Black Widow

“MEETING CONCLUDED.” THE SNAKE-LIKE MAN ANNOUNCED, STANDING UP FROM HIS THROWN GRACEFULLY. 

His gold arm shimmered from the glow of the candles placed throughout the room, giving his appearance an even more haunting look. With a sharp look to his followers, the man’s lip curled into a sneer before disappearing from sight, the only clue of him ever being there was his left-over wine glass. 

After a moment, a few of the death eaters stood up from their seats, shuffling towards each other and beginning quiet conversations. Although, all of them seemed to have the collective thought of staying away from Bellatrix Lestrange, who was staring down all of them the same way a hungry wolf would its meal. Once Natasha deemed it good enough for her to move, without causing any suspicion, the girl stood up from her seat — head kept down low, and out of sight. 

Still, even if almost everyone ignored her presence, there was one who kept following her every move. 

Snape. 

She knew that even if she managed to avoid him, he would seek her out and question her — probably asking her why she didn’t take the chance to escape, or something. She figured it was better to get it out of the way. Heels clicking down on the shiny tiles, she walked past the man, only taking a split moment to look up and catch his gaze. She could tell she got his attention — eyes glazing over in curiosity. 

Finally, she made her way out of the meeting room, hearing the door slam behind her after a few moments. Only sparing a single moment, she used the mental map she had created in her head and led the two to a secret room. Well, it wasn’t quite a ‘secret’ but she figured no one was gonna interrupt them in the marijuana garden growing in one of the spare rooms. 

Out of all things, she least expected the Malfoys getting highs — she at least thought they were doing the heavy shit! However, the girl shook off her thoughts about the secret drug dungeon in Malfoy's manner, leaning up against the wall, and waiting for Snape to join her. 

It took another two minutes, but he finally opened the door — his nose wrinkling in a distasteful way. “The drug room… lovely…” He sneered under his breath, before turning his attention to Natasha, who stared back at him challengingly. Immediately, his demeanor changed; he had a complete poker face. “Who are you?” He demanded, eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

Natasha smiled, and crossed her arms over her chest, “What?” She teased, “You don’t recognize me? Here, I’ll give you a hint: our bites are deadly.” 

It took a second for those words to sink in, but when they did, he breathed out, “Natasha?” However, that didn’t seem to be enough proof for Snape, “What’s something only the two of us would know?” 

“That I once took a really heavy shit in your shoe when I was 1.” The girl deadpanned, face completely serious. Even with his collected expression, his cheeks still lit up from embarrassment. “Believe me now?” 

Finally convinced about her identity, the man pulled her forward, checking her for any injuries. “Are you alright?” He asked, concerned in his deep eyes. Natasha smiled softly, rubbing her hand down her arm. “That’s not really a good question to ask, is it?” She murmured, lips pulling into a grimace. 

The man huffed, eyes rolling fondly. “Still, are you hurt anywhere? Is there something I could do to help with the pain?” He questioned, concern in his voice. 

“Well, obviously,” She chuckled, “But… you can’t do anything about it. Voldemort, he, uh… he figured out some interesting news about me and my friend. We can both feel each other’s pain, and Voldemort really likes to run tests on it. If one of us wasn’t writhing in pain on the floor, he’d know something was up.” 

The Potions’ Master hummed, a displeased but understanding expression on his face. “I see…” He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. An awkward silence filled the room, and finally, Natasha decided she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Is the order really planning on breaking into headquarters to rescue me?” She asked, wanting to know the answer. Snape tucked his arms behind his back, fingers intertwined with each other. There was an almost… disgusted look on his face. “Sev?” She urged the man to continue. 

“The Order’s not coming.” 

She blinked, and then again, and once more for good luck. The order… wasn’t coming? Of course, she would agree with that move strategically thinking, but damn — she was pretty hurt. Here she was, stuck in this mansion, getting tortured every day, and they couldn’t even manage to send someone to check in on her. Eyes trailing up from the ground, she met Severus’ eyes, a question on the tip of her tongue. “Why didn’t you at least come to check in on me? I’ve been here for over a month, and I know you get called to meet with the Dark Lord often.” 

It seemed as if he wasn’t prepared for that question. “I didn’t know where you were.” Was his response. Natasha could almost roll her eyes at how generic that reply sounded. 

“Really?” Her eyes narrowed in amusement, “You didn’t know where I was? Thought that would be pretty obvious, considering that’s where Voldie-Smorts sends all of his prisoners.” 

“I would get caught—!” 

She scoffed, eyebrows raised up to her forehead. “You’re literally a spy, Sev. You’re also the Dark Lord’s trusted potioner — someone respected around here. I doubt no one would bat an eye if you made up a lie to go down there.” She retorted. 

He was quiet — shame flashing on his face. Rolling her glamorized eyes, the girl licked her dry lips in complementation. She could see his reasoning, as a double spy. Obviously, if she was in his shoes, she would do the same thing. But, call her hypocritical; she was upset. Especially since Snape was her GODFATHER — he should’ve tried to check up on her! Sighing, the girl locked eyes with the older man, a look of exhaustion on her face, “Just…” she trailed off, thinking about how she would continue, “…just tell the order — my family — that I’m okay, and to call off any rescue. I’ll figure a way out of here, I always do.” 

Nodding in response, the man looked like he wanted to say something, but held his tongue. “Stay safe, Natasha.” He demanded a serious expression on his face. A soft smile formed on her lips, eyes crinkling up. 

“Of course, Uncle Sev.” 

When Yelena finally awoke, confusion clouded her mind. Why was she in the bathroom in Hogwarts? From what she could remember, she was in the sewers with… Jor. What happened, she asked herself. All she could remember was finding the God, and then… rage. 

After that, everything was fuzzy. What caused her to be so angry? She felt… like she missing something— like a missing puzzle piece. Sure, she could piece together what happened, but she wouldn’t have the exact thing that happened. Hell, it felt like someone plucked out her memories, leaving her wondering what happened. Her eyes took in the room in front of her, it was… it was impeccable as If nothing happened at all. 

She was… she was sure something happened here. She could remember getting caught by the ghost and feeling fear. The room — looked wrong. Pushing herself off the ground, she sucked in a deep breath of surprise as her legs shook underneath her. Grabbing the nearest wall, she steadied herself, taking a few seconds to calm her erratic breathing. 

This was all wrong! 

She felt like she was back in the red room, being conditioned to do things she didn’t want to do. She felt like she was under that weird gas that was being talked about between some older girls. Oh, god… what if she was under it? What if she never escaped that horrible place, and her life — everything that she loved — was all fake? What if this was their way of controlling her, and the fuzzy memories she has is her way of fighting back?! 

Without her consent, her legs dropped out from her, falling onto the hard floor. Millions of thoughts raced throughout her head; hands flailing around in a repetitive way. Natasha always lovingly called them her ‘dino hands,’ which would always get her to laugh. But, now… now it did nothing. God, why couldn’t she remember anything? 

Why?!

Why, why, WHY, wHY, whY, WHY—

She jumped up in surprise, training kicking in. The person underneath her grunted in surprise, hands grabbing at her arm which pressed down on the person's throat. “What?” She hissed, tears filling her eyes in frustration. God, she couldn’t even have a good, ol’ panic attack in private! 

“Yelena!” A familiar voice wheezed out, nails digging into the blonde’s arm, desperate for air. “Yelena, it’s me — Hermione!” 

The blonde’s tears cleared up enough for the girl to see properly, meeting the warm eyes of Hermione. While she wanted to let go — to let the older girl comfort her, was it… was it even real? Was this a figment of her imagination to deal with her trauma? Was Hermione even a real person, or did she make her up; like the way an author would make up a character for their story? She shook her head, sucking air in through her teeth, “No, I… you can’t be real; I’m still there!” Her voice shook as she said those words. 

Hermione’s eyes widened, lips parting slightly, “Where—?” Her voice choked out, limbs flaring around to try and throw off the younger girl. “You know where! The place where unloved children are sent; the red room!” Yelena’s voice got quieter and quieter with each word, and with that, so did her power on her choke-hold. 

With all of her strength, Hermione pushed the girl off of her, scrambling up from her position on the ground, putting as much room she could between them. “Yelena, I’m not a character; I’m real!” Hermione reasoned, fingers gripping her wand in fear. Merlin, she didn’t want to hurt the girl, but she would certainly put her in a body bind if she needed to. 

The young girl scoffed, a sneer forming on her lips. “You would just say that to convince me otherwise!” She snapped, tears falling out of her eyes, “Why would I believe you if I can’t even believe myself? I don’t know what’s real or not!” 

Hermione couldn’t help herself, she stumbled back in shock — her hand falling in front of her mouth in shock. “You can’t… you don’t know what’s real or not?” Her voice shook, lips forming into a frown. Yelena shook her head, a bitter laugh falling out of her lips. 

“No, this is all a figment of my imagination—to try and prove to myself that…” her voice shook, voice growing quieter with each word, “That I’m still in control; that I’m still me.” 

That… wasn’t something Hermione expected — certainly not from a 12-year-old girl. Faintly, Hermione could hear the sound of heels clicking down on the concrete floor, signaling that someone was near. She hoped it was one of her friends, or a teacher… just not Umbridge. 

She held her hands up in surrender as Yelena stalked towards the girl, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. She grunted in pain as the young girl pushed her in the chest, feeling the air pushing out of her lungs. “You’re not real!” The blonde grunted teeth gritted together tightly. “You’re. Not. REAL!” With that last yell, Hermione was pushed up against the bathroom wall. Pushing away her guilty conscience, Hermione exclaimed, 

“Stupefy!” 

Yelena screamed, body blasting back from the shock of the spell. Wasting no time, Hermione quickly cast a body-binding spell, making sure the girl couldn’t hurt herself or her. “LET ME GO!!” Her neck strained, voice desperate. 

It seemed as if luck was on her side today as a teacher, (who was not Umbridge) walked into the bathroom. McGonagall gasped, disgruntled by the sight that met her eyes. “Ms. Granger!” The Head of Gryffindor exclaimed, frantic eyes meeting the girls. “What… What in the world happened here? Why is Ms. Belova in this school?!” 

Hermione gaped, looking like a fish fresh out of water. While yes, she was relieved that help arrived, she also realized another thing…. 

They were all gonna get into trouble. 

After her meeting with Severus, Natasha wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Of course, she had scaled the building to the best of her ability, and practically knew every single room, but… What use was that if she was supposed to be a prisoner? Also, it’s not like she could go back down there and pretend nothing happened — she broke the cuff! 

Thoughts of all kinds rushed through her mind, irritation flowing through her. What the hell was she supposed to do?! Honestly, she felt like stomping her feet on the ground and letting out a loud scream. What had her life even come to? 

Was this what her life was gonna be like now? Crazy event after crazy event? God, at the rate she’s going, she probably won’t even make it to her 40th birthday! Letting out a sigh of irritation, the girl rolled her glamoured eyes and made her way back to the dungeons. She did suppose Tom deserved some type of answer on what was going on; she knew he was probably going stir-crazy just waiting for her. 

Making sure no one was looking, the girl quietly creaked the door open, slipping through silently. “Tom-!” She went to open her mouth, only to stop. 

…Where the hell was Tom? 

Did he… did he seriously leave? In a house filled with freaking DEATH EATERS? Or was he just bullshiting her — hiding behind something for shits and giggles? Of course, she knew that wouldn’t be the answer as there wasn’t anything for him to hide behind, but… it was the thought that made her feel better. 

God, did he want them to get caught? While yes, Tom was an excellent liar, he wasn’t a trained spy – he wasn’t able to use his surroundings to his advantage unless it had something to do with magic. Magically? He’d be able to beat anyone in a fight. Physically? That was like asking a blind man to describe what someone looked like. 

Of course, she could’ve hurt herself to get Tom’s attention, but without knowing how far away he was, it was useless; the connection only really worked when the two were close to each other. Fuming, the redhead bit her lip in complementation - thinking about what to do. However, it seemed at that exact moment, Tom finally sensed her rage and slipped into the dungeon. His eyes were wide, lips moving to speak. 

“-Ah,” Natasha cut the man off, holding up a hand, “Are you kidding me? Did you seriously sneak off?” Her voice was annoyed, eyebrows raised to the ceiling. Tom licked his lips, hands falling onto his hips. “I heard something that sounded promising, so I followed. Natasha, honestly, can you blame me?”

The girl deadpanned, “Yes.” Shaking her head, the girl crossed her arms over her chest, “Because obviously, Tom Riddle can’t control his impulses, hm?” She sneered, hair poofing up like a lion’s mane. 

“Natasha, calm down.” The man whispered, hands reaching out to touch her shoulders. Ducking out of the way, the redhead scoffed. “Nat-!”

“-No. No, you don’t get to tell me to calm down, Tom. We’re being held captive by death eaters, the world is at the edge of a war, and people are going to die. I’m sorry, do you wanna go get a milkshake?” Scoffing, the girl sneered, “Oh, wait – we’re being held captive!” 

Tom narrowed his eyes, wisely choosing to keep his mouth shut. Letting out a sigh, Natasha ran a hand down her face, letting out a groan of frustration. “I…” She trailed off, “What did you find out?” 

He was quiet, eyes flickering up and down her form. 

“...They’re planning on breaking into the ministry and stealing the prophecy.”

Prophecy? Tilting her head to the side, Natasha opened her mouth, “Prophecy? What prophecy?” Tom flinched back, seemingly having an unexpected response. “What?” She urged the man to continue, wanting to know what the big deal is. 

“Natasha… have you ever wondered why he – I – decided to come after you?” The man asked, eyebrows furrowed together with worry. Natasha licked her dry lips, mind blanking. God, had she really never wondered? Of course, she remembered Snape mentioning a prophecy, but hadn’t bothered to dig any further – stressed about the tournament. God, she remembered when that was the most stressful part of her life. Gesturing for the man to continue, Tom cleared his throat, “There was a prophecy made… I only heard the first half, of a baby born at the end of July, with parents who defined me thrice. The only babies due at the end of July were Neville Longbottom and Rosa Potter.”

Neville? “Why did you choose me?” she asked, genuinely curious. 

“I wanted someone similar to me. Neville Longbottom is a pureblood, and I am not.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room and both of the occupants were unsure of what to do next. “When are they planning it?” The girl asked, green eyes meeting red. Tom sighed, hand rubbing over his mouth. “At the end of the week. He, uh…” Tom trailed off, “He plans on making that his official entrance back into the wizarding world.”

Natasha hummed in response, a plan forming in her head. This was the moment she was waiting for! “We’re gonna need to get you a disguise, don’t you think?” She smirked, making it known what she wanted to do. Tom smirked in response, understanding what she meant. 

They were getting out of there, once and for all. 

When the blonde woke up, her head was pounding – light hurting her eyes. Her body felt like jelly, almost as if all of her bones had been removed and replaced with jello. Even though her head hurt like hell, she felt calm; as if she was floating on a cloud. 

Going to sit up, the blonde was stopped by something. Looking down, she saw her left wrist was bound to the hospital bed she was on. She grunted, pulling on it roughly. Still, it was no use. Looking around, she noticed she was in some kind of infirmary – a really old one if she was being honest. Her eyes floated around the room, landing on a group of familiar people.

The group hadn’t seemed to notice that she was awake, having a conversation with an old woman in a nurse's uniform, and Headmaster Dumbledore.  Sirius looked like a mess, curls frizzy beyond relief. The bags underneath his eyes were heavier than usual, and she could see his exhaustion more clearly than she’d ever had before. 

Remus looked like a kicked-puppy, head held down low. If she looked close enough, she could see the circles under his eyes. And Clint… 

He looked tired. 

Clint finally seemed to notice the eyes on the group, and looked up, meeting blue eyes of Yelena. “Kid…” Clint breathed out in relief, catching the rest of the group’s attention. Sirius gasped, rushing over to her and pulling her into a tight hug. Yelena took in a deep breath of his comforting smell, shoving her face into his chest. 

“You’re in so much trouble, Lena…” Sirius mumbled, arms tightening around her frame. Yelena chuckled, tears filling her eyes, “I know, Siri… I know.” The man finally pulled back, allowing the others to give their share of hugs. In the back of her mind, she still wondered if this was even real at all, but… her happiness pushed that thought away. 

After a few moments of peace, a clearing of a throat interrupted everyone. Looking up, Yelena felt like screaming. It was hideous! “God, you’re ugly.” The girl blurted out. The woman in pink gasped, a disgruntled look on her face. 

“How dare you!” The woman exclaimed, sounding like a shrieking banshee. No, wait, the girl took that back – a banshee sounded better than the woman. However, the insult didn’t seem to stop the woman, who turned to Dumbledore with a smug look on her face. “As part of my job, it is my duty to report anything that is not acceptable in the eyes of the ministry. Headmaster, I have compelled serval lists of violations and had them sent to the ministry.” It was at that moment, serval professedly dressed people walked into the room, some of them in auror uniforms. 

One of the Aurors stepped forward, magic-restraining cuffs in his hands, “Albus Dumbledore,” the man stated, “You’re under arrest for several acts of child endangerment, non-ministry approved lessons, and the allotment of muggles to see the sacred grounds of Hogwarts. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right–” Yelena felt like she was watching everything in slow motion. Dumbledore’s eyes widened, and without any hesitation, the man waved his wand, disappearing from the ground. The people from the ministry gasped – a look of shock on their faces. However, the shock didn’t last long as they turned their attention to the group next to them. 

“What do we do about the muggles? Technically, they know about the wizarding world, but they should have never seen Hogwarts. How did the kid even get in here? Is the security here that bad? That even a muggle kid can get in?” One of the members spoke, disbelief in her voice. 

“I mean, we’ve kinda been slacking with the wards here. Aren’t we supposed to check them up every 5 years? When was the last time we did anything here?”

“I don’t know… I think the last time it happened was when I was in school, and that was 15 years ago!”

Sirius and Remus shared a look, wondering what the hell they were supposed to do. Were they supposed to run? “Should we just let them go? I mean, less paperwork for us?” Someone suggested, and everyone muttered amongst themselves, nodding in agreement. After a few moments, the auror who was supposed to arrest Dumbledore spoke up, “You guys are free to go. Just, uh… Don’t come back to Hogwarts, yeah? It doesn’t matter that you’re the girl-who-lived sister; you don’t get a free pass… and, you,” The man waved his hand in Clint’s direction, unsure of what to say, “Just, uh… stay away too, yeah?” 

The group all shared a look, before awkwardly starting to walk away. However, before they could leave, the pink-dressed woman exclaimed, “Wait! Since Dumbledore is out, and McCongall is clearly not fit to be the headmaster, then who will take over the position?” 

“Uh, you, I guess… We don’t really care.” One of the minister's works said, hands shoving into her robe pockets. Yelena froze, lips parting in shock and horror. 

Oh god… what has the world come to? Giving the woman one last horrified look, the blonde stumbled her way out of the infirmary. She prayed for everyone’s sanity. She knew, if she were in their positions, she would be pulling her hair out from madness. 

By the end of the week, Natasha felt she was prepared as well as she could be. She had stolen another uniform and lied successfully when questioned about the missing uniform. Tom denied a wand, claiming he was just as powerful without one. Still, she transfigured a random stick she found and gave it to the man. 

There was one last meeting before the group decided to head off to the ministry. She stood in the back with Tom, trying to put as much distance between the two and Voldemort. She had hoped he couldn’t sense Tom, but it luck wasn’t on their side today. 

“My Followersss…” The snake-like man hissed, eyes slitting like a snake. “I have discovered something this evening… it seems our prisoners have escaped and are hiding among us.” 

Natasha kept her cool, having figured this would happen. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Tom’s hand formed into a fist — blood coming out from the amount of pressure he was using. “My plan was to only take a select few, but… everyone will now be coming! And as a warning to my prisoners — there will be consequences to this.” The man stalked around the room, getting close enough that Natasha could smell him. 

She stood still, head held down in a submissive stance. She controlled her heartbeat, making sure to keep her breathing at the normal rate. Of course, she wanted to scream out in frustration but knew that would only out her faster. 

“Come! Tonight, we shall announce my arrival back to the Wizarding World!” He exclaimed, a malicious laugh bubbling out of his throat. Everyone in the room cheered, hands clapping together in excitement. Natasha and Tom played along with false smiles of excitement on their faces. 

They shared a look, leaning toward each other to talk quietly. “Play along. We need to keep them off our tails as long as possible.” Tom whispered, hands still clapping. Natasha nodded in response, and by then, the claps had died down. 

They followed the massive group of Death Eaters outside. Natasha held onto Tom, and he apparated them away. Within a moment, they landed in the hall of prophecies. “Lucius,” Voldemort called out, “Search for the prophecy. Everyone else, round up any spare workers you find.” 

Everyone nodded, heading off to do their task. “Tom,” Natasha muttered, “Something doesn’t feel right. He said there would be consequences… Where are the consequences?” 

The man shrugged, adjusting his mask. “I don’t know, Natasha… I don’t know.” He replied, voice unsure. Sighing, the girl started searching for any spare ministry workers, playing along. 

She’d stalk them quietly, getting them alone in a corner, and quickly send a stunner to them, catching them off guard. She’d then bind them, and bring them to the ministry hall, where the rest of the death eaters were bringing the people. She had managed to get 5 of them when something happened. The fireplace went up in flames, and out stepped… 

Hermione? 

Natasha tilted her head to the side in curiosity as more of her friends stepped out of the fireplace. They all looked scared — eyes wide with fear. Finally, Umbridge stepped out of the fireplace, a pleased smile on her face. “My Lord,” the woman purred, sounding like the cats she was obsessed with. “I have brought what you have asked of me.”

Voldemort hummed, looking over her group of friends. Blaise stood in front of the group, putting on a brave front. Daphne and Hermione stood behind, huddled close together. The fight club, which she had gotten close to, all stood together – kids of all ages. Finally, the monster hummed, pivoting on his feet. “Natasssha Romanoff, and My Horocrux…” He announced, “For every-five minutes you don’t reveal yourself, one of your friends dies.” A large smile formed on his lips, his cracked lips straining beyond relief. 

Stay calm, stay calm, the girl continued to tell herself. The loud, cackling laugh of Bellatrix echoed throughout the hall. Natasha watched in horror as the woman stalked up to Neville Longbottom, who stood frozen with fear. “Little ‘itty Neville Longbottom… How’s mom and dad?” The woman mocked, before laughing at herself, “Oh, just look at that face! So scared, so fearful!” 

Neville gulped but managed to quip back, “I’m not scared of you. Y-You managed to get caught afterward, and spent 15 years in Azkaban because of it.” Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, face going from the mocking look she was sporting to a serious, pissed-off one. 

Her hair puffed up as if electricity had hit her. 

“My Lord,” Lucius interrupted the silence, running up to the man, “I have found the prophecy, my lord.” Natasha’s eyes snapped over to the glowing ball, which was wrapped in fabric. Tom and she shared a look, a conversation between their eyes. 

They couldn’t let him get the prophecy. 

However, it seemed as if luck was on their side. Bellatrix finally snapped, whipping her wand out to cast a spell. However, she was blown away by a blast by Neville, whose eyes were as wide as the sky. “Oh, my god…I just blasted bloody, Bellatrix Lestrange away from me.” Because of the blast, Bellatrix actually went flying into Lucius, knocking the prophecy out of his hands. 

“RUN!” Daphne shouted, grabbing some of the younger member’s hands and pulling them with her. Natasha took the moment of chaos to her advantage, running over to the prophecy. Dropping to her knees, she picked it up, quickly shoving it into her robe. “Umph!” She grunted as she was kicked in the ribs. 

Looking up, she met the furious eyes of Voldemort. With his teeth gritted, he yanked the mask off her face and waved away her glamor. A pleased smile formed on his face – the plaque strong on his yellow teeth. “Hello, Natasha…” He hissed, tongue flickering. 

She kept quiet, face angry. 

“Quiet, now?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the shadow of Tom behind the man. “Touch a single hair on her head, and I’ll tear you out from inside out.” Tom threatened, pure magic flowing between his fingers. Voldemort huffed, his robes flowing with movement as he turned around. “You’re delusional, you know that, boy? We are one-in-the-same; we are equal in strength.” Voldemort replied. 

Natasha stood up from her place on the ground and simply left the man with Voldemort. Honestly, with the way it was going, both of them were going to end up dead. Making sure the prophecy was secure, the girl broke into a run, searching for any of her friends or order members. She ducked and weaved out of the way of spells, noticing the once bond minister workers were set free. She supposed her friends let them out. 

“AHHHH!” A loud scream was heard – a familiar loud scream. Natasha took off towards the sound, pushing her legs harder than before. Coming to a halt, red flooded her vision as she watched her best friend be tortured. Running forward, the girl threw her body onto the attacker, bringing him down to the ground. The man grunted but was unable to fight back as she took the knife on her thigh, and stabbed the man in the throat – blood splattering on her face.

He gurgled, hands falling to his neck, to try and stop the bleeding. Alas, it was no use as he quickly bled to death. Getting off the man, she rushed over to Daphne, who was being comforted by one of the younger members. “Daph!” Natasha breathed out in relief, grabbing her friend’s hand. Daphne’s eyes widened, a look of disbelief on her face. 

“Natasha?” The blonde questioned, her voice hoarse from screaming. Natasha smiled in response, and the blonde pulled her into a hug, “Oh, my god! I’ve missed you so much!” Natasha laughed, wiping the tears off of Daphne’s face. “I have to… but, where is everybody?” The ginger asked. 

Daphne sighed, getting up on her feet with a groan, “I don’t know,” she replied, “Someone cast a blinding spell of sorts, and we all got separated. I was trying to protect Nelson here when I got hit with the crucio…” The blonde shivered, remembering the cold feeling. Sighing, Natasha nodded in response. 

She had a feeling that was what the blonde was going to say, “Let’s, uh… Let’s go find everyone.” Natasha stated. However, before they all left, Natasha turned to the youngest member of the trio, “Nelson, can you help Daph walk?” The young girl nodded, allowing Daphne to put some of her weight on the younger female. 

Gripping Peter’s wand in one hand, and the knife in the other, the group set out to find the others. Whenever Natasha would find someone, she would quickly stun them with the wand, and then shove her knife into their neck. More people started to join their group, and before she knew it, she almost had everyone…

Everyone except Hermione. 

Of course, she could also include Tom on that list, but she also knew he was most likely having a duel with Voldemort – see who has the bigger feet kind of deal. Finally, she managed to make her way over to the end of the hall, and what did she know it, Hermione was there.

Hermione AND Bellatrix. 

“Ah, ah, ah!~” Bellatrix taunted, dagger held close to Hermione’s throat. Faintly, she could already see that the woman had already nipped the girl. “Wouldn’t want me to slip, would we?” 

Sharing a look with Blaise and Daphne, Natasha held her hands up in surrender after placing her weapons on the ground. Of course, she still had another knife on her, but what the woman didn’t know didn’t hurt her. “Just let Hermione go…” Natasha reasoned. 

Bellatrix hummed, looking like she was almost going to consider it. 

“Hmm,” The woman licked her cracked lips before a wide smile formed on her lips, “Nope!”

Natasha felt like she was watching in slow motion – arms moving back in slow motion to grab her spare knife. Oh god, would she be able to stop it in time? Her friends all screamed in horror, and yet… did nothing. While Natasha struggled to get her knife out, the woman cackled as blood splattered across her face. Hermione gurgled, eyes panicking as she grabbed at her neck. 

Natasha rushed forward, sliding down on her knees and applying pressure to the wound. “It’s okay, it’s okay… you’re gonna be okay, Hermione!” Natasha whispered frantically, putting as much pressure onto the wound as possible. However, it was no use… By the time Natasha had rushed over there, the girl had already bled out a significant amount of blood. 

Hermione Granger was dead. 

Natasha's hands shook, soaked with her friend’s blood. “No, no, no…” the girl mourned, her lips shaking.

“Aw,” Bellatrix cooed, “Is that half-blood sad because I killed her mudblood crush?” 

Her head snapped up, eyes burning with anger. Standing up, Natasha stalked over to the lady, who danced around as if she was playing a game. Fingers clenching together into a fist, the girl grunted as she punched the woman in the face. Bellatrix giggled, stumbling back. However, Natasha gave the woman no time to defend herself and kicked her down onto the ground. 

She slammed her foot onto the woman’s knee, extracting a scream from the woman’s mouth. One punch and kick after another, Natasha managed to lose herself in her anger. Hermione didn’t deserve to die! She was a good person – someone who deserved to make themselves something in this world. It wasn’t fair! 

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, WASN’T FAIR–

“Natasha!” Blaise grunted, pulling her arms behind her, “Natasha, stop! She’s dead! You beat her to death!” Breathing heavily, Natasha realized her friend was telling the truth. Bellatrix barely looked like a human anymore – more like a pound of flesh. 

“Hermione…” Natasha sobbed quietly, tears streaming down her face in despair. Blaise rubbed her back comfortably and dragged her away from the scene. By the time they had both arrived back to the group, Natasha could see the order beginning to arrive. 

Voldemort and Tom were still going strong – things thrown everything from their path of destruction. The order started ushering the Hogwart students out of the ministry, checking them for injuries. However, before Natasha could leave as well, another player arrived on the battlefield. 

Dumbledore arrived in all of his glory – robes ever so flamboyant. “Tom!” He called out, “And… Tom?” They both turned their attention towards the old man, faces glowing with power and anger. “What in the–?” However, whatever he was going to say was cut off by a spell thrown his way. 

For a man of his age, the man dodged with surprising agility. “Natasha,” Tonks tugged on her arm, trying to get the girl to leave, “Come on… Dumbledore can handle this.”

“It’s not Dumbledore I’m worried about.” The girl muttered in response. Tonks went to go ask her what she meant, but Natasha had already disappeared into the battle. Natasha flicked her hand, sending Voldemort flying into the wall. “Tom, you okay?” Natasha asked, eyeing the man’s torn uniform. 

“Could ask you the same thing.” 

Dumbledore gave the two a look but turned his attention back onto Voldemort. The snake-like man stood up, robes sung in some places. “I killed Bellatrix.” Natasha deadpanned, zero emotions on her face, “Most of this is her blood.”

“What?” Voldemort hissed, rage in his eyes. 

Natasha smirked, and retorted, “Yeah, I beat her to a bloody pulp.” And with that, she slammed her hands down onto the ground - cracks forming on the ground, an endless abyss underneath. Voldemort dodged, floating up above the cracks. His eyes crackled with power, voice booming with rage as he yelled, “KILL THE OLD MAN, LEAVE THE GIRL AND HIM TO ME!” 

The death eaters that weren’t fighting any ministry workers or order members all nodded, beginning their attack on the old man. Magic of all kinds swirled around the group, spells flying left and right. Thinking quickly, Natasha cast layer spell after another, hoping to put some protection between any stray spells. Sharing a look with Tom, Natasha appeared behind Voldemort, allowing the two of them to attack him from each side. 

Spells shot out of Natasha rapidly, never giving the man time to defend himself. Voldemort screamed in fury, magic bursting out of him. Natasha grunted as she flew back, landing on some hard debris. She winced, grabbing at her side in pain. One of her ribs had definitely cracked when she landed. Across from her, she could see that Tom looked shocked — like he hadn’t expected that kind of power from the man. “How are you so strong?” Tom asked, wiping the blood off his forehead. 

The monster's mouth strained all teeth in his smile. He simply chuckled, taking pleasure in knowing something Tom didn’t. Soon enough, his chuckle turned into a full-blown cackle. What was so funny, Natasha didn’t know. However, what she did know was that he was close enough for the girl to get to him. 

She dragged her body across the ground, unsheathing the knife on her thigh. She felt drained, having used too much of her magic. Still, she needed to do something — and quickly. As great as a wizard Dumbledore was, she could see that he was getting overwhelmed. She could tell Tom wanted to jump in to help, but she shook her head; she needed Voldemort’s full attention on Tom. 

Pulling herself off of the ground as quietly as she could, Natasha quickly pounced. Wrapping her legs around the man’s neck, she used her body’s weight and threw the two of them on the ground. Before he could do anything else, Natasha shoved her knife into the man's abdomen. He screamed, eyes wide with pain. She snarled, going in for the second attack. However, before she could do anything, the man disappeared from the scene — black smoke signifying his leave. 

Seeing as their master left, Death Eaters started leaving the scene. Still, ministry workers and order members started rounding up the strays. Natasha winced, wanting to fall down on the ground. However, her plans of laying down were ruined as Dumbledore pointed his wand at Tom threateningly. “How did you get a form?” The old man questioned, beard moving with him. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Natasha interrupted, putting herself between Tom and Dumbledore. “He’s not like him!” 

Dumbledore tilted his head to the side, the tinkle in his eyes gone, “Not like him? He is him, dear girl.” He rumbled, voice gravelly. Natasha shook her head, hands held out in peace. 

“Yes, he is a piece of Voldemort, but he’s not Voldemort. He’s Tom, and for the longest time, he lived in my head. I was a Horcrux.” The girl explained calmly, hoping to get the situation under control. 

Surprisingly, Dumbledore didn’t look surprised about the Horcrux part. She remembered to mark that for later but pushed it away for now. “How does he have corporate form, now?” He asked, lines wrinkling on his forehead. 

Sharing a look with Tom, Natasha explained, “Voldemort took him out of me, and connected him to Voldemort,” she held up a hand to continue, stopping the man from acting, “However, he’s not forced to do anything! If we can tie him to something else, or find a way to make him his own body, then he no longer has that connection to Voldemort.” 

The old man gained a considering look on his face, a calculating look in his eyes. Finally, the man turned his full attention to Tom, an offer on his tongue, “If you agree to tell us Voldemort’s weaknesses, I promise, to the best of my ability, to find a way to make you a body that is completely yours.” 

Tom’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed in suspicion, “And there are no other kicks?” He questioned, wondering what the real deal was. 

“No other kicks, Tom.” 

Humming in consideration, the man held out his hand to make it official. “Natasha?” The brown-haired man gestured, “Would you be the witness and officiate?” 

Sighing, the ginger nodded, coming to stand between the two. Holding out her hand, her palm lit up with a faint light. Her magic strained, exhausted beyond relief. Still, she pushed herself to finish. “Do you, Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, swear by your magic to follow all agreements made between you and Tom Marvolo Riddle? Do you swear to help Tom Marvolo Riddle in the creation of his own body, if the man completes his task of telling all the weaknesses of Voldemort?” 

“I do.” The man gruffed out, hand gripped tightly with Tom’s. 

Natasha turned to Tom, locking eyes with the man, a clear message on her face. 

Do you really want to do this? 

He gave a faint nod, and Natasha continued, “Do you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, swear by your magic to follow all agreements between you and Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore? Do you swear to tell all, and only the truth about the weaknesses of Voldemort? If completed, then you shall get the creation of your own body with the help of Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore.” 

“I do,” Tom replied softly, a certain look on her face. Taking in a deep breath, Natasha finished: 

“So mote be it.” A thin tongue of magic — a light red — fluttered its way from Natasha's hand, winding itself around Tom and Dumbledore’s arms. Almost like red-hot wire, it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Once the spell was over, Natasha stumbled back, almost falling back from exhaustion. However, before she could fall, Tom caught her, lifting her up into his arms. 

“I got you, Nat.” He whispered, adjusting her in his hold. The girl groaned, leaning her head against his chest. It was odd to not hear a heartbeat. Still, she was comforted by his scent. “I’m just gonna rest my eyes for a bit…” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut. 

The Horcrux chuckled, eyes crinkling with his smile. Dumbledore watched the two with a calculating look in his eyes. 

He could definitely use this to his advantage. 

Waking up feeling rested for the first time in forever, Natasha sat up with a yawn. While her body still ached with pain, her mind felt sharper than it had in a while. Her eyes fluttered across the room, lips twitching into a small smile at the sleeping blonde in the corner of her room. Sliding out of her bed as quietly as she could, the ginger tip-toed her way over to her sister. 

Yelena snored, drool dribbling down her chin. Snickering, Natasha poked the girl in the shoulder, startling the girl out of her sleep. Yelena yelped, tumbling out of her chair. “Have a good rest?” Natasha teased, a smirk on her plump lips. 

The blonde gasped, tears filling her eyes, “Natasha!” She sprung off the ground, throwing herself into her sister’s awaiting arms. The blonde shook, arms wound tightly around the older girl. “Natasha!” 

“Hello to you too, сестра.” Her voice wobbled slightly, tears falling down her cheeks as she held her sister slightly. She knew, no matter how much grief and suffering she’d go through, she’d always have her family – Yelena, Sirius, Remus, Severus, and Clint. She’d have her friends and colleagues. And she’d always have Tom. 

Always.