Her knees where shaking, breath shaking, hands shaking.. every part of her was shaking as his strong cool hand pinned her effortlessly against the stone wall. There were tears in her eyes and her bottom trembled like a child's after being scolded by a parent for a mistake. And oh what a mistake it had been.
The prophecy was destroyed, the rest of the part of Death Eaters who had gone into the Department of Mysteries were recaptured so soon after being freed. Lucius among them. He'd not last long in Azkaban. He'd be a gibberish wreck after a week. It was his fault anyway, his fault she was currently staring shining eyed up at the Dark Lord who looked as if he was about to kill her.
"M-Master.. please.. I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry, it wasn't my fault.. Lucius.." but the hand around her neck squeezed harder and the terrified witch let out a pitiful whimper but she was still staring right at him, right into his eyes. He had to admire her for that. "I'm sorry, Master."
She was opening sobbing now, tears falling from her pretty eyes and he watched them as he towered over her, Bellatrix had always been a beautiful witch, but when she was like this, frightened and sobbing, she was sentient.
"Sorry will not change the damage done, Bellatrix!" He didn't raise his voice above a hissed whisper, he didn't have to. "I have never been so disappointed in you as I am now."
Bellatrix felt her heart shatter at his words and let herself sink to the floor when he let her go, painful heavy sobs that shook her tiny frame so violently her back hit the wall behind her over and over. She hid her face in her hands, rocking back and forth on the cold floor, she was hyperventilating now, unable to breathe and Voldemort watched her with mild interest.
It wasn't her fault, he knew that, he knew it was Lucius' failings, he knew she'd been the only one to manage to deflect a spell from Dumbledour himself, he was in fact, proud of her for that, she'd killed the Black traitor too, more than any of them put together had done.
He could have left her there, left her pinned under the golden statue sobbing like a child, let them take her back to Azkaban, but he hadn't, he'd chosen to save her. He'd chosen to spare precious moments with the auras closing in to grab her before he vanished. No. He hadn't left her. Couldn't leave her.
"Go to bed, Bella. We shall talk in the morning." Reaching down Voldemort gripped her arm in one hand and pulled her to her feet, possibly gentler than he could have been as he gave her a shove towards the door.
She was still trembling, sniffling and wiping at her eyes as she stumbled to the door. Stopping to give him a woeful look before she disappeared around the corner.
Damn this witch who made him.. feel.