Familiar: Chapter 1 (Patreon)

This work has been commissioned by Eric Dettenrieder. Thanks a lot, Eric, and I hope you like it.

Canon Alterations: Characters’ ages adjusted; Harry was born in 1976, Bella in 1963; Harry 'killed' Voldemort in 1981, same as canon; Bella married at 16, right after her OWLs. She’s the youngest Black sister.

*****

In all her life, she had never imagined she would ever feel like this. This feeling of sheer ecstasy and fulfillment that she was experiencing as her lover showered her with his affections in a manner so meticulous, she felt she could wither away and still not feel any pain whatsoever. Her dark, curly hair, slick with sweat, her wet palms clutching his back fiercely as he continued to ravish her, and her full, pouty lips attached to his rough ones – it felt as surreal as it was real.

A loud cry tore its way out of her lips as her lover gave one final shove deep inside her. She could feel her climax tear through her, her insides quivering and squeezing his erection so tightly, all he could do was grunt and endure. The familiar sensation of his hot potent spunk showering her inner walls never failed to send her into a frenzy, and right now was no exception. Shivering in ecstasy, the dark-haired former killer looked into the emerald pools of her soulmate and smiled.

*****

“Ah, dear Bella, come here child. This is Rudolphus Lestrange, your intended.”

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“I take him as my lawfully wedded husband, and I vow to love and cherish him. I will take no steps that will bring him adversity or dishonour. May Mother Magic judge me if I am found unworthy.”

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“Ah Rudolphus... a nice, proper pureblood bride, and one of the Blacks, no less. A bit young, but she will do. You’ve done good.”

“I live to serve, Master,”

“So you do. Take the assignment from Yaxley as your reward,”

“You’re too kind, Master,”

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“Adiuro te voluntati meae, ut voluntati meae adhaereas, et voluntati meae subjugatus maneas. Hoc decerno.”

A wave of calmness swept over the young woman before her eyes shot open. Purple orbs were tinged with a slight ruby tint, and a manic smile marred the once beautiful face.

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She awoke with a loud gasp, her breathing ragged as she inhaled deeply. Her eyes refocused on the cream ceiling as she felt his arms wrap tighter around her. Slowly, she calmed down and turned her head around to look at the peacefully sleeping face of her lover. She could never thank him enough for breaking her out of the haze that had clouded her mind for over a decade. With a tearful smile, she kissed him softly and burrowed her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent that always reminded her of home.

*****

It started back in the summer of 1993. The Minister for Magic had come around for his yearly inspection of the Azkaban prison. She hated the man. He reeked of greed and fear, and it was apparent to anyone with the ability to sense the vibes that the man was nothing more than a cowardly puppet.

She could hear her cousin screaming incoherently, and despite not being able to make out what that idiot was saying, she could hear the word “Hogwarts” being mentioned a couple of times. What was that idiot of a cousin going to do now? Escape the prison and go to school somehow? Yeah right.

Turns out he wasn’t that big of a fool. She had no idea Sirius was an animagus, and as she saw him openly walk out of the long corridor, it was as much of a revelation as it was an obvious conclusion that dementors could not sense him. She chided herself for overlooking that simple fact. Obviously, the Dementors would ignore animals, after all, they were cursed demons who were humans previously, having had their souls sucked and their corpses thrown into the dark abyss of Azkaban prison where the dementors did something no one knew about, until nothing remained apart from a shell of their former selves, forever cursed to wander the plane of existence with no life or motive apart from devouring souls of other humans. A cursed existence, aptly said.

However, her cousin escaping the prison gave the dark-haired witch her lifeline. She thanked her lucky stars that she had undergone the animagus transformation right after graduating from Hogwarts. It was going to save her life now. Swiftly, she concentrated and where laid a frail-looking woman dressed in rags stood a small black cat with shining purple eyes having a reddish tint. Said cat slowly walked out of the prison bars and into the corridor. Looking back, she saw the sorry state of the Azkaban inmates and twisted her whiskers once. Not giving them a second glance, she made her way out of the fortress with a slight limp in her step.

*****

It took considerable efforts for her to somehow cross the raging sea but she managed. It didn’t help that she was a cat animagus. The wards extended a few miles off the shore, and she had to swim until she could reach the end of the wards before she could try to apparate.

It took her three weeks before she managed to reach the northern shore of Scotland. She dared not turn back, her innate fear of getting caught too fresh in her mind, and so were her dark memories of that horrid place. No, she could stay a cat for as long as it took.

Months passed and she stayed a cat, resorting to eating leftover food by the roadside or whatever some kind soul gave her after taking pity on the cat with bruised furs. She hated it, wishing nothing but to sink her canines into their throats and devouring them in an instant, but her self-preservation won out every time, battling her bloodlust into submission. However, all was not dark and dreary in her life. She had managed to bathe properly every night in a pond and was able to find a decent pair of clothes – a black jumper and torn jeans that had been thrown out by some snotty rich girl. She wasn’t complaining, the clothes were in remarkably good condition. It wasn’t much, but for a woman like her, it helped a lot. She would’ve liked to get a proper makeover but couldn’t go anywhere.

The news had broken out long ago regarding the escape of two of the biggest criminals in Wizarding Britain, and it had the entire populace in a frenzy. Even the muggles had been notified of their escape, and she had seen their law enforcement people on patrol, searching for her and Sirius. So she stayed a cat, morphing into a human only in the seclusion of a forest to take a bath in the brooks flowing through, the cold water chilling her to the bone.

Her time on the run might not be fun, but it had done her a lot of good. After almost half a year since her escape and feeding off the roads or stealing or depending on the generosity of strangers, coupled with her rigorous walking for days on end, she could feel her body recovering from the decade-long stay in Azkaban. At least she was doing better than what she would’ve managed if she had stayed locked up.

The black cat was strolling by the roadside one evening, looking for a secluded spot to crash in for the night when her entire body seized up. Her purple eyes widened in fear and shivers rocked her body at the familiar coldness emanating from somewhere in front. Wasting no moment, said cat bolted down the alley, not stopping until the dark feeling dissipated entirely.

Dementors. There were dementors nearby.

She quickly looked around the settlement she found herself in, finding it somewhat familiar but unable to discern in the dark. Spotting an empty shed, she made her way inside and burrowed herself under the haystack. She was out cold in minutes.

The morning rolled around sooner than she would’ve liked. She mewed softly and made her way out of the shed, squinting in the bright light outside. Slowly she walked out and looked around. Her eyes widened when she realized where she was.

Hogsmeade.

*****

The black cat looked on as footsteps formed on the snow. Confused, her eyes trailed the steps, her mind going through the possibilities.

Disillusionment Charm? Must be a powerful witch or wizard to maintain such an impeccable one.

Slowly, she followed the steps until she reached the outskirts of the village. The steps ended right in front of a large rock, and she could hear some heavy breathing. Cautiously, she approached the rock before sitting on her hind legs and looking up at whoever it was.

*****

Harry Potter was seething. He had just overheard the minister and Professor McGonagall conversing with a few others, the topic of discussion being Sirius Black. He knew Black was Voldemort’s most trusted, but the revelation of his true nature had rendered him shellshocked before pure, unadulterated rage consumed him. He didn’t pay anyone any mind and quickly made his way out of the settlement to vent somewhere.

The 17-year-old wizard whipped his wand out and blasted a huge rock into smithereens, before reverting it and blasting it once again, his magic rolling in waves around his body. He was about to blast some more in anger when his eyes landed on a small black dot on the white expanse of snow. Eyes widened, he slowly pulled his cloak off and stuffed it in his moleskin pouch before squatting down to look.

A cat. An ugly black cat. Great. As if he wasn’t angry enough, now a bloody cat was giving him such an odd look.

The cat was looking at the wizard with a gobsmacked expression on her face. Normally it would’ve been funny but Harry was in no mood. Disinterested, he stood back up and made to walk away before frowning. The cat was in a really bad shape, her furs ruffled and bruised, and it looked a bit thin to him. Sighing, he bent down and scooped it up in his arms.

That cat? Well, all she could do was sit there in bewilderment, utterly fascinated by the display of power and magical control while wondering just what the odds were that she would be picked up by Harry Potter of all people.

They made for a strange sight. Normally, Harry Potter would be found in the company of a snowy white pet owl, but here he was, carrying a midnight black cat in his arms. Not willing to endure the constant hustle and bustle of The Three Broomsticks, he made his way to the shady-looking pub on the other side of the village.

The Hog’s Head. Harry clicked his tongue as he read it and walked in.

Making his way over to the counter, he opened his mouth before his eyes widened. The barman looked remarkably like the headmaster.

“Yes yes yes, you’re not the first lad who’s looked at me like that. I am the brother of your headmaster. End of discussion. What do you want?”

Harry frowned. This man was entirely different from the headmaster. Sighing, he placed the cat on the counter. The barman looked down and frowned.

“Pet in bad shape, huh? Yer not an abuser, are ya?”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“What the hell? No way! I just found this one outside the village. Looked unhealthy so I brought it with me!”

The barman looked at him with narrowed eyes before he nodded.

“Going to keep it, are ya?” He asked as he put forward a bowl of milk in front of the cat and made his way to the drinks cupboard. Harry glanced at the cat drinking greedily before shaking his head and moving toward the seat.

“Haven’t decided yet,”

The barman grunted.

“Well, decide soon. I’m not gonna keep that one here. Merlin knows who’ll skewer her at first glance for some cheap kneazle meat,”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know? That’s a kneazle alright. The whiskers are a dead giveaway. I’d suggest you take her in, lad. Not too many left, kneazles,” the barman said, putting a bottle of firewhiskey in front of Harry. Harry quickly placed a few sickles on the counter and sipped his drink. The barman swept the counter and left to tend to other customers, leaving a pensive young wizard in his wake. Said wizard looked over at the hungry cat with his eyebrows furrowed before shaking his head and downing his firewhiskey.

He placed the bottle on the counter and walked over to where the cat was sipping the milk. Said cat was long finished and was yawning softly. With raised eyebrows, he looked over at the barman.

“A little rejuvenating punch mixed with milk. Would leave the little lady tired for a day or two, but will fix most of the injuries. Helpful with goats apparently,” he gestured with his head, and Harry looked to see a few goats tied in the corner. Not willing to ask any further, he nodded and scooped the cat up in his arms. Said cat buried its head in his chest, snuggling up to him and Harry sighed. With a final nod to the barman, Harry Potter walked out of The Hog’s Head and started trekking back to Hogwarts.

*****

Purple eyes slowly opened, and then abruptly closed. A sharp hiss tore its way out of the cat’s mouth as blinding light invaded her vision with all the force of a Bombarda. A chuckle sounded and the cat opened her eyes once again. Emerald green orbs greeted her, and she cocked her head to the side in bemusement, wondering just who this person was. Slowly the memory of what had happened came crashing down on her, and she blanched.

This was Harry Potter. Harry Bloody Potter. And he had taken her in. She could recall him bringing her inside that dingy pub and feeding her that delicious milk. Oh, she could still taste the flavor on her lips. Promptly she swiped her tongue over her teeth. However, she realized she could recall nothing since then. What had happened? Slight panic was starting to set in, and it must have been reflected in her demeanor as the wizard in question quickly scooped her up in his arms.

“There there, no need to panic, you’re completely safe with me,”

‘Yeah right, as if I’d ever be safe with the one who did away with my master,’

It had taken her over a decade as she observed her dark mark slowly fade away over the years until it was barely visible to the naked eye. Whatever remained of her master was barely clinging to life. Hell, deep down she doubted he even lived, at least if the faded mark was anything to go by. She didn’t understand the intricate magic that had been woven into that mark, but if she had to guess, only the link connecting everyone bearing the dark mark remained, with the lynchpin long gone.

She shook her head and refocused on the emerald-eyed wizard who was holding her carefully.

“You were really messed up, girl, but I’m glad you’re alright. The barman really knows his stuff, he said you’d be perfectly healthy in a day or two, and see, it’s been only over a day and you’re looking much better,”

She stared at him. Blinked. And stared.

Over a day. This boy had had her for more than 24 hours. Did he know who she was? After all, all it would take is one spell and he would know just who he was holding in his arms. Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lord’s most special!

But no! If he did, he wouldn’t be acting the way he was doing right then. She calmed down slowly.

She could use this. This brat had killed her master. He had to die. But not right now. Everyone would’ve probably seen him carry a cat, and if he died so soon, people would surely suspect the cat, especially if she disappeared right after the act. And she had to disappear after killing him, otherwise, she would certainly be busted during the investigation that would be sure to follow. No. She would bide her time. She could exercise patience. She had survived Azkaban. She could do this. All she had to do was act like a perfect little pet until she could see the coast being clear.

“Wow, you’re thinking too deeply, I guess what they say about kneazles is right, you guys are surely intelligent,” Harry remarked, softly caressing her back and scratching her under her chin, and she purred.

“You like it, huh?” He chuckled before stroking her chin softly. She snuggled up to him, the feeling was so good. Never had anyone treated her this way, and being a cat made everything extra sensitive.

“Well, now that you’re okay, I guess you can be on your way,” he muttered before he placed her right by the door. Only then did she look around. This room was different. She didn’t know a room like this existed at Hogwarts. But then, the castle had many secrets.

She looked up at him and cocked her head. Harry chuckled.

“Don’t wanna go, huh?” He asked, scooping her back up in his arms. She mewled.

“To be honest,” he began, “I was hoping you’d stay, I wouldn’t mind taking you in. Would you like to stay with me?”

Harry looked down and he could swear he saw the cat nod with a smirk. He shook his head. A smirking cat. He surely was getting drowsy. It was kinda late too. The curfew would begin in half an hour.

“Alright, I’ve done this once before. I’ve a familiar, my owl Hedwig. Never thought I’d do it again, you ready?”

Bellatrix was hesitating now. She was not sure what would happen now. There had never been a recorded case of doing the familiar-bonding ritual with an animagus, which made this uncharted territory. But absconding now would put a dent in her plans. She had to kill Potter, and the best way was to stay by his side all the time. Only then would she be able to take her merry time dragging her revenge as long as she wanted. A duel was taking place inside her mind before her vengeful side won. Putting all her concerns aside, she looked up at him and blinked. Harry smiled.

He walked forward and placed her on the pedestal.

‘Where did that come from?’

However, she didn’t have time to think about that as she felt him take her paw and make a small cut. She saw him do the same one his left palm before he brought them together until the wounds were pressed together. Their blood mixed and she heard him start chanting the familiar Latin words.

“Te in familiarem accipio, comitem et socium vitae, me serviturum et tuendum, adiuvandum me in omnibus periculis opponam. Vinculum nostrum perennet in aeternum.”

Emerald and purple glow emanated from their joined hands, slowly rising above them and encasing the room in a mighty aurora. Suddenly, a loud blast echoed throughout the room, and Harry screamed. The cat jumped in alarm before she too let out a loud screech as a blinding swirl of colors exploded right in the center of the Room of Requirement.

Twin thuds sounded, and as the swirl of colors faded, the unconscious bodies of Harry Potter and Bellatrix Lestrange, in her human form, became visible.

Outside the room, everything stilled.

*****

To be continued...