Here's my first attempt at a Bellatrix fanfiction. I'm obsessed with finding the gray area in every situation, so I decided to give her a good side. I know it's wierd, and flames are welcome. I thought I should write this, since it just kind of popped into my head. Depending on the feedback is whether or not I'll continue.

AUTHOR NOTE: IMPORTANT! This is a redone version, with some corrections to it. I will be tweaking the chapters to fit an accompanying fic I'm writing. Please give it a chance??? Please??? Thanks!

Disclaimer: Why do I bother? Everyone knows I don't own it . . .

Chapter One: Pain

I've been watching this war unfurl for Merlin knows how long. Ever since my school days, our stupid little gang. Of course, Lucius was at the front of it. My sister, gentle Narcissa, falling for him completely. I think that may be part of why I'm here right now. If she had never become involved with Malfoy, I would have been spared from marrying Rodolphus. I may have never been made a Death Eater.

Cognitive dissonance. I'm in conflict with myself now, wondering if I wouldn't have been very much like my cousin, Sirius. Maybe even my sister would have been that way.

Don't get me wrong. I don't exactly regret anything I've done. I have my reasons, I know why I commit these crimes, why I support the Dark Lord. I am his greatest follower, his most dedicated. I support him because I have no other choice. As a Lestrange, it is a given that I become a Death Eater, just like a Malfoy, Crabbe, or Goyle. If I were still a Black, perhaps I would be at home, sitting back and watching from the sidelines, instead of being in the thick of it. Or dead, like my cousin.

Sigh. The Dark Lord's plan gets more dangerous and complicated by the day. His ambition is taking over. Ever since Pettigrew restored his body, it's been so much worse. Everything has made a turn for the bloody war. And the infiltration of Hogwarts . . . Severus.

I was there in moments that the Dark Lord is not supposed to know about. I was there when my sister begged Severus for help with Draco's task. That may have been the Dark Lord's downfall, placing such an important task upon a child. Young Draco, as sarcastic and sadistic as he may be, has never been capable of killing anyone. What made the Dark Lord believe he could kill Dumbledore? Not only that, but the way he threatened him with Lucius and Narcissa's death. I don't care for Lucius, he can rot in Hell. But my sister . . . no matter what anyone says about us, that Death Eaters don't have hearts, family is still family. My little sister is precious to me.

That's why I didn't stop her from getting Severus's help. As long as Draco had someone, he would succeed. That guaranteed my sister's life. As for Malfoy, he'll get his due. After Dumbledore's death, though, that's when everything went into an uproar. Any doubt that we were back in power was wiped from every witch and wizard's minds. The Dark Lord's plans are all moving into place, prompting Potter and his friends to take action. It's only a matter of time before an actual battle breaks out, and that's what we are preparing for. I've been put in charge of gathering support from the worst possible source. Dementors. But first on my list of duties is freeing Malfoy. Once I've done that, I am free to persuade the Dementors to join us. There's only one flaw in that plan.

Who knows how to communicate with Dementors? Anyone? Chances are, I'll be able to free Lucius, but we will both die trying to persuade the Dementors. Or maybe not, he'll probably leave me there to die alone. Who cares?

I'm on my way out of the stronghold, our dwelling place, to Azkaban.

"Bella!" Turning around, I realize my sister is calling to me. She's running down the hall towards me, her blond hair flying like a cape behind her. She's much more beautiful than I am. I've always been jealous of her, but I never let it show. There's no reason for that now, since we're all going to die.

"Yes?" I was impatient. She could tell. Risking my neck for her husband was something I really didn't feel like doing. She cringed slightly at my tone.

"Be careful, ok?" Her voice was gentle, trying to calm me down. The melancholy evident in her face made me want to leave Malfoy in Azkaban, Avada him myself, and make up a story for the Dark Lord. I know he is an excellent Legilimens, but I am just as good at Occlumency. The Dark Lord doesn't know that, though. I taught myself when I was younger. I don't want anyone intruding in my private business, thank you very much.

"I'll be fine, Cissy. You don't need to worry, I'll have your husband back soon." She didn't know the part of my having to round up Dementors. The Dark Lord was very specific in his orders, no one was to know but me. Everyone in his innermost circle was given a species to recruit. But we're not at the liberty to tell anyone else. Greyback is in charge of the werewolves, Pettigrew has to round up trolls(he's a coward, I doubt he'll pull it off), and Malfoy, when I bring him back, will go after the vampires. My dear sister is being sent to Hogsmeade as soon as I return. She's to keep an eye on the activities going on in Hogwarts. Now that Dumbledore is dead, that task is among the easiest.

"Ok. Please return soon." She was more worried for me than for her husband. Nodding, I placed my hood over my head and fastened my cloak. Once the mask was on my face, a Apparated.

Azkaban prison lay before me. Memories came back from my period of confinement. Despite what Severus says, I did suffer for the Dark Lord. The years I spent in this godforsaken place was what started my conflict. I began to wonder what kind of turn my life would have taken if I had not become a Death Eater. I was in the cell beside my cousin, and I found it amazing that he could stay sane. Occlumency is what helped me, but I knew he had never been particularly successful at defensive magic. He would speak to me on occasion, getting me thinking. I never responded, but he seemed to know the effect he had on me.

The moment he escaped, I was barely conscious. I saw a dog on the other side of the bars of my cell. I could hear the Dementors searching, scanning the cells for him. I never knew he was an animagus, but I could tell it was him. The dog had the same mischief filled eyes he had always had as a teenager. He seemed to want me to go with him. I just lay in my cell, though, not really anxious to leave. I was safe in my cell, and the Dementors didn't affect me as badly as they did anyone else. There was one thing we both had in common. Not that it mattered.

The prison loomed over me in the darkness, ready to engulf me and make me prisoner again. I wouldn't let it. Taking a deep breath, I began my trek up to the gates.

Azkaban Prison has very similar protection to Hogwarts. They have the lesser defense charms, and spells, along with the anti-Apparating. They never suspected that a Death Eater would come in voluntarily or alone. They weren't prepared for me. I used a cloaking spell, similar to the one used to make a place unplottable, and climbed over the gates. I fell on the other side without so much as a light thud.

The day I escaped, I never really paid much attention to the scenery. The island itself was normal enough, but, inside the gates, there were thousands of tombstones. The ones who didn't become Dementors were buried here. I shuddered slightly, remembering that I could have been put here. With one last look at the graveyard around me, I hurried into the prison. It took everything I had to keep my concentration on getting to Malfoy's cell. What little I remembered of the make up of the building wasn't helping me at all. I closed my mind as tightly as possible as I made my way through the many halls. Were this any regular prison, the inmates would be yelling at me to let them go. But the cells I passed by were occupied by mere shells of humans. They were all close to becoming the very thing that they feared. The atmosphere of the prison still got to me, sending chills through every patch of my skin. The depressing gray walls and cells brought my cousin to mind.

I don't know how long it took me to find Malfoy's cell, but in all that time, I never once ran into a Dementor. There was a special wing in which they kept Death Eaters, and it took me forever to find it. It was protected by more spells than the prison itself. When I finally managed to get inside, I let out a sigh of relief. But something still unnerved me. Where were the Dementors?

"Malfoy!" I was whispering, afraid that they were perhaps at the other side of the corridor, hidden in darkness. I heard movement to my left and readied my wand. I scanned the cells. "Lucius! Where the hell are you?"

"H-Here . . ." The rasp came from my left, same as the previous noise. I looked closely into the cell.

There he was, lying on the floor in the cloak he usually wore. His silver hair was messed up terribly, and his face was gaunt. The pompousness of his expression was absent, until he realized who was looking at him. All his old sarcasm and superiority complex came back. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

"Lestrange? Is that you?"

"No it's Potter, who do you think it is?" I watched slight anger pass through his face, but he controlled himself.

"Are you going to get me out or not?" I was tempted into killing him, I really was. My sister would suffer for it, though, so I merely opened the cell and helped him stand. I cast a healing spell on him, trying to make him look at least presentable for my sister.

"Come on. I have to get you out of here." I led the way back out of the prison, winding through the halls with ease. I was still cautious, though. The Dementors could be anywhere, and if I got outside without encountering any, I would have to let Malfoy go on ahead of me. I had to stay and recruit.

As soon as we stepped outside, however, that was no longer an option. A horde of Dementors was coming our way.

"Expecto Patronum!" Light shot out from my wand. It took the form of a raven, and drove most of the Dementors away. Malfoy was cowering in fear of them. "Idiot, MOVE! You have to get out of here!" I grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the gates. "Climb!" As he made his way over the gate, I continued to fend of the Dementors, waiting to hear the noise of Malfoy Disapparating. After a few seconds, he was gone. I sent out another Patronus, and the Dementors were immobilized. I had a few precious moments to think. How would I persuade them?

Speech wouldn't work, since they couldn't understand. They began to move towards me again, and I had no choice but to run. I couldn't leave the island, though. The Dark Lord would kill me if I returned empty handed. I blasted the gate open, since I no longer had to worry about alerting anyone. I ran down to to beach stumbling every now and again. I had to get enough distance between me and them. I had to find a way to make a plan.

I finally made it to the beach, but the sand didn't help me at all. There were also plenty of rocks, waiting to impale me if I fell. My legs were shaking, I was ready to collapse. Looking back, I saw that the Dementors were close enough to see if I hid somewhere. I scanned my surrounding for some sort of cave or grotto. At the edge of the beach, I found a hollow tree. I quickly crawled inside, closing my mind up again and staying as still as possible.

The horde passed by me and I remained unnoticed. I sat in complete stillness and silence until dawn, which was a total of three hours away.

When I saw the first spark of light, I took a deep breath and sighed again. I looked around my sanctuary, scanning the wooden walls. I noticed something to my right. Crawling over to the spot on the floor, I realized it was writing. I lightly brushed the wood with my hand. It read:

Bellatrix-

I doubt you will ever read this, but I am taking this precaution. Cousin, do not rejoin the Dark Lord. He will cause your death, your demise. Please take into consideration everything I have told you, please. I don't wish for you to suffer. Go to Dumbledore or Harry and ask for help.

-Sirius

Had Sirius really written this to me four years ago? I couldn't believe it. He thought I would turn to Dumbledore like he had. Not like it's even possible anymore. Dumbledore is dead and Potter will probably kill me if he ever sees me again. My cousin had actually done this. I felt a knot rising in my throat.

No. I shook my head furiously. I couldn't think that way. Stupid emotions like these would lead to my discovery. Not to mention how enraged the Dark Lord will be with me. I had to start thinking straight. I needed to figure out how to communicate with Dementors.

They fed on the misery of their victims. That's pretty much all I knew about them. Wait . . .

What if the victim offered the suffering to them? What if I was willing to feed them? It was worth a try.

Before crawling out of the tree, I pulled out a dagger that I always carried with me. It had been a gift from my other cousin, Regulus, Sirius's brother. I used the dagger to carve into the tree.

Sirius-

Forgive me.

-Bella

I'm not sure why I did it. Was it an apology for what happened at the Ministry? Or was I apologizing for returning to the Dark Lord? Whatever the reason, I carved it into the tree, and in the tree it would stay.

Once I was outside, I stretched. I needed to be as calm as possible for what I was about to do. I took my time walking back to the prison, not at all eager about my plan. By the time I was back inside, it was late afternoon. I had purposely prolonged my plan. I stood with the gates behind me. Someone had repaired them. My mind was entirely open, luring in the Dementors with my worst memories.

It was about five minutes before they began flocking to me. I backed up into the gate, taking a deep breath. I grabbed the dagger and slit my palm. I crouched and placed my hand against the ground, hissing as the injury stung. My eyes watered.

It was an ancient ritual I learned a long time ago, during my Hogwarts days. My favorite subject was Magic History. While everyone slept and the Professor droned on, I would take the old history books and read ancient rituals. The one I performed now was crude and barbaric, but it did what I wanted it to. I slid my hand in a horizontal line in front of me. I muttered the incantation that went with the ritual. The Dementors stopped dead in their tracks. They wanted to get to me, but the blood barrier I created didn't let them. They wanted to administer the Kiss, but all they could do was feed off me now.

I healed my hand, making sure it didn't become infected, and then I slit it again, conjuring a chalice to gather the blood. The Dementors were feeding off my worst memories, making me relive them, but the physical pain kept me rooted to the present. Once I filled the cup a considerable amount, I squeezed my hand shut. If I healed it, the pain would leave and the horrors of my mind would consume me. I placed the chalice on the other side of my barrier, in offering to the Dementors.

In ancient times, witches and wizards created unbreakable blood bonds. Perhaps it would work with Dementors if I used my mind and my blood. I sat with my back against the gate. I didn't let my eyes close or lose concentration. The barrier required my constant attention. I watched as the blood was elevated from the cup and into the largest Dementor's hood. I heard strange breathing noises, as if it were inhaling my blood. The trail of blood from the cup to the Dementor lasted for another few minutes, until no more blood remained.

My body was about ready to collapse completely. I was so tired. I began to hear a voice in my head.

Bellatrix Black. Stay awake. I will respond to your request. I will help you. The voice was deep, gentle, but full of power. It was familiar, but I couldn't place it. Needless to say, this caused me to stand immediately. The rush made my head spin, and I almost fell over again. One of the Dementors caught me. The hand felt like ice, but that's all I felt. The sensation was physical, and they no longer fed on my memories.

Heal your hand. I nodded and did as he instructed me to. My hand was as good as new, but I had lost too much blood. I could barely stay up if it weren't for the Dementor's hand. I heard him ordering the other Dementors back into Azkaban. He then went back to speaking to me. What do you need of me?

Please, come with me to this place. I provided an image of the stronghold.

Very well . . . I apparated us both back to the stronghold. Once we were there, he stepped behind me. I saw that Narcissa and Lucius were conversing in a corner. The first to notice me was my sister.

"Bella!" Her face was worry-stricken, fearful for me as she noticed what stood behind me. Malfoy's face, however, was much more enjoyable. He was completely terrified and trembling all over.

"Don't worry, he's with me . . ." The confusion on their faces was amusing. I almost fell back again, but the Dementor's hand caught me. "Let me through, I have to speak to the Dark Lord . . ." They both stepped to the side, and I saw their gaze slide to my hand, the one drenched in crimson liquid. Narcissa tried to reach out for me, but I just walked past, making my way to the Dark Lord's room. I didn't even need to knock.

"Come in . . ." The words were a snake-like hiss, more than anything. The door opened on its own, and I was now faced with the back of an armchair. I saw his thin hand from the side, beckoning me. I made my way to face him, the Dementor trailing behind. When I faced him, I bowed.

"My lord. I have done as you ordered. This is the Dementor leader." He didn't even look at my disheveled hair, my dirty robes, or my stained hand. The slits he called eyes were boring into my mind. He searched, but my careful barriers were up, my detours and illusions. I couldn't let him know certain memories that the experience had provoked, I had to conceal my memories of Sirius. I only showed him the pain I went through, some trivial memories, and the process of freeing Malfoy and taking the Dementor.

"Excellent Bella. I am very pleased with you. You have done amazingly well." He hadn't expected me to succeed, I knew that much. "Now, what was it you used to gain control of this Dementor?"

"An ancient ritual of protection and bondage, my lord."

"Where did you acquire this information?" He was genuinely intrigued.

"My days at Hogwarts, my lord. I was in Advanced History of Magic and had access to several restricted books. I read about several rituals and memorized a few." I'm willing to bet he never suspected that anyone could learn such information from a class like that. He must have been one of the students who didn't pay attention in that class, despite his talent.

"Interesting . . . I will have to look into that."

"If I may, sir, would you like me to teach you?" He seemed appalled at the very mention of learning from one of his subordinates. Nevertheless, he kept his calm.

"No thank you, Bella, I will have someone acquire these books for me. Now, you must be my interpreter with the Dementors. This one is to live here, with you. Another room has been added to the suite that you shared with Rodolphus. Take the Dementor there. You are dismissed." At the mention of my late husband's name, I wanted to retch. Deep inside, I was glad he was dead. The Dark Lord had informed me that he had died in an attempt at an attack on Hogsmeade a few weeks ago.

"As you wish." I left the room, the Dementor trailing behind. Narcissa met us outside. She looked hopeful, that perhaps I had been granted some kind of reward. Or that I was in a better mood now.

"Bella, are you alright?" She was eying the Dementor nervously.

"Yes, I'm fine. How is Lucius?" It was the sisterly thing to do, to ask how her 'loving' husband was.

"He's terrible! Absolutely horrified with the assignment the Dark Lord has given him." I scoffed. What were vampires compared to Dementors? Nothing.

"It can't be any worse than mine. I have to go rest, ok? I'll talk to you later." The most he'll have to lose is a little blood. I lost a lot. Besides, he doesn't have to lose any blood if he knows how to persuade them. At least the vampires can speak English.

I traveled through the halls in silence, conversing with the Dementor.

So tell me, Bellatrix, what is it we are to do now?

Await further orders.

From the man you spoke to?

Yes.

Why? Why do you take orders from him?

He is the Dark Lord Voldemort. He is my master, and I follow him. It was on his orders that I spilled my blood to speak with you.

Very well . . . We didn't communicate for a while. I began to wonder what I could call him.

Do you have a name? You call me Bellatrix, what may I call you?

Arcturus. He didn't speak anymore. We had reached my rooms, and I showed him where he would stay. I really needed to rest, so I told him he was free to roam the suite, but that it wasn't a good idea to leave without me. He agreed to my terms, and I headed to the shower.

I washed all of the blood on my body off, and watched as it was drained with the water.

What do I do now, I wonder? I have a Dementor at my command, and nothing to do but await orders.

Memories of my assignment came back. The note from Sirius, my writing back to him. Did I regret sending him through that veil? I don't know. The two of us were never really close, and the eight year gap in our ages made it difficult to relate. The only time I spent with him at all, really, was the years in Azkaban, when I barely spoke a word to him. What would he say to me now? Would he be disappointed that I won the Dementors over for the Dark Lord? Yes. But I wasn't sure if I really ever wanted him to have the Dementors. Technically, they were mine, and Arcturus seems to dislike the Dark Lord. He only does as I say.

I wonder what the Dark Lord would do once he acquired the ancient rituals, if he acquires them at all. Was it wrong of me to let him know what I knew? Probably. But there isn't anything I can do about that now, is there? He is my Lord, after all, and I am bound to him by the mark on my arm.

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