A/N This is a one shot I wrote for a fanfiction class in college.
Disclaimer: Don't own, anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling
Bellatrix Lestrange was going mad. Locked away in Azkaban with only dementors for company, her only solace was in her knowledge that she served her Lord well. Knowing this did not keep the dementors and insanity from getting to her though. As she sat in her cell, all she could do was curl into a ball and try not the hear the screaming. Usually, she enjoyed screams, the agonizing cries of those she tortures, but this screaming and wailing was far worse. This was the wailing of those who knew they would never be happy again, would never see the world outside these walls, would slowly waste away as food for dementors. These were her screams and whimpering. She once thought herself too proud to ever again whimper or moan like this, but here in this cell she has no control over herself.
The dementors were pleased by her painful noises, it urged them on. Made them want more. They were slowly sucking every happy memory or feeling from her mind. Any sense of peace or sanity was slowly being sucked away, and the dementors were pleased.
Memories were flashing through Bellatrix's mind, the happy ones gone in an instant but the painful ones lingered, driving her insane.
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Four year old Bellatrix holds her baby sister Narcissa for the first time. She looks down at the tiny bald headed baby and sees the cute little nose and big eyes. She swears she will be the best big sister to Cissy like she already is to Andy.
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Pain. Screams.
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Bellatrix's father looks down at her with indifference. She is eleven and about to go to Hogwarts for the first time. Her mother lectures her on the proper behavior and socialization for a pure-blood young lady like herself. She straightens her back and puts on the Black family haughty sneer. She learned long ago to be quiet and listen, anything else and she would be punished by her father, who everyone knew enjoyed those punishments far too much.
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She is twelve and home for Christmas holiday. She watches with fake disapproval on her face as her eight year old sister Cissy chastises the toddler Sirius for purposefully getting jam on her new dress. Baby Regulus, on Andromeda's lap, looks on and laughs innocently. The laughter spreads and soon the five young aristocrats are laughing, their learned regal behavior slipping while they just be children for a moment.
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Thirteen and developing into a proper woman, Bellatrix is proud and vain of her newly developed body. That is, until older Rodolphus Lestrange takes a liking to her. In the hallways, he leers at her body, and in the Common Room he takes to groping and forcing kisses. Bellatrix loathes him, but knows of his pure blood and rich family, the two characteristics of a man she should marry to continue the family line. As he forces himself onto her, she imagines torturing him. Causing pain is the only thought that keeps her going.
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Seventeen and finally mastering the Cruciatus Curse. It took weeks of practicing on mudblood first years. Her years of relishing in the pain of others, a trait inherited from her father, have led her to this moment. As the child screams, she laughs. A laugh that turns into a hyena like cackle that would haunt the nightmares of the child until Bellatrix Lestrange is finally killed. In that moment, Bellatrix knows she has found her calling.
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The memories come fast. With the dementors stealing her good memories the painful ones are all she is left with. Gone are the times with her sisters. Laughing and playing with them. Gone is the joy of pushing her magic to the furthest heights it can go. All that is left is the pain. Her father's punishments. Rodolphus's sick pleasure in her, before and after their wedding. The pain of her Lord's displeasure when she tries so hard for him...
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Twenty one and about to meet Lord Voldemort himself for the first time. Before this she had just gone through others, Rodolphus and his brother mainly. Rodolphus was the one who recruited her, though it was more like told her she was joining the Death Eaters. She did not fight him on this though, she truly believed in the cause. And besides, she was willing to do anything to be able to cause pain to others. Since she mastered the Cruciatus at seventeen, she has delved deep into the Dark Arts and came out the other side a master of them. This allowed her to quickly rise through the ranks of the Death Eaters until here she is, finally about to meet the Dark Lord himself. She had followed him for years, and secretly had worshiped him. And when he finally entered the room, her worship of him heightened and she became obsessed. She threw herself at his feet. He looked down, smirked, and said one word. Crucio.
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It took a couple more months of proving herself to her Dark Lord, but at twenty two years of age she is finally going to be marked. This will prove to her father and brother that she is more than a piece of meat house wife, to be sold and bought. She has proven herself to Lord Voldemort himself that she is worthy of his mark upon her. And maybe once she has the mark he will allow her to serve him in another way also. Not just another servant to do the dirty work of war but a female companion to satisfy baser instincts. Rodolphus cannot say anything against this or face the wrath of Voldemort.
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She is twenty four and looking down at twenty year old Narcissa . Her baby sister is about to marry Lucius Malfoy, a wealthy pure-blood and fellow Death Eater. Bellatrix hopes that Narcissa can stay home and play good housewife rather than get involved as a Death Eater. As the two talk, both feel but neither mention the gaping hole where the third sister should be. She made her choice and must bear the consequences.
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At twenty six, Bellatrix has wormed her way to being in Voldemort's inner circle. She is the only woman there and constantly is proving herself to the others, especially the new recruits. It usually takes a few duals ending with them on their backs writhing and screaming in pain for them to show her the proper fear. Voldemort approves and enjoys these little duels, and usually has her on her knees in front of him, gagging on him, afterward.
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She is twenty eight and in the middle of a battle scene. They were out having fun, burning some filthy muggle houses and torturing them, when the Aurors and stupid Order of the whatever showed up. They were not prepared for this, the Dark Lord would not be pleased. She is dueling two Aurors and quickly kills both. Then her traitor cousin Sirius is dueling her. She hits him with a quick Crucio, and apparates away. That night, she gets the worst torture from Voldemort she has gotten since taking the mark.
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She is thirty and just gotten the news that they claim Voldemort was defeated by a baby. She screams and falls to her knees, glad Rodolphus is the only one present. She is used to physical pain, even enjoys it to an extent, but emotional pain of this magnitude is foreign to her. All the walls she had built up since she was a little girl came crashing down and for a moment she was just a four year old girl whose baby sister is being yanked from her arms the first time she holds her. Then all at once she stops, and for a moment she does not recognize herself. But then she erects the walls once again and stands up. She looks Rodolphus straight in the eyes and says that she has a plan.
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Screams turn hoarse then silent except for the rocking and whimpering. The dementors move on for now. All the good memories are gone and left is just the pain of a young woman. Bellatrix Lestrange just sits there rocking and thinking. What happened to the strong willed woman determined to become the best in the Dark Arts? The woman who seduced the Dark Lord himself. Who sat chained at her trial as if she were upon a throne. She is in Azkaban, whimpering and curled into a ball on the floor. But through all this, she knows one thing. Her Dark Lord Voldemort will come again, and she will be here waiting.