A poem based on the character Bellatrix Black. Excerpt: There was nothing there but a mist so opaque it had penetrated all life. And she was now, nothing more than a breathing shell, an imitation of something that was.

One-shot on what Bellatrix could have been contemplating during her last moments. Excerpt: So she cackled, they would never understand, would they? She was not born deranged, no—she merely sought for his lips to be pressed against hers; but then those lips had turned cold, and skin so frighteningly pale—his life had vanished before her eyes, and her Lord—was he still her Lord?

Neville is in a dilemma. Excerpt: And although he is aware that an infatuation with her cerise lips can bring about his death, when nightfall ensues, he tries to resist the enticements his subconscious forces on him… But yet, when morning hits, he feels unclean and guilty as he awakens to find that his nightly clothes are...wet, and that he has once more lost to his heart.

A short drabble on Narcissa Malfoy. Excerpt: They had always said she had been ice, a block of never-melting ice. But they were wrong, for within she was thawing, breaking apart, and she was afraid soon she would turn into a shapeless form, into liquid.

Two seemingly different souls collide, causing a most unexpected unison that none— even them —had expected to form. A story of adventure, redemption, and most of all of love. Harry/Bellatrix. Set during Half-Blood Prince and onwards. AU. Warning: Could go kind of darkish. Update: Ratings changed to M! Also editing some chapters on whim (no major changes in plot).

Excerpt: Their eyes then simply stared at each other, one lost in the stunning grey and the other in stunning green. They had revealed parts of their souls to each other – to their foe. They had succumbed to defeat, and so why should it matter if they further dropped to their knees? (One-Shot. Narcissa/Harry. Warning: Mature Subject Matter)