The Black Chronicles

The Black Chronicles: Bellatrix

    Darkness.

    It’s always dark here, and it’s never quiet. You can always hear the screaming of the prisoners as their guards come to close and make them relive their worst nightmares.

    They, of course, don’t bother me. I’ve been here too long, screamed till I was hoarse, cried till nothing was left.

    Thirteen long years I’ve sat here in this cell in Azkaban. Thirteen damn long years. Condemned years, years I can’t get back. Years I could have used very well. But I alone remain faithful to Him.

    My husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, he died two years into our sentence. He was weak. In his death, I found strength, I found myself again. I was Bellatrix Black again once more. When I took Rodolphus’ name, I think I lost the part of me that was...compassionate. Yes. Compassionate. The part of me that made me hold Narcissa as she cried, comfort Regulus when Sirius hit him, play dolls with Andromeda when we were children, and love Sirius.

    But. . . I know I’m still ruthless. That will never change. I have no morals, I’d love nothing more than to be back with my Master. . . killing, cursing. I was meant for that life.

    I remember, when Regulus showed up at Narcissa’s one night. He’d gotten the Mark, and thought it was fun. Narcissa cried for him that night. I just shook my head and knew he would die. He was an idiot. He had all the right ideas, but none of the wit, strength and endurance. It struck me then, just how much unlike Sirius Regulus was. It was hard to see that they were brothers. Regulus died soon after that night. I cried at the funeral...but all the while knowing he was an idiot for getting caught up in the first place.

    Sirius. . . I did love him. Only person I really did love. More than I probably should of, but the Blacks were not only known for their pure blood, power and wealth, but incest played a big part in that too. Disgusting, you might think. But never mind what you think. Your all probably nasty, filthy Muggles anyway.

    Back to Sirius. I know he’s in Azkaban, but I’m not sure why. I’ve seen him on the days we’re allowed to wander the courtyard. I plan to speak to him next time I see him. I’ve not spoken to him since we were fifteen. I never talked to him in the thirteen years I’ve been here in Azkaban because of two reasons. One, the more logical one, he was being kept in the secure area until recently. Two, I hated him. As much as I loved him, I hated him too. He had left us when he was sixteen. Left us to rot in that ancient house.

    The next day, in the courtyard, Sirius was sitting on a bench, thin and shivering in the rags that we were issued. I walked over to him and stood in front of him till he looked at me.

    “Bellatrix.” he said, watching me with those haunted eyes.

    I smiled slightly; not a pretty sight anymore, I’m sure. “Sirius. I’ve missed you.”

    Sirius laughed, a bark, like a dogs. It was amazing he could still laugh at all. “Sure, Bella, I’m sure you have. What are you in for?” He stretched his arms wide, cracking his back.

    “Torturing the Longbottoms, working for the Dark Lord, torture.” I shrugged. “How about you?”

    Sirius’ face clouded, he looked horribly sad and I had to strongly resist to curl up in his arms and kiss him. It was really hard.

    “I was accused of betraying the Potters and killing Peter Pettigrew.”

    I watched him struggle with his inner demons. “You’d never do that to the Potters!”

    “And Peter is alive. An Animagus, but alive.”

    “Oh, is he?”

    Sirius nodded, and we lapsed into silence.

    They rang the bell, symbolizing time to go back in. Sirius stood up and tilted my face, and kissed me on lips, softly. For a moment, I was fifteen again, kissing in a closet. Then he pulled away.

    “Goodbye Bellatrix.” he whispered. It sounded so. . . final.

    A few days later, he escaped. The first in history. I knew why, and who he hunted but didn’t tell anyone. I wished him luck every time I stare outside my barred window at to the moon shining.

    I know he will succeed. So will I. I will rejoin my Master.

    Soon. I’m just waiting for the...opportune moment. Bidding my time.