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The air was thick with a cold mist that made anyone who walked outside in it shiver.
Walking among that mist was Bellatrix Lestrange; she liked the cold it soothed her burning soul.
The soul that ached to shun the chains of marriage, the chains that kept her tied down to one man.
She hadn't wanted to marry Rodolphus. and had only done so to appease her parents, but now the price of appeasement was her soul burning for something more.
Maybe it was why she took the Dark Mark; maybe it was she enjoyed the pain she inflicted upon other people.
It was for certain the reason her body longed for another; it was the reason her soul burned for the Dark Lord.
Because she longed to escape the endless boredom of marriage, of having to listen to the talk of securing an heir and most importantly she longed to escape the fact that moment she had married, she was no longer Bellatrix Black, but Bellatrix Lestrange.
So she walked in the coldness hoping it'd freeze the fire within.
