Year one after the Dark Lord's return:
Bellatrix waited. She waited and waited. Counting the days and nights with with each passing light to dark but he didn't come. "He'll come for me. He'll come." She told herself over and over. But He didn't come, yet she didn't lose faith. "He'll come."
Year three after the Dark Lord's return:
She still waited. Marking the days on her cell wall with little line carved into the stone, The wardens took pleasure in tormenting her, "Still waiting for your master like a good dog, Lestrange?" and the whips still fell on her back, the Dementors were gone but the Wardens were worse now than ever, but still she waited. Faith never wavering.
Year five after the Dark Lord's return:
Bellatrix sat in the small strip of moonlight shining into her dark cell trough the high bar window close to the ceiling, her eyes were fixed on the fading dark mark on her arm and her fingers stroked it lovingly, tears brimming and gathering on her eyelashes. "Why didn't you come for me, Master? Why? Why? I waited, I was loyal, I never gave you and you didn't come for me, why?" But she never got an answer and slowly the mark faded to nothing but a grey smudge and Bella knew he was gone.
Year ten after the Dark Lord's return and demise:
Rodolphus was dead. They'd taken great pleasure in dragging her through the halls to see his dead body and Bellatrix had screamed her grief, her heart breaking all over again for the husband she had loved and lost for the second time. They took her back to her cell, a broken woman.
After that night, Bellatrix refused to eat so they force fed her through a tube, she simply threw it all back up again until they gave in and left her laying on the pathetic little cot in her cell slowly starving herself to death.
Ten days later, Bellatrix Lestrange died in Azkaban no one came for her body and she was buried next to her husband, a small kindness given to her by the grave digger, the only act of kindness she received in over two decades.
