues of pure blood supremacy and his own infallibility; he suddenly caught the recently widowed Mrs. Lestrange in his reptilian gaze.

"What do you know of immortality, or the elusive surety for it?"

"You have told us, my lord, that you have gone farther than any man down the road that leads to immortality."

His reddened eyes opened in surprise as he knew that she knew the truth of what he said. Bellatrix's eyes also opened in shock, but for a completely different reason. The lightning bolt scar formed a link between Voldemort and Potter. The developing fetus formed a link between Harry and Bellatrix. When the Dark Lord heard her repeat his oft repeated words his mind instantly cataloged all the locations of the guarantors of his continued existence, his horcruxes, and that information passed through Harry into Bellatrix in the amount of time that Voldemort took to have the thought.

In that moment Bellatrix realized that if she had the will then she had the means to destroy Voldemort forever.