Bellatrix Lestrange (nee Black) did not make mistakes. She had danced at the top of her year with no effort, she was the foremost of the Dark Lord’s servants, even her name was enough to inspire fear - fear they should have. A woman with her blood and her capabilities had neither the time nor the inclination for such time wasting.
But standing in the corn maze intended for children and blasting a skeleton backward into another wall of corn - causing both skeleton and corn to explode, then slowly start reforming courtesy of the magic that was currently infuriating her - Bellatrix was confronted with the reality that she had indeed made a mistake.
It was those insufferable children’s fault. They couldn’t have been older than five or six, in awe of the jewel tones woven into the bottom of her black cloak. Unfortunately, at a festival like this cursing out their tongues would have been ill advised. Realizing they were mortally terrified of the skeletons, she informed them she was going to fetch one to rip out their tongues for her and stepped into the maze - with the full intention of immediately stepping back out. She hadn’t realized the childrens maze had been enchanted to prevent exactly that - though if she weren’t currently stuck in it she supposed she would approve of it as a terror tactic for younger ones. The Dark Lord’s servants could perhaps make use of something like this one day.
The lesson she learned from this and her true mistake, she decided, was not ripping away their tongues herself - witnesses be damned.
Hearing a voice behind her, she drew upon all the patience she had with her. If this was someone working the maze angry at her more aggressive way of handling the skeleton problem, she would finally get to remove a tongue. “Unless you are like the skeleton and have the ability to reform, I would refrain from bothering me.”
The skeleton, regaining its limbs, began to shamble towards them with a clattering of teeth only to meet the same treatment from her wand.
