Author: TombCrank the Crafty
Summary: Bellatrix LeStrange learns why it is a bad idea to practice ‘Avada Kedavra’ on foxes. (YYH-HP crossover.) One shot, character death.
Disclaimer: I own neither YuYu Hakusho nor Harry Potter.
Distribution: TTH, Fanfiction.net
Bellatrix LeStrange was not a stupid woman. She might have been a psychotic sociopath obsessively serving an evil megalomaniac bent on world domination, but she was nowhere close to lacking intelligence. In her experience, casting Avada Kedavra
would kill pretty much everything, except possibly the Boy Who Bloody Wouldn’t Die. So, when she cast the Killing Curse at a scrawny fox outside Spinner’s End en route to the traitor’s house, Bellatrix hadn’t expected anything more to come of it. (Granted, she’d never be able to join the SPCA with a clean conscience, but saving fuzzy woodland creatures wasn’t her passion anyways.)
Unfortunately for her, the fox nosing around the old fast food wrappers did not keel over and die. In fact, it looked up and glared at her after the bright green light had receded.
Bellatrix stopped in shock. Forget Narcissa and her fool’s mission to ask Severus Snape for help
; this would definitely rank as the most implausible event of the day. “This is an interesting development.” She murmured, eyeing the silver fox warily. Harry Potter was rumored to have become an Animagus and the way her luck would have it, the damnable boy would try to enact his revenge on her when she was busy with other things. Her wand raised, Bellatrix cast the spell to force an Animagus back into human form.
To her surprise, the gradually growing boy was not Harry Potter and he wasn’t bent over in pain. Forced transformations often caused screaming fits, something only the most expert of Animagi could avoid. The teenager was a redhead, bright enough to be a Weasley, except for eyes as green as Potter’s. His clothes were casual but stiffly foreign.
Bellatrix murmured another spell, this one tightly binding the wizard with dark ropes that sprang out of the tip of her wand. The boy stiffened into a rigid upright position. “Hello, there.” She greeted him calmly. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”
The redhead glared, his eyes as bright as Potter’s. “I suggest you release me now. I wouldn’t want anything… unfortunate
to happen to you.”
Bellatrix laughed. Despite popular belief, it was not the cackle of an insane woman best left locked up in an attic, but resembled the polite laughter society women used at tea parties. “Oh really? And yet I don’t feel that you pose me much of a threat at all.” She stood casually, eyeing him interestedly. “Now, will you cooperate, or am I going to have to get nasty?”
Had the boy been less of a gentleman, he probably would have spit at her. As it was, he proudly stared at her, eyes silently promising retribution.
“Imperio.” Bellatrix cast. “Now, explain to me your presence here.” She commanded.
Instead of babbling away his secrets with a dreamy expression on his face, the redhead shot her a scathing glare. “I’d rather not.” He replied haughtily.
Bellatrix scowled. Make that two
Unforgivable Curses he was immune to. It was annoying whenever her damn victims threw off the Imperius. Nothing irked her more, save for Harry Potter’s miraculous luck… or Severus Snape… or that old coot Dumbledore… come to think of it, a lot of things irked her. Now, had this been a raid or Death Eater mission, one of her fellow minions would have stepped forward and administered the Veritaserum, but she was alone and the Dark Lord hadn’t trusted her to carry any since the last time there was an incident
… (how was she supposed to know that if you gave a person more than three drops their head would explode?) Now she was stuck with her arsenal of mostly nasty curses, hexes, and spells to coerce the information out of him and any information gained through torture was always suspect.
“I suggest you do as I say.” Bellatrix finally said. “After all, you are at my mercy here.”
The foreigner raised a red eyebrow. “How positively quaint.” His wide green eyes might have been confused as innocent to most people, but to Bellatrix, there was nothing naïve about him.
Bellatrix grinned. “Quaint, indeed.” Wordlessly, she shot a low-level pain curse at him. It was nothing compared to the Cruciatus, but it did inflict a feeling of having every bone broken. At the same time. Bellatrix eyed the redhead with renewed interest, curious to his reaction. Throwing off the Imperius was nothing; a good percentage of powerful wizards and witches could do so. But to survive the Killing Curse, now that was an honor only awarded to the miraculous Boy-Who-Lived. She was rather put off when he refused to scream, but not terribly surprised. An odd wince crossed his face now and then, but mostly he remained serenely calm. Obviously, this foreigner was no stranger to pain. Curious, indeed. With a shrug, Bellatrix lifted the curse. “Hmm. I think I need to try something a little stronger if I want anything out of you, dearie. Do you want to play with me now, or shall I continue?”
The redhead shot her a vicious grin. “I’ll play. But I doubt you’ll like my game.” There was a pulse of energy that felt green somehow.
Bellatrix shivered unconsciously, the light wind suddenly chilling her to the bone. She looked around the forest clearing confusedly. Was that tree with the vines there before? Bellatrix eyed the yellow pollen it was scattering detachedly. Despite the almost certain fact that something was messing with her head (because she was never this relaxed after years of tensely crouching in the corner of her Azkaban cell), Bellatrix felt peaceful. She watched as the vines grew largish seedpods on the ends and began to swing gently in the wind… no, make that against the wind. They opened up to reveal sharp looking teeth, which should have encouraged her to start defending herself with a few well-placed fire-spells, but her limbs felt sluggish and unresponsive. The redhead, who had somehow freed himself, stood next to the tree, absently petting one of the seedpods. It writhed and arched like one of Lord Voldemort’s snakes did when he rewarded it for a job well done. Odd.
“My parole terms state quite clearly that I am not to take human life,” he stated coolly, his green eyes staring directly at Bellatrix. “However, I believe even Koemna would agree that I am allowed to defend myself. And you have attacked me, tortured me, and tried to kill me. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Looking into his dispassionate green eyes, Bellatrix giggled. Relaxed by the pollen, she no longer hid her madness like the Dark Lord had instructed her. “Bella’s been a bad, bad girl.” She laughed madly. “Confession is good for the soul; mine is quite black in name and spirit. Little Bella Black has done wrong to many. Shall you be my judge and jury?”
“No. Just your executioner.” The redhead waved a hand at her.
Bellatrix watched impassively as the snake-pods shot towards her. There was a curiously numb feeling in her arm; she looked down to see a bloody stump. A movement in the corner of her peripheral vision caught her eye and she looked at the teeth that were coming for her and then there was nothing.
Bellatrix LeStrange’s mysterious disappearance shocked the darker community. Her devotion to the Dark Lord was legendary; nothing, save death, would have prevented her from joining his side. So very few were surprised when her bloody body (or what was left of it, anyways) made its way into Diagon Alley. The Dark Lord’s wrath was immense and for weeks after he staged bloody raids on Wizard and Muggle London in retribution for his lieutenant’s untimely demise.
The Light Side, despite the devastating consequences, set a 50,000 galleon reward for the Wizard or Witch who had rid them of the insane Bellatrix LeStrange.
It’s a pity Kurama did not communicate with the Wizarding Underground, especially given the Galleon-Yen exchange rate.
Author’s Notes: You know how sometimes, when you’re writing, when the version that ends up on paper is vastly different from the one that was running around in your head? Yeah, this story was like that. I was planning to do a nice, fluffy little piece and it turned out into a dark character death. Funny how these things happen, innit? This piece was originally inspired by the line in the beginning of HBP when Bellatrix LeStrange shoots the Killing Curse at some random fox and my inner muse was like, “wouldn’t it be funny if the fox was Kurama?”. Yes, I should seek help.
-TombCrank the Crafty