Who's Cat, Who's Mouse? // Frank

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As she walked, the sound of the soles of her expensive leather boots against the cobbled road made the other people in the narrow street look up and then quickly hurry away. Good idea, Bellatrix thought. She was feeling particularly willing to curse whoever irritated her today. Itchy trigger finger, as the muggle filth would call it. Not that Bellatrix knew anything about their filthy sayings or customs. Guns weren't nearly as dangerous as Bellatrix Lestrange on a bad day. Not that she was having one, per say, but it could turn bad very quickly for anyone who didn't scurry away. One or two were brave, nodding their heads at her as she passed. Bellatrix didn't care if it was out of fear or respect - the two should not be mutually exclusive.

They, at least, seemed to know that it was not exceptionally clever to mess with her. There seemed to be one person who clearly did not understand that. Bella wasn't an idiot; she knew when she was being followed. She walked, a sadistic smile turning her lips at the thought of him blindly following her, thinking she didn't know, while all the while she was the one leading. If they were going to play cat and mouse, Bellatrix was adamant to show that she had never been a mouse in her whole life. Snake and mouse, more like - squeezing its prey until it couldn't take air into its own lungs and then swallowing it whole.

She could just Apparate away, get away clean and easy before it got messy, but Bellatrix had never disliked messy. Her bloodlust always did get the better of her. She was going to make sure this idiotic wizard knew he shouldn't mess with Bellatrix Lestrange. What did he think would happen? He'd hand her in to Azkaban? Hah! He could try, and Bella could have some fun. If he was an Auror, even better. The Ministry needed a good scare - maybe a dead Auror on their front steps might do just that.

Rounding a corner, she turned, unsheathing her wand in a flash and sending a curse that would cause an agonizing cut in its victim wherever it hit. Not fatal, just painful. She let out a laugh as cold and cruel as she was herself.

@franklongbottom