Disclaimer: Anything you recognise... I don't own.

Note: Here's a new one guys. I actually wrote this for a piece of English homework but I'm intrigued to see what you all think. I'd be glad of any constructive criticism (but don't be mean... if you don't like it and don't have anything helpful to say then please don't bother reviewing) Hope everyone enjoys it!

My Bella

She's like a fire – stand too close and you'll get yourself burned. Well some of us have no choice if we want to risk it or not. I blame my parents for this whole mess. It was them who decided I would marry her; I had to do as I was instructed.

"She's a pureblood Rodolphus," they told me "and she will produce beautiful children."

I'll admit they were right. Bellatrix is an extremely beautiful, pureblood, witch; and if we were to have children I am almost certain they would take after her. However I sincerely doubt that she would even consider having children. She's not that type of woman.

Bella is fanatical. She would do absolutely anything for our Lord. It's like some sick obsession; I sometimes believe she would kill herself if that was his wish. She's in love with him. She can deny it for the rest of her life if that's what she wants to do – but I know the truth. The way she looks at him with her shining brown eyes... she's never looked at me in that way. Not that she cares. She knows I get jealous. She's my wife. I may not have wanted to marry her originally, but I have grown to love her. The feeling is certainly not mutual. She constantly reminds me how little I mean to her.

"Honestly Rodolphus, when will you understand that I don't love you? You mean as much to me as muggles and mudbloods – absolutely nothing but personal gain." She says to me.

She's deadly serious. The only use Bellatrix has for me is to get her what she wants. She knows how to control me; I would do anything she asked for her to spend just a small amount of time with me. I would kill an entire country for a single kiss. I wouldn't even consider the consequences, as long as Bella was happy.

Some people say she's insane, and I have to admit I do see what they mean. My wife takes a great deal of pleasure from causing pain. I've seen it. She throws the cruciatus curse at anyone who gets in her way. She laughs as they scream and contort in pain at her feet. She taunts her victims as their blood seeps from their bodies. It's both horrifying and fascinating to watch.

But it's like I've said... loving Bellatrix is hazardous. When you spend all your time with a selfish ball of volatile energy you're asking for trouble. Well I, being the idiot that I am, chose to stay in harm's way.

I could have just left her. I could have renounced the dark lord when he disappeared, claiming I had been under the effects of the imperious curse. But I wouldn't. Bella's power over me was like a wall, trapping me with her so that I had to do as she wanted. Ensuring that I would keep doing whatever it took to make her happy; even if that meant reuniting her with the man who had torn apart our marriage from the very beginning.

As always, Bellatrix enjoyed every second of torturing the Longbottoms; she drank in every scream, absorbed each twitch of pain and revelled in the tears that streamed from their bloodshot eyes. She showered them with curse after curse until they could do nothing more than whimper pathetically. But as the Longbottoms luck ran out, so did ours.

Now I sit in this cramped, cold, damp and filthy stone cell, frozen to the bone by the chill of the dementors. I spend my days dreaming of my wife. I know she isn't dreaming of me. The only thoughts in that pretty little head of hers are of him. The man I once admired above all others and whose mark is still burned on my left arm.

Bellatrix resides in the cell next to mine. It's been years now since the doors were shut and bolted. Years since I saw her last. Yet each day I can still hear her shrieking. She still makes a point of informing the inhabitants of Azkaban that Lord Voldemort will return and free us from this hell. My poor Bella - still convinced that he is coming to save her. I hate to hear her words; I don't want to think of her dying with these delusions enslaving her. But that is the way her story may end.