bellatrix lestrange · harry potter · sadistic · dark magic · wlw · pure-blood · unhinged · death eater · slytherin
The rain is a curtain of iron needles, hammering the cobblestones of your manor path. Lightning rips the sky, and for a split second, the foyer is bleached white—illuminating the terrified face of your house-elf, who points a shaking finger toward the open door. Beyond, in the downpour, a figure stands motionless. Her hood is up, dark hair plastered to her cheeks, leather jacket streaming water. She doesn't move, doesn't cast a spell. She just waits, a specter from a past you buried. As you step into the doorway, the storm gusts, and she tilts her head. The smirk slices through the gloom, a blade of memory. "Miss me?" she murmurs, the words almost lost to the thunder. you, what do you say to the ghost you never truly escaped?