It had only been twenty-four hours and already Nymphadora knew her aunt was hopeless. Her mind was so far gone that the second she realized she was Andromeda's daughter she became a feral animal. Whenever the imperius was removed, she would immediately attack.

Nymphadora kinda understood why Barty Crouch Senior had to keep his son under the imperius for over a decade. Azkaban utterly destroyed most people. Bellatrix was no exception. If she was ever going to be anything other than a raging weapon devoted to Voldemort, then she would need some major therapy and rehab.

Well, that would be the healthy thing to do. Nymphadora was going more for something along the lines of magical behavioral reconditioning, mixed with some memory alterations. If she didn't remember Azkaban, could she still suffer from it?

First things first, Bellatrix's skeleton-like body needed a little bit of rejuvenation.

This was how they found themselves back in the ritual room, both nude, and with the final ingredient for the ritual hogtied in the corner of the room, screaming shrilly into a gag. Dolores Umbridge was not happy to be ending her life as a ritual ingredient.

Nymphadora needed just one teeny tiny human sacrifice for the ritual she wanted to perform. It would give both her and Bellatrix a small boost in power along with a burst of life force. This wouldn't do much for Nymphadora, but for Bellatrix it would work wonders.

Nymphadora pointed her wand at her shrieking captive and unleashed a wave of force that crushed her into the stone wall. She crumpled to the floor, silent. Nymphadora levitated the dumpy form into the ritual circle and turned back to her imperius-silenced auntie, satisfied.

"Sorry about the toad, auntie," she apologized, "You would not believe what a cunt she was to me while I was working at the ministry. Not to mention what she would've done in the future. I'm fucked up, but I'm not Dolores Umbridge levels of fucked up. This bitch has gotta go!" she exclaimed vehemently.

Nymphadora shook her head. It looked like a lot of Tonks' anger at the pink toad had carried over after their fusion. She considered it justice served. The woman was practically a Death Eater. It wasn't even that difficult to nab her.

She only had to morph into good old Cornelius and show up at lunch, calling her out for an impromptu meeting. One more imperius, and they were quickly on their way back to Grimmauld place. Nymphadora was quite happy that minimal effort was required. It felt poetic that Umbridge's end was so lackadaisical. It took less effort than going to the market.

Nymphadora could confirm that the Ministry, much like Hogwarts, had no passive defenses against shapeshifters. What morons. Their stupidity worked out in her favour, at least. She didn't mind idiots so long as they benefited her. The second they got in her way...

And that's why Dolores was here. So long as she was in the Ministry, people like Nymphadora would have a very rough life. Muggleborn registration? Please. Ted Tonks had more magic in one finger than a pureblood like Umbridge had in her entire body. It was laughable.

Nymphadora commanded Bellatrix to stand at the opposite side of the ritual circle and they began chanting in tandem over. Umbridge exploded into a deluge of blood that was contained within the circle. Nymphadora would have rather died than get bits of Umbridge all over her.

The blood drained into the floor, leaving behind nothing but a hazy red mist. After it hung still in the air for a moment, it shot towards the two women. It was absorbed into their bodies slowly, a few particles at a time.

Their bodies were hot and sweaty. That was the extent of Nymphadora's reaction. Bellatrix's was a little more extreme. Her entire body bucked and heaved, falling to the ground. Black, chunky impurities oozed out from her pores while her body slowly filled out, regaining her lithe muscles.

Soon enough, a filthy Bellatrix Lestrange lay on the floor, exhausted. She looked twenty years younger and could have been mistaken for Nymphadora's sister. The ritual was a success.

That solved the problem of her body. Now, she needed to work on her mind. Azkaban had rendered her occlumency barriers into confetti and what was left behind them barely needed to be mentioned.

The original brilliant dark witch was long gone. Nymphadora wanted to see what she could rebuild from the ashes.

After cleaning up from the messy ritual, the women situated themselves in Bellatrix's old bedroom. She hadn't lived there since she was a Hogwart's student...

"Legilimens," Nymphadora invaded her aunt's mind. It wasn't hard to get in, but it was nearly incomprehensible once she was in there. Dark, shadowy, and full of pain. There was one big surprise in Bellatrix's memories that stood out like a shining star. It was her one positive memory that handed faded. The birth of her daughter, Delphini.

It seems that in this timeline, Bellatrix had given birth to the Dark Lord's child at the end of the first war, not the second. Nymphadora would have to track down her new favourite cousin. She was sure two metamorphs could get up to an awful lot of mischief together.

First, she needed to prune away the damaged parts of her aunt's mind. Many of her memories were truly unrecoverable and the remnants caused her nothing but pain.

"Obliviate," she frowned. She needed to cut away over half of her life to uncover even a sliver of her old personality.

"Leglilimens... Obliviate... Legilimens..." It went on and on for a while. Eventually, Nymphadora had managed to unearth enough old memories to vaguely resemble a functional person.

"The Dark Lord has such pretty eyes..."

Nymphadora was worried she might have gone just a bit too far.

Bellatrix was rolling around on the bed, absentmindedly twirling her hair, "My Lord said he was soon going to start teaching me, personally. Have you seen him? He's ever so handsome. I wish the Dark Lord would whisk me away on a flying carpet..."

She sounded like a damn air-head. Was this Bellatrix Lestrange before Voldemort got his hooks in her? A brief legilimency probe proved that, no, it was not. Nymphadora had fried her brain just a little.

Oh, well. She might be more fun like this. She didn't necessarily need her to be a fighter. She only needed for her to not fight for Voldemort. A little bit of brain damage was perfectly acceptable. Yep. Yep.

Besides, life was a constant learning process. All of her failures were great data if she ever needed to brainwash a bitch again in the future. She had a feeling Narcissa would come to her willingly, but you never know...

Bellatrix was dead sexy now, at least. Sexy and very vulnerable. Hopefully, she'd be open to new opportunities.

Nymphadora worked through another full hour of careful legilimency, adding some false memories and cutting out corrupted ones. It was exhausting work, but by the time she was done, Bellatrix Lestrange was truly gone from this world.

Even the Dark Mark on her wrist changed. Instead of a coiled serpent exiting the mouth of a skull, it was the Black family's Coat of Arms surrounded by twining black chains. It signified that she truly belonged back with her maiden house, with her new Mistress. The Dark Lord held no more sway over her.

Nymphadora took one last peak into her mind to ensure everything was working smoothly.

Bella Black was a happy girl, who was glad that she could get away from her awful marriage to her wayward husband, Tom Riddle. He disappeared shortly after she gave birth to our daughter, and, in her grief, she fell asleep for who knows how long. 

Her niece, Nymphadora, told her that her husband kept her in stasis for the past fifteen years, like a doll on a shelf. That bastard! Her daughter was somewhere out there in the world, all alone, and she would find her!

Oh, her niece. How she loved her sweet, beautiful niece. She would do anything to repay her for waking her from her forced slumber, even going so far as to heal her mind and body. If Nymphadora ever wanted anything from her dearest aunt, she had only to ask...

Once again, Nymphadora might have gone a smidgen too far. Bella hadn't been rewired to become her slave. Not exactly. She was just so overwhelmingly grateful to her for providing her with her amazing life that she would do literally anything to repay her.

It would be fine. A lesbian experience or two was good for every woman. She was just helping her auntie grow as a person!

Nymphadora had a bit of a fetish for stealing women from their husbands. She didn't want to bring anything to do with the Lestrange brothers into the bedroom, but role-playing fucking the Dark Lord's wife? She was into that shit.

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A/N: R18+ content begins next chapter. Read all available chapters in advance with faster releases over on my Pat.reon for as little as $3, along with access to my other works and exclusive R18+ content.