Walls and Water are Nothing Compared to Memories Relived

In front of Bellatrix Lestrange stood a metal door, worn and rusted with age. Reaching her hand out, she opened it. Beyond stood the Dark Lord, beckoning her to come to him. Without hesitating, she stepped forward.

As she passed through the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her, and the Dark Lord disappeared abruptly, like a light going off. Darkness engulfed her and she fell and fell and fell...

Bellatrix shot up in her cot, inhaling quickly. Had she hit the ground? Through the metal bars that surrounded her cell, a dementor stared at her, feeding. A bad dream, then. Right? Did it mattered? This was Azkaban; the nightmares didn't end when you woke up.

The dementor paused only for a moment before gliding on to the cell to Bellatrix's left, where it feed on Rabastan's energy, causing him to moan. Bellatrix flinched before following the dementor's path with hollowed eyes. It, or another like it, would be back all too soon. Beyond Rabastan were two empty cells where Bartemius Crouch Jr. and Sirius Black had once been imprisoned. Barty--he died, didn't he? Yes, she could remember that; he was dead. Lucky him. Barty had seemed so... different...in the end. Sirius...he had escaped...somehow. When was that? Not long ago...or was it? Days, months, years...? Bellatrix strained to place an exact date, but failed.

To Bellatrix's right was her husband Rodolphus, who was currently asleep, jerking every few moments in response to one bad dream or another. Beyond him resided Antonin Dolohov, who was muttering to himself as he lay in a sort of stupor, neither awake nor asleep. He merely lay on his cot, unmoving. His eyes were open, but unfocused. Could one sleep with their eyes open? Dream without sleeping? Wasn't that the cold heart of Azkaban? Further down was Rookwood, who gave a sort of whimper as a dementor glided to his cell and stopped for a moment, inspiring nightmares. Beyond this, Bellatrix knew nothing; her entire world consisted of one hallway in Azkaban.

The dementor continued on to Dolohov, who fell silent at its approach. As it proceeded on to Rodolphus, who let out a shriek of terror, Dolohov began muttering once more. Bellatrix strained to hear his words. They were low, but Bellatrix could make them out. "Damn you, Wormtail...damn you..." Bellatrix's eye lashes flickered, and she gave a tiny nod of agreement. And then the dementor was in front of her.

Bellatrix was in the graveyard, sipping butterbeer with Rodolphus, Rabastan, Barty Jr., and several other Death Eaters. There was laughter as they recounted their last expedition, where they strolled through a Muggle neighborhood, launching the Cruciatus Curse every time they saw a Muggle.

Then Bellatrix felt her arm go numb, and the Dark Mark disappeared suddenly and completely, in a way it had never done before. She stared at it, but it did not reappear. And she knew, as all Death Eaters knew at that moment, that the Dark Lord had fallen.

Bellatrix stumbled backwards, and Rodolphus caught her. Already the air seemed filled with whispers, whispers of the fall of the Dark Lord. They hung in the air as the days passed, no matter where Bellatrix turned. The Dark Lord had been defeated by a mere child.

"No!" Bellatrix screamed, automatically clutching her left arm. She rocked back and forth as the dementor passed and the memory faded. She removed her hand, and briefly saw the Dark Mark there once more. But then it was gone, as it was always gone when she thought that she saw it.

She supposed it was a new trick of the dementors, where she would think she would see the Dark Mark on her arm. Then she would almost dare to hope, only to have it disappear again. A part of Bellatrix's mind wondered if this was the beginning of insanity, if she had finally broke completely. The only reason she had lasted this long was because she had been so utterly confident in the Dark Lord's immortality. After all, she had witnessed and helped prepare many of the rituals that he had been through. One of them must have worked. As long as just one of them had worked, they would survive. One of them had to have worked...

Bellatrix could sometimes briefly recall the exhilaration and excitement that had accompanied these rituals, but the dementors had long since sucked out any happy memory she had. Still, she could faintly remember the idea behind these rituals, and that had been enough to keep her sane. Sometimes, when things got really bad, she murmured "the Dark Lord lives" in a repetitive fashion, difficult though it was to attach a meaning to the words. They persisted in being a small flame of hope, not able to stop dementors, but sufficient to keep her sane. Or close enough.

Another dementor passed Bellatrix's cell, and another memory began to play in her head.

Bellatrix was six years old, teetering on the branches of an apple tree. She reached up to grab one of the shiny, red apples when the branch shook in the wind. Bellatrix's foot slipped and she fell backwards. There was a thud as she hit the ground and a sharp pain in her left arm, upon which she had landed. She looked at it, twisted in an unnatural way, and realized that it was broken.

The dementor passed, but Bellatrix lingered in the memory. There was still even a sharp pain in her arm. Glancing at it, she saw that the Dark Mark burned black on it. She looked away angrily, realizing that it was another illusion, another trick of the mind.

The dull throbbing in her arm continued. She looked at it again. The Dark Mark was still there. She blinked, but it remained. Around her, Death Eaters seemed to be stirring, and the unusual sound of muttering welled up in the prison.

"Bellatrix?" Rodolphus called hoarsely to her, speaking for the first time in what must have been months. His voice sounded as though he was unfamiliar with the use of it.

"I see it too!" Rabastan breathed quietly.

"It's back," Bellatrix whispered, almost not daring to believe it. But how could she not? And hadn't she always, in some small corner of her mind? The Dark Mark was there. Solid. Real. And it was burning, as it did when the Dark Lord called them. "It's back, and he's summoning us!"

"The Dark Lord will rise again," Rabastan quoted. "You were right, Bellatrix."

"You remember?" she asked, surprised.

"How can I forget?" Rabastan replied with a weary smile, first pointing to the dementor guards and then tapping his head. "I hear his pleas to his father every time they pass." His words rang hollowly in the empty cell beside him.

"We have waited," Rodolphus broke in.

"He has risen again," Bellatrix finished. "And now he will come for us." She straightened her back, sitting up rather than slouching.

"When?" Rabastan asked.

"Soon," Bellatrix promised. "After thirteen...yes, it has been thirteen, hasn't it?" Bellatrix barred her teeth at the dementors, pleased that the number had came to her. "After thirteen long years, we can wait a few more months." Bellatrix stared at her arm again, and then let out a shriek of laughter. It was a twisted sort of laughter, terrible to hear. But laughter it was. The dementors turned towards her, and Rabastan and Rodolphus stared. Laughter was not something often heard in the cells of Azkaban.

"What is it, Bella?" Rodolphus asked.

"It won't go away!" Bellatrix shrieked, pointing at her arm. More laughter escaped her. "They can't take it! They take our memories, but it will not fade. The Dark Mark will remain, and we will not forget."

As Bellatrix counted the days and months to come, the dementors passed her cell innumerable times. But always she would stare at the Dark Mark on her arm, and would remember, and the horrors of the dementors would pass.

And, so, slowly Bellatrix and the others improved, their minds growing stronger. Acceptance of fate gave way to a sort or restlessness. The atmosphere altered over the following months. There was always a muttering, but of a different sort, that flitted through the air. Movement was more common. And once, Bellatrix had sworn that Rabastan had chuckled when the dementors were not near him.

The dementors, for there, part, did not seem to change much. What did they care how their prisoners acted, provided they remained prisoners? Excitement merely meant more food for the them.

Thus, several months after the Dark Mark became permanent, Bellatrix was found not staring off into space, but rather watching the dementors intensely, as if looking for a sign. Rabastan seemed jittery, and was constantly looking around his cell. Rodolphus had taken to pacing. Dolohov and Rookwood occasionally stirred and would speak a few words to each other, though they still retained a deadened look in their eyes.

Bellatrix's eyes shifted to the shadows as a rat ran into her cell. Rats were hardly uncommon in Azkaban, but Bellatrix noticed everything these days.

The rat peered up at her and then seemed to scan the area outside the cell as if looking to see if any dementors were passing. Bellatrix only had time to briefly realize that this was odd before the rat gave an affirmative squeak and transformed abruptly into a man.

Bellatrix stood up very quickly, understandably startled. The man looked up at her, and she recognized him to be Wormtail. A sort of flame ignited in her mind, and her face filled with rage.

"You!" she snarled, and launched herself at him.

"Wait!" Wormtail squeaked as Bellatrix attacked him, scratching him with her grimy nails. But his pleas were not heard over Bellatrix's incendiary accusations.

"You traitorous little rat! How dare you- how dare you betray the Dark Lord! Die, you double-crossing venomous sneak!"

"Wait!" Wormtail pled, trying to fend Bellatrix off with his silver hand. "The Dark Lord sent me!" Something in the sentence reached Bellatrix, and she paused her attacks, which gave Wormtail time to scurry back.

"What?" Bellatrix asked.

"Here," Wormtail said, and he hastily shoved a wand to Bellatrix. She gasped as she realized that it was her wand. All at once, it seemed that her magic was returning. Something like static electricity tingled throughout her body, and she wiggled her toes.

She narrowed her eyes at Wormtail. "Speak," she ordered, pointing her wand at him. Wormtail gulped and his eyes darted around the cell.

"The Dark Lord sent me," he stammered. "He told me to find Bellatrix Lestrange. He said that you are to help the Death Eaters entombed to escape." He paused, and then added as an afterthought. "Please don't kill me."

"Then the Dark Lord has really risen once more?" Bellatrix pressed eagerly. The strange emotion of happiness shone on her face.

"Yes," Wormtail said, looking nervously at the wand pointed at him. "I helped."

Bellatrix looked at him disdainfully. "It took you long enough to help our master." She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to hex him anyway, but ultimately decided against it. Wormtail was visibly relieved when Bellatrix lowered her wand.

"Take these," Wormtail said, offering Bellatrix nine other wands. "I stole them back from the Wand Safe, where the dementors keep prisoners' wands. I have to go before the dementors return." He cast a nervous look over his shoulder. "There are anti-Apparating spells for a mile all around this place. In the harbor there is a boat. I will meet your there. Free the rest." Then without another word and only a terrified look at an approaching dementor, Wormtail transformed back into a rat and sped out of the cell.

Bellatrix was left holding nine wands in her left hand and her own in her right. With a wicked smile, she pointed her wand at the door and said clearly, "Reducto!" As the spell went off, every head in the area turned to look at her. Stepping nimbly through the ruin of the door, Bellatrix tossed Rabastan his wand and then handed Rodolphus his through the bars. They stared at them in amazement, but then two more Reductor Curses were cast, and the brothers were free.

Rabastan and Rodolphus staggered out of their cells and joined Bellatrix. "We're free," Rabastan muttered quietly, in disbelief. He clutched his wand tightly in one hand, running the fingers of his other hand over it.

"Not yet," Rodolphus corrected, and gestured towards the dementors that were coming towards them.

"No matter," Bellatrix said. The Dark Lord has risen again, Bellatrix thought, and raised her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

From the tip of Bellatrix's wand her Patronus burst forth, taking the form of a Crup, which began to charge down the dementors.

"Corporeal," Rabastan whistled, awestruck. "Must have been a strong memory."

"The Dark Lord has risen again," Bellatrix replied haughtily.

Rodolphus and Rabastan nodded and raised their wands. "We are getting off this God forsaken island," Rodolphus said before chanting, "Expecto Patronum!" His Patronus, a Graphorn, appeared beside Bellatrix's and began to skewer a dementor with its horns.

"Bars no longer surround us. Expecto Patronum!" Rabastan shouted, and his Patronus joined the others. Bellatrix sniggered as she caught sight of Rabastan's Patronus, which had taken the form of a skittish hare. Still, it was chasing dementors like the best of them.

"Dolohov! Rookwood!" Bellatrix called, walking to their cells. At first they only gaped blankly at her, but then she pressed their wands into their hands, and their eyes started to focus again. They widened as their whole face contorted as if the oppression of Azkaban was slipping away like silt through a sieve.

"Expecto Patronum!" Dolohov muttered from within his cell, and a Patronus shaped like an Ashwinder joined the fray.

"Bella," Rabastan said nervously. "We have a problem."

Bellatrix glanced down the hall, and her heart sank. More and more dementors were appearing from every side; the Death Eaters would soon be overcome.

"What do we do?" Rookwood asked, having just blasted himself out of his cell. "We can't fight them all."

"Wait," Bellatrix said, and stepped forward. The dementors peered at her. Then she spoke loudly and clearly. "Voldemort." With a confident stance, she watched the result.

With an effect more powerful than any spell, a sort of shiver ran through the legions of dementors. Several Death Eaters gave a shudder as well. Yet it was as much a shudder of excitement as it was fear.

"Voldemort has risen again," Bellatrix declared, speaking her master's name for the second time. "Allow us to leave unharmed, and you will be rewarded. Hinder us, and you will pay. You know Voldemort can offer you more than anyone else."

Speaking the Dark Lord's name for the third time seemed to be the charm, as a sort of agreement seemed to ripple among the dementors. When the Patronus spells faded, one of the dementors glided forward, carrying the master key. It handed it to Bellatrix, who tossed it to Rookwood.

"We thank you," Bellatrix said with a short bow as Rookwood quickly freed Dolohov. Then the dementors parted, and the Death Eaters began to walk towards the exit, freeing other Death Eaters as they passed them. Some came eagerly, but others had to be coaxed. All gazed at Bellatrix in amazement as she helped them to join the escapees.

In a quarter of an hour, they reached the harbor, where a rickety wooden boat that resembled a small pirate ship was waiting. On the deck stood Wormtail, who was casting nervous looks at the sky, where a storm was raging. As lightning flashed in the sky, Bellatrix and nine other Death Eaters boarded the boat. The moon shone above them when they cast off, free at last from Azkaban.

"It's been so long since I've seen the moon!" Rabastan exclaimed, gazing up at it.

"Where is the Dark Lord now?" Bellatrix asked Wormtail as they sailed on.

"He'll summon you," Wormtail began, but broke off, gripped by a sudden wave of sea sickness. Bellatrix sneered scornfully as he leaned over the side of the railing.

Shortly before dawn, they reached shore and Bellatrix felt her arm burn. Not that she cared. After Azkaban, it was wonderful to be able to feel anything at all. In Azkaban, everything was dull and cold and muted and unchanging, so innate to the island that you did not even realize there could be another atmosphere until you were free.

And Bellatrix was indeed free. With a wild laugh, she and the others Apparated to the Dark Lord. He stood in a clearing in the woods like a god out of Greek mythology. Hades, perhaps. Behind him was a large manor and before him on the grass was a long, wooden table, upon which a feast was set.

"Master!" Bellatrix greeted reverently as she saw him, and immediately kneeled. The others followed suit.

"Welcome back, Bella," the Dark Lord responded, pleased with himself. "Eat. I think you will find it satisfactory." Bellatrix and the others rose. "Afterwards, perhaps you will enjoy a hot shower and a soft bed?"

"Thank you, Master!" Bellatrix exclaimed, giving the Dark Lord a look of unveiled adoration as he sat down at the head of the table. Bellatrix settled down on his right and began to tear into a roasted chicken leg. Next to her, Rodolphus was heaping mashed potatoes on his plate, and beside him, Rabastan was drooling as he helped himself with a spoon full of peas.

When the feast was finished, Rodolphus joined Bellatrix for a hot shower that felt heavenly. Upon getting out, they found exquisite new robes set out for them. Dressing themselves, they walked outside.

"What will you need us to do?" Bellatrix asked, approaching the Dark Lord.

He gave an approving nod. "Sleep first. Then I am going to need you."

Before Bellatrix could respond, Rabastan pointed wildly to the east, where the sun was rising.

"Look!" he shouted. "After so long, it's rising again! Look at it! Look! It's risen again!"

Bellatrix laughed appreciatively, gazing up at the sun. "Come, Bella," Rodolphus said quietly, and lead her into the manor, where the soft bed of their reborn life awaited them.