Star is currently not in the possesion of the Harry Potter World or anything involving it.
In this case, it is not Death of a Hero, but Death of a Villain.
There was no one to weep over her. No one spoke a word over shame over her demise. Was it nobody cared? Had she spent her life up until her dying breath fighting for the wrong team? Perhaps it was so. The curse did its duty as the life drained from her once adrenaline filled body, leaving a husk of the woman who had once been there. The eyes that had once been chalked full of insanity and desperation were now flat discs, staring blankly at the war she had died fighting. The corpse would receive no special treatment, no burial or intimate ceremony. She had been just another pawn in the war anyways, fighting for her master and serving as obediently as a slave. Which she had become. There was no will or joy. Only an intense craving to be needed, to be satisfying. If it meant killing, then she would have killed every person in her sights, innocent or not. But had it given her pleasure? It had seemed too, but no one had asked to verify the assumption. Now she was just another body lying on the grounds of Hogwarts and nobody would ever know for certain. Was she evil? What was evil truly? Many people said she had been vile, low and disgusting. Trash. Is that what evil made you? So many unanswered questions, yet the dead woman would never be able to answer any of them. Many people felt victory over her death, as if the loved ones she killed had come to rest in peace. One boy with unruly black hair and a lightning bolt scar couldn't help but feel a jolt of relief in his gut over the Godfather he had lost to her years before. Yet she wouldn't know how relieving her death was, only that her life had been no longer than a blink in the spectrum of things. How things she had done, good and bad had helped mount up to the final outcome. Only one thing was for certain, not even her own family would mourn the death of Bellatrix Lestrange.