Disclaimer: I do not own, "Harry Potter," or any affiliated works.
"A little known effect of the cruciatus curse is the vulnerability that it creates in the victim's mind. Once sufficiently delirious the subconscious of the victim is opened to suggestion and their very soul can be bent to the will of their attacker." The Facts of Dark Magic, Vol. 2 Pg. 206
The Most Powerful Witch of Her Age, that was the title earned by 16 year old Bellatrix Black; for a man who wanted power she was an obvious target for his special "recruiters". However, there was one problem that Lord Voldemort did not anticipate: Bellatrix served no one but herself… However, Voldemort found a way around that little problem….
"Crucio!"
Several decades later….
Hogwarts castle forms in front of my eyes as I regain consciousness. When I look across the battlefield, the fight is the same but something inside me has changed. For the first time I remember. I am Bellatrix Black, I am feared, I am used, I am deadly and I am his puppet.
He sees my rage, he hears me roar from the other side of the field. He immediately invades my mind and I respond by invading his. I sense his fear, he senses my bloodlust, our eyes lock and I sear him with my hatred.
He turns his wand.
"Expelliarmus!", the shaft flies to my hand.
*Snap!*
The Elder Wand is broken. He is stunned, not by a spell but by his shattered security. I am now the predator and like every good predator I anticipate that my prey's first response is flight. I, of course, will have none of that.
"Crucio!"
I am laughing and he is screaming; funny thing, this curse, so easy to deliver, not so easy to withstand. I doubt he has ever endured such agony…
"Scream for me!" I howl before casting the curse once again. He obliges immediately; what a good little worm! However, I am getting bored; I need a new kind of play.
"Levicorpus!"
The pale, spasming body lifts gracefully before hovering far above my head.
"Finite incantatum."
*Crunch!*
He gasps for air through punctured lungs, blood seeps from his limbs as bone protrudes from a once smooth forearm.
I can feel myself smile; the sight of red on pale white will never be more beautiful to me.
I lunge, my fingers crush his throat and I smash his skull against the unforgiving ground. I can almost taste his fear as I stare into red eyes.
I curl my lips revealing my teeth in a sardonic smile. "I am master…", I whisper.
"Avada Kedavra.", a flash of green light, "…my Lord."
Author's Note (A/N): Constructing Bellatrix as "good" is not my intention. I am merely exploring the possibility that such insane loyalty coupled with the known effects of the Cruciatus on one's sanity could be an alternate explanation for Bellatrix's actions.
If you want a sense for the emotional energy I envisioned, listen to Emilie Autumn's, "I Want My Innocence Back"