The Veil

Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?
Categories:romance, horror, adventure, comfort
Characters: Legolas, Aragorn, OOC Bellatrix, Male/Male/Female, Threesome
Genres: crossover
Warnings:darkfic, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, rated M for a reason
Author's note: I love thecharacter of Bellatrix, and she doesn't seem to have enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed.
Chapters:1 of many

oOo

Cackling laughter sounded from the thin lips of the woman as bodies around her fell. Dead, and at her own doing no less. But she felt no remorse. She was quite proud at what she had done; proud that she had taken the lives. Proud that she had killed for her master.

The walnut wand held loosely in her hand was an extension of her malice. The deep thumping of the dragon heartstring at her wands core could be felt rattling up her arm, mimicking her eagerness to fight, to torture. She would fight for her Lord. And anyone would be a fool to oppose him, or more importantly oppose her, his most devoted servant.

"Avada Kedavra!"

She was a callous murderer. Death Eater was her title, and she wore it just as proudly as the mark on her arm. A wicked witch; borderline mad. No, she was mad. She was willing to sacrifice every pitiful thing she had to be closer to her Lord, the Dark Lord, her Voldemort. He was no Rodolphus, that disgusting man.

But Bellatrix was no cow.

She was not oblivious to the fact that she was easily disposable to her lord. She knew that the feelings that she harbored for him were not returned. That he was a heartless old fool, and that she was worth no more to him than a lowly muggle.

But she had no choice but to ignore the fact, ignore it, and it would seem that he actually did like her, adore her as a servant—even love her.

Bellatrix shot a well-aimed curse at a set of animated armor heading her way as she ran down the corridor towards the great hall. She could remember running the same path as a student, her only concerns then had been her potions essay, but now was not a time to reminisce.

The Hogwarts of her past was now a battleground of good and evil, and she knew she was on the better of the two sides. Voldemort harbored deadly warriors, assassins, and devoted soldiers; Hogwarts had inexperienced students, house elves, and old codgers. What kind of rebellion was that? Bellatrix laughed out loud, the school would fall just like their weak headmaster did.

The great hall was filled with rubble, dust in the air, and everywhere there were dead; it lit up a spark inside her. Immediately upon entering the hall, she was accosted by three girls, two of which she recognized; the mudblood Granger girl whom she tortured just months previously, the youngest of those blood traitor Weasleys, and a whimsical idiot-looking girl who was clearly out of her league.

They shot curses at her, but just as Voldemort fought three just meters away, she clearly had the upper hand. The mudblood cast curses at her feverishly, her hair whipping around her face, but she merely cast her aside- there was a method to her madness after all.

"You going to kill me mudblood?" She spat on the floor between her and the girl, "I wouldn't want you to miss you little Potter friend! Crucio!"

But instead of hitting her intended target, the redheaded girl jumped in front of her receiving the curse instead. Writhing in pain on the floor, the mudblood ran towards her, and Bellatrix took the open chance and attacked the blonde dimwit.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The girl turned her head away from the site of her injured friend and the consoling mudblood, but was too slow to take any action. The deadly green curse hit her square in the face, and she fell, dead, amongst the splintered wood and wreckage, her near white locks spilling over the ground tangled with her bright radish earrings, open eyes still and quite lifeless. Bellatrix burst into crude laughter, catching the attention of many of those battling around her.

"AGHHH! DON'T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!" Somewhere a woman voice screamed.

Bellatrix turned, a wicked smile graced her lips, and she licked them in pure delight. The fat Weasley mother, the lady of whom she destroyed the house of naught but a summer ago, was running as fast as her legs would take her, her wand aimed at Bellatrix. They dueled for sometime, the ground around them cracking and becoming hot, steam rising from somewhere beneath. Bellatrix sent wave after wave of nonverbal spells, only missing her intended target by mere inches, but successfully injuring wizards on both sides of the spectrums around them.

Fool of a woman, does she really think—but before she could finish her thoughts the woman raised her pudgy hand, and an unknown curse shot at her.

Bellatrix was stunned at first but at the last second she fell out of the way, landing on her back, clearly underestimating the Weasley woman. She hit the ground hard, and for a moment, her vision was clouded by spots.

She was not surprised that she had not been hit, she was not injured very often, but when she heard a great yell come from where her master was dueling, she froze up.

Voldemort sent a final spell toward those he was fighting, and turned enraged toward the Weasley woman.

Bellatrix laid shocked, too shocked to even move, as she watched her master defend her. Oh! How she longed for him to love her and defend her, to show an inkling of care! And now he does it! She was so filled with joy, too filled that she couldn't move. Her arms locked up near her face, wand clutched so tightly it nearly bent in the force, her eyes bulging out of their sockets...

But just as she started to swell with happiness, the bloody boy who lived popped out of thin air. Lying on the floor in a dazed confusion, she watched as her master and his worst mistake had an argument and then dueled for all they were worth.

Everything slowed down before Bellatrix's eyes, the Dark Lord and Harry Potter were locked in a fierce battle, slivers of sheer power exploding off of their wands and showering around them both. Bellatrix now couldn't move, but not because she was happy, but because she had a queer thought.

She looked at the two men dueling, yes men, for Harry was a man now, and noticed the expression on each of their faces. Harry's eyes were set sternly behind his glasses, and a confidence shined through that she had never witnessed before on anyone. His eyes gleamed with the light their duel was giving off, the spells becoming more of a close call by the second. Voldemort's red eyes held such a cruelty and coldness, not even Bellatrix could match. Bellatrix realized he thought her dead, and he only fought in a remembrance of a great soldier, not because he held her of great value.

The strange thought sifted through her mind a few times, sparking up areas and feelings that she hadn't used too often.

Voldemort didn't care, so why should she?

No matter how many she killed, no matter how many exploits she went on, no matter how many plans and journeys and humiliating things she did for him, he would never see her the way she did him. He would never love her, would never hold her, would never kiss and caress her, would never spend endless hours with her. He would not give up his precious immortality for her.

She meant nothing to him, nothing. And it had taken her all this time to realize it.

He had her kill innocents under his orders. She killed children, the defenseless. She killed her own cousin for him, damn it! And for what? Surely not for this?

Bellatrix was stunned, her mind reeling. For once, she didn't know what to do. Should she get up and fight? Fight those who had been her allies not moments ago?

She looked around at the circle of people against the walls of the destroyed Great Hall, all watching the Dark Lord Voldemort and Harry James Potter fight in the center of it all. Witches and Wizards, vampires and werewolves, Deatheaters and children, all fighting because of something Voldemort had done, what he had wanted, what he wants!

Bellatrix didn't know what to do. So, as Harry used his signature spell against her Lord, she apparated.

POP.

The last she saw of the Great Hall, was her Lord fallen into a great heap unto the floor.

ooo

Bellatrix, quite confused, found herself in a familiar room.

The Death Chamber, Department of Mysteries.

The place where the prophecy had been smashed due to the clumsiness of her brother in law. The place where she met the son of the man and woman she tortured into insanity. The place where she killed her cousin.

It was all quiet in the room, save for the thumping of her heart in her ears. She looked around at the dank stone, nothing. She cursed under her breath, and was about to dissapparate, wondering at her own stupidity, maybe she had finally lost her grip?, when she heard it.

Whispers. Voices calling her name. Bells chiming in a strange tongue.

Annon edhellen, edro hi lle!

She turned toward the dais behind her. Upon it stood a gate, crumbling and twisted with age. But it was not the gate that caught her attention, it was what was inside the gate. An opaque curtain, shimmering and moving as if just touch by some unknown force lie inside it.

She found herself creeping up towards it.

Annon edhellen, edro hi lle!

The voices, the bells. Again she heard them! Beckoning, she knew they were asking for her!

Enchanted, she reached out her hand, her wand still in it, and walked closer toward the curtain. She was close to it now, if only she could hear the bells…

Annon edhellen, edro hi lle!

There! There it was again! She stood before it, so close she could feel its power on her cheeks.

And then it lunged out, a vast blanket, and grabbed up her body, covering her completely and taking her in. It took her in her entirety, and she faded away, going up into oblivion.

Valar valuvar, utúlie'n aurë!

Bellatrix Lestrange was no more.

oOo

"Annon edhellen, edro hi lle!"—Crudlytranslates to "Gate of the elves open now for you!"

"Valar valuvar, utúlie'n aurë!"- The will of the Valar will be done, the day has come.

Reviews are very welcome!