Bellatrix departed from Grimmauld Place feeling rather satisfied, albeit bruised and quite sore. She spotted a man sitting across the road, on the bench on which the cake had sat. Thinking that it might be Harry, she made her way across the street. The man did not look like Harry, but he was eating from a takeout container stamped with the name of a restaurant she and Harry had visited a number of times.
"So, you think that is my favorite restaurant, eh?" Bellatrix smirked, leering at him as she self-consciously felt at her face to make sure she was no longer bleeding. "What an inattentive husband you are."
The man who apparently was Harry grinned. "Well, it's your favorite restaurant that's close enough to here to bother to walk to, anyway." Noticing bruises on her forehead and cheek, Harry grew concerned. "What happened to your face?"
"I was teaching your father a lesson," Bellatrix told Harry simply.
Harry arched an eyebrow. "Seeing as you are sporting a pair of black eyes, it rather looks like he may have taught you a lesson."
"At least I am still walking," Bellatrix said mischievously.
Harry stared at his wife silently for several seconds, then said, "Well, I'm impressed."
"I hate to knock your father off of that pedestal you put him on, Harry," Bellatrix smirked, "but compared to you, James Potter was just a stroll through the park."
Harry shook his head in amazement, staring for a long, silent moment into his wife's violent eyes. "Actually, Bellatrix, before I was born, my parents dueled Tom Riddle and survived, three separate times."
"Which means that the James Potter I so soundly beat tonight," Bellatrix realized, eyes wide, "has twice as much experience as your father did when he dueled toe to toe with the Devil himself."
"No surprise to me," Harry said, curling a lustrous ebon lock of Bellatrix's hair around his right index finger while stroking her left check, "After all, you are-singularly-the most talented, most powerful, most beautiful witch I've ever known."
.....
Harry's next opportunity to terrorize Death Eaters arrived a few days later, taking a slightly different twist than previous incidents, during which he had satisfied himself with frightening and then attacking groups of Death Eaters prior to allowing most of the perpetrators to escape to tell the tale to Tom. The enhanced opportunity came because of two factors. The first was that Bellatrix and Harry had developed a spell that would allow the ghost of Harry Ashworth to terrorize Death Eaters briefly without Harry's personal involvement. The second factor had more to do with the Death Eaters' specific task for the night.
As Harry crept through Diagon Alley that late evening, he happened upon a group of Death Eaters gathering in a very small street between a small pub and a secondhand clothing store. Harry gripped his wand and prepared to have his "ghost" appear some distance down the street and then walk slowly up the street toward the gathered Death Eaters.
However, Harry paused when he realized that this group was not planning the typical arson and sabotage campaign throughout Diagon Alley that had become the most monotonous play in the Death Eaters' book. Apparently, these Death Eaters intended to go elsewhere, and were currently waiting for more comrades. With a confident smirk, Harry decided that he would join up.
With a quick wave of his wand, Harry caused a Death Eater mask to materialize in front of his face. A few other quick spells served to disguise Harry and his person further. He emerged from the shadows and took up a position on the group's outskirts.
A few of the Death Eaters looked at Harry for a brief moment, grunting very quietly as if in greeting or even recognition. Harry grunted back and then struck a diffident pose, leaning against a wall. The Death Eater in command was nobody that Harry could recognize, at least not with the mask and robes, though Harry was able to discern that it was a wizard-a wizard very preoccupied with his timepiece and with watching the street for unwanted arrivals.
Eventually, the leader decided that they were ready to begin. He motioned for all the Death Eaters in the group to move inward so they could hear him speak quietly. "The Dark Lord wants us to capture Percy Weasley," he said in a low, gravelly voice. "It is imperative that we capture him without leaving obvious physical marks."
"What about his wife?" another Death Eater asked, obviously disappointed that the operation involved something as complicated as keeping the target alive.
"Fair game," rumbled the leader, "so long as she stays alive."
Harry wondered whether Percy had married Penelope or someone else this time around. In so doing, he almost missed the travelling instructions, though he was able to catch on just in time for their departure.
One disapparition pop later, Harry found himself in the basement of Percy Weasley's building. He and the Death Eaters made for the lift swiftly and piled in. "No more magic without my permission until we have him in sight," commanded one of the Death Eaters. Harry supposed he was the second in command-or perhaps wanted to be first in command.