And Yet She Wasn't

A/n: Weird crossover, inspired by seeing the movie. First fic for either fandom

Disclaimer: Don't own either fandom

At first, I hated her.

He came in, just another customer, but she came with him, tall and clad in that fancy dress and a hood so I couldn't see her face and those black gloves. And I couldn't introduce him to my friend because she was there.

At first I thought they were just some clingy young couple, fresh out of the church with lips still clean from wedding vows. But it soon became apparent that they weren't—because she wasn't clingy, and he wasn't clean.

But me, disillusioned me, saw love in her eyes and decided to arrange a little meeting with my friend anyway, because I hated her and I didn't know why.

And when she saw the blood and heard his strangled cry that would probably have been an expletive had it been comprehensible…

…she smiled.

Smiled, an evil little twist of those rouged-up lips. And said her first words to me, "Good job".

And I was stunned, and it dawned on me that she might be mocking me, and I hated her more…

…and then she took off that hood.

And I stared. And she smirked.

For she was Nellie. The curve of her face, the gleam of her black eye, the pale skin of her hands, everything about her was Nellie. And yet she wasn't Nellie, because she was smiling when I lay his body in the bloodstained chest, whereas Nellie would have screamed and covered her eyes.

And after the lid had closed on his unseeing eyes, I didn't even wait to wash the blood off my hands before pinning her against the wall and kissing her. And there was no "I love you, Mr. Todd," or "Let's get married, Mr. Todd," there was just me and this Nellie-that-wasn't.

And that was exactly who she was. She was Nellie without the baggage, Nellie without the sad eyes and the dreams of a happy future and the little kid with the alcohol fixation tagging along. She was cruel and heartless and completely evil, and in that she was not Nellie…but in her looks and her eyes she was Nellie, so in the heat of our passion it was like having Nellie, but infinitely, infinitely better.

She had plans of revenge too, this Nellie-that-wasn't (I called her that even when I learned her name was Bellatrix,) and she had power, a power for killing equal to (if not greater than) my own. And I slit the Potter brat's throat with my friend, and she obliterated Judge Turpin with her own friend (a sort of stick that held powers beyond my wildest dreams,) and that was that.

But of course, she wasn't satisfied. I had known she was using me from the moment she entered my store, even if I didn't realize it yet. I had used Nellie, and I used her, but not-Nellie (Bellatrix, Bellatrix) used me back. And even when her friend blasted a hole through my dark heart at the same moment my friend severed that pale swan's neck of hers, I was happier with not-Nellie than I could ever have been with Nellie…

…because who needs a pie when you can just turn the corpses into ashes?