Helloo. So this is my attempt to try and write a Bellamort fic. Since i am a huge shipper, i thought maybe i should.
Gonna keep them IN CHARACTER, so no complete twists are going to happen. Sticking to the timeline and events from the books.
Review if liked the beginning, i'd want to know how many people are reading and should i continue.
1. Rebirth
A light reached the cold, stony room once again. Weather outside was the worst one could expect – non-stopping rain and lightning that hit the sky with a deafening noise every few seconds. Then again, it seemed the only 'alive' thing remaining in the area. An enormously tall building had no life in it, though many lived there, not by their own will, however. None of the people were moving, talking or even thinking. They were all lying on the hard ground of Azkaban prison. Any movement or happy memory, they knew, would cause them a kiss from a dementor. The soul-sucking creatures brought many to the edge of insanity, therefore if prisoners even tried to escape, they wouldn't remember where the door is. If death was an option, many would've taken it. Unfortunately, only long and painful torture was.
A quick flash of light reached the room again, with a noise causing a slight gasp from the person in it.
"No, no, NO!" she screamed, "I didn't… Don't touch me… Didn't mean to… No!"
The thin figure prepared for a cold and sharp kiss of dementor, but it didn't happen. Her body was shaking; any minute now… Nothing.
She lifted her head up a bit and opened her eyes. There was no one else in the room. She slowly stood up more confident but yet terrified that the dementor might show up at any moment. But the only noises were heard from outside, caused by the heavy rain. Her thin legs walked her to a tiny and heavily grated window that was the only source of light and fresh air. She lifted herself up a bit to see what's happening outside of these walls. Even though her view consisted only of rain pouring into a dark, deep lake, she stood there for hours.
A tiny, skeleton thin figure with messy hair covering her head. She was all dirty, her striped robes torn and in rags, hands and lips reflected the cold shade of blue, overall, the person looked miserable. Every part of her seemed sad, all but the eyes. The hazel brown shade still had the natural sparkle, though with a dash of insanity over the years in prison. Stars shined in her eyes, but they weren't alone; the shine mixed with hope.
Many thought it was pathetic how after fourteen years of being imprisoned, she still believed she'll get out. That her Lord will come and rescue her…
A sudden exploding sound reached her ears. She quickly turned around and fell to the ground, covering her head and again waiting for the painful torture. But this time, she felt that something was different. It wasn't a dementor, the noise was caused by a spell.
Her feet lifted the slim body up again and she slowly walked to where the sound came from. Moving forward, she felt a whiff of fresh wind touch her face. She let out a silent gasp and started running. She ran as fast as she could for minutes; the wind grew stronger and stronger. She stopped. The view her eyes sighted forced a huge grin on her face. The wall that bounded Azkaban with the out world was blown down. She could escape now.
"He came" she whispered, "The D-Dark Lord has returned." She started jumping around and screamed her breath out.
"I TOLD YOU ALL!" she roared, "HE IS BACK!"
She shut for a moment and listened. There were voices coming from the bottom of the building. "Others have escaped, too" she thought and without hesitation dived into the darkness.
She fell down the tall prison and froze to her very core. Her feet finally touched the ice-cold water and only seconds after she was catching her breath, battling waves as she tried to swim. The prisoner heard other people but couldn't see anything; the night was too dark.
"I heard a splash!" a man's voice shrieked, "Someone else is here!"
She turned her head to the direction of his voice and screamed loud to get attention. She was too weak to swim for any longer and her body finally gave up trying. Her head dived into the water and the last sound she heard was someone shouting her name: "Bellatrix."
The cold water flooded her entire body; her lungs were almost out of air. She sank deeper and deeper. Suddenly a strong hand grabbed her by the waist. She could feel the person's heartbeat. The person squeezed her, tighter and with some sort of enthusiasm. They disapparated.