I am armed with ice cream, chocolate and other sugar-filled goodies. Will that be enough to stop you from eating me because of the mahoosive update wait? Pwease?
Though I have actually met someone called Harold Potter, I do not own him or Harry. :(
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~Part 12~
Daytime. That's all I can tell you. I don't even know if it's daytime anymore, actually. It's grey outside. Then again, we are in England. It's always grey.
My hair reaches the floor now. I think that's quite a feat, to be honest. At least, it would be, if I could actually brush it.
Nighttime. I know this for sure, now, because it's bloody freezing. Oh, wait, again I say – we're in England. When isn't it bloody freezing??
Was just woken up by that creepy feel of someone staring at my back. I turned around to glance at the hole between Siri's old cell and mine, to see the silhouette of a man with straggly, knotted hair and mad eyes staring at me and grinning psychotically, his eyes glowing white against the black. I screamed. But I wasn't scared. No. I wasn't. Shut up.
The man laughed, and I recognised the voice. "Rabastan??" I asked, squinting to try and see him better, before rolling my eyes.
"The one and only. Made you jump, did I?" He grinned properly at me, beckoning me over.
I sighed and got up, walking over to the cell. "No, actually, I was fine. Totally expecting it."
He raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down. "So the whole screaming like a girl thing was…?" He grinned. Yep, his teeth had to be worse than mine. There is no way mine could be worse that that.
"What do you mean, screaming like a girl? I am a girl, in case you haven't noticed, you idiot." I rolled my eyes again, leaning against the wall and chewing my nails. Cissy would kill me if she saw me doing that. I may have to show her, just to give her a heart attack. It'd be amusing.
Bastan grabbed the front of my robe and pulled me close, looking down it. "Oh, it appears you are. My mistake." He grinned up at me and winked.
I shoved him away. "Stop that, you pervert." I snapped, though I was laughing at the same time. It was nice to laugh. Laughter's a sound rarely heard in here. To have someone to laugh with was even better. Most of the time I end up laughing to myself. I've started to sound quite insane. I like it.
"Come on, Bella. You know me. Can't resist a girl in a potato sack." He laughed at my shocked expression. "You and your sisters are bloody loud at times. I never thought Narcissa could rob you of four hundred thousand Galleons…"
"Yeah, well…" I said quickly. "You know… she… she is my sister, after all… I taught her well." I nodded.
"Bella, your acting skills have died with your sanity." Rabastan said, playing with my hair. I snapped out at his fingers, and he flicked my nose, grinning. "I have missed you, y'know. I keep remembering the times when we all lived at home. When Rod would go off to work and it'd just be you and me. And you'd be wearing those ridiculously tight, low-cut dresses. And you were beautiful. So beautiful." He stroked my cheek, staring down into my eyes. "I always loved you."
I pulled my head away, taking his wrist and putting it down by his side. "Bastan… why are you telling me this?"
He shrugged, reaching out and stroking the matted mess of rat's tails I have for hair. "Come on, Bells. Don't you think the Dark Lord would have come by now if he were going to come? If he has risen – which is unlikely, admit it – he's probably found new followers-"
I shoved him away, furious. "How dare you?! I am the best Death Eater the Dark Lord's ever seen!! No one could replace me, and he knows that! He told me so! He will rise again, how dare you suggest otherwise, you filthy Traitor!! His power… it is incomparable, greater than anyone else's ever to walk the planet! He is not dead! He will come for us! HE WILL!!!"
Bastan took a step back, and I like to think I scared him. "Bella, darling-"
"NO!! DON'T TALK TO ME! IT'S CLEAR YOU'RE NO MORE THAN A TRAITOR, I COULD KILL YOU FOR THAT!! HOW DARE YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO ME, THE DARK LORD'S MOST FAITHFUL SERVANT?!?! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!!"
He stared at me for a minute. "You are insane. You can't honestly believe that. Do you? I gave up years ago…"
"BECAUSE YOU'RE A TRAITOR!!" I didn't even wait for him to reply; I just turned and sat in the one place in my cell where he couldn't see me. I heard him moving away a few seconds later. Arsehole.
Thirty seconds later
Wait, hang on… Bastan said, 'And you were beautiful.' Were?
Some days later. It's snowing. I know that doesn't help you with the date, but I don't care. It's snowing. At least you know it's winter, don't you?
I hate snow. What's the point of it? Water feeds the plants and trees, blah, and the sunshine makes them grow, but what does snow do? Abso-bloody-loutley nothing, apart from cut off the feeling in my feet. This is ANOTHER crap thing about Azkaban – the windows aren't glass, just holes with bars across them so we can't commit suicide. So, of course, the snow is coming in my cell. And it's not light snow. It's a blizzard. I can't see the straw on the floor any more, it's all covered in white stuff. And when you're wearing nothing but a potato sack and the same knickers you've had on for however many years it's been now (again I say, hygiene? Please??) it's damn cold.
Meh. I'm going to make a snowman.
I don't have a carrot (I'd eat it if I did)… coal… a scarf (and if I did, it would not go to the bloody snowman) or anything… ah, well. It can have straw for arms, yes, and… no hat or scarf. I have to cope without, so it can too. Ooh, I should make it Azkaban-themed… no. I'll make one of me. Yes. A snow-Bella. That sounds perfect.
Aah, this is fun. I haven't made a snowman for years. Me and my sisters and cousins used to make them all the time… Christmas wasn't really much fun with the parents. The feast was lovely – succulent turkey, chicken and pork, those little sausages wrapped in bacon, Yorkshires, gravy, champagne, wine, tons of roast potatoes, thousands of vegetables, and then the puddings… oh God… why do I torture myself?
Yes, so… the feast was lovely, so now I'm going to change the subject before I eat my own arm. The presents were great too. Every year, Grandmother Irma would buy us diamonds, the number depending on how old we were. That was probably the best bit about being the eldest. I always had more diamonds than them. But she stopped after we became of age, so I suppose we all have the same now. But it was nice to rub in Drommie and Cissy's faces anyway.
Then there'd be a ball… huge ice sculptures that didn't melt, not even when the huge fire was lit. Oh bugger. Huge fire. Now I feel colder. Brrr.
Yes… where was I? Oh yeah… Christmas wasn't much fun with the parents, but after the feast they'd go off to the parlour to talk about incredibly dull things, so me and the others would go out and throw snowballs at each other, build snowmen, bury Regulus in the snow when he threatened to tell the parents Rodolphus and I were snogging behind a tree, go sledging…
There was this one hill about half a mile away from the house that we always sledged on. Sirius dubbed it the Hill of Bones. It was notorious for breaking bones. I broke a wrist, hip, ankle and two ribs, Cissy broke four fingers and her nose, Dromeda her leg, and Sirius both arms and a leg. Reggie didn't break anything because he was such a girl he didn't go down it. But then I broke his jaw, so we were even.
We'd ice skate, too. Cissy, for all the times she'd successfully walked around the living room with seven books on her head (much to Mother's delight, as Dromeda could only manage four and I just tipped them off as soon as she put the first one on me), could not balance on ice to save her life. She usually just clung onto my waist because I was bloody brilliant at it. I just steered her into a snowdrift. She looked so cute with her legs sticking up into the air and her head and torso lost in snow. Aww.
When we got cold, and wet and tired, we'd trudge inside and sit on the sofa in the room that the parents didn't know about and we liked to hide in. Drommie would make us all hot chocolates (her hot chocolate making is one of the two good things about her. The other is that she's not in my life anymore) and we'd sit and talk.
It was nice. The times before we had any worries. None of us were married, I wasn't a Death Eater yet, and if Dromeda knew the fat Mudblood she kept it to herself. I kind of miss those days…
Is… is today Christmas? I'll ask Bert. (Yes, I am on first-name terms with him now. I've known him for fourteen-odd years now, I think it's time.)
Oh, God. Today's Christmas. Merry Christmas, I suppose. And yet again, I'm alone. Well, not really: I have snow-Bella with me. She's so pretty. Just like her namesake. Merry Christmas, snow-Bella. I hope you get everything you wanted.
But, come on… I didn't even get a card. Not one single card. I've been in here for about thirteen-fourteen years, so that's thirteen-fourteen Christmases. What about Cissy? Couldn't she send me a card? From what I remember she sends every worthy Pureblood in Europe one, to 'up her social standings', whatever that means.
Am I no longer a worthy Pureblood? I'm a Black and a Lestrange, thank you very much, so if little miss Malfoy thinks just because I'm in Azkaban I don't deserve a card, she's oh-so-very wrong. I ought to give her a piece of my mind. See, this is what happens if you don't look after Narcissa properly, or give her rainbow lollipops. She gets out of control. She's very high maintenance. I bet Lucius… what am I saying? Lucius constantly showers her with gifts and expensive holidays… but he might have given her a rainbow lollipop…
Or maybe I'm no longer in Europe… ooh… now I think about it, Bert does have a slight American twang to his voice… oh, God! We're in America!! I swear America's meant to be sunny… pah. What a rip-off.
Maybe that's why Cissy never sent me a card. Maybe her owl died in the long flight across the Atlantic… I can forgive her now.
Anyway, Merry Christmas, parchment. Merry Christmas, snow-Bella, because you're just awesome. Merry Christmas, Bert, even though I don't like you and your hygiene is atrocious. Merry Christmas, Cissy, and thank you for at least attempting to send me a card. Merry Christmas, Roddy, I miss you. Merry Christmas, Dromeda, even though you are a traitor, but you still give me chocolate and make a mean hot chocolate. I could do with a hot chocolate now. Hint hint. Merry Christmas… err… Draco, I suppose, even though you threw up on my best red silk wrap when you was six months old. But you also threw up on Lucius, so I kind of like you. Even if I've never heard you talk and you're as blond as your parents. Ah, well, you're related to me, so there still might be hope for you… Merry Christmas, My Lord, and please come and get me soon. Please.
Merry Christmas… uh. This is where I realize just how depressingly short my list of people to wish Merry Christmas to is. Ah, well… a very un-Merry Christmas to Lucius (because I don't like you and you totally womanised my baby sister), Rabastan (TRAITOR!!) and… Dromeda's husband and daughter (Nymphadora, dear, your taste in hair colours is worse than your mother's taste in men and names)… Mother (see? I didn't end up in a brothel. I'm in Azkaban, ha)… Oh, God. This list is even shorter. You'd think me, of all people, would have lots of people to hate.
Oh well. Christmas is a time of peace and goodwill. I still feel the need to torture the crap out of someone, though.
About a week later.
Snow-Bella has melted and I think I have frostbite. My life is just a never-ending bundle of joy, is it not?
SUMMERISH, BUT WHO CARES ABOUT THE DATE? WHAT DO DATES MATTER? THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS IN THE WORLD THAN KNOWING WHAT DAY OF THE WEEK IT IS!!!
IT BURNT! MY DARK MARK!! I FELT IT! MY MASTER IS CALLING ME! HE'S BACK! HE'S ALIVE!! I KNEW HE WASN'T DEAD! HAHA!! I KNEW IT! HE'S BACK, AND ANYONE WHO'S EVER BETRAYED HIM (Lucius. Rabastan.) WILL PERISH! AND HE WILL REWARD ME, HIS MOST FAITHFUL SERVANT, BECAUSE I KNEW HE WAS ALIVE! I STAYED FAITHFUL!!
IN YOUR FACE, RABASTAN!
I was one of the only followers to stay faithful! I have endured, what, fourteen years of Azkaban now? I endured that for him, and now I will be rewarded! While others said it was blackmail, or the Imperius curse, or whatever, I admitted it! No… not admitted… said with pride. I am proud. I worked my arse off for the Dark Lord, and rose to be His Most Trusted, even though they all said a girl couldn't do it (Lucius started that off, which is a tad hypocritical of him.) But I did do it. I'm better than all of them at it.
He'll come for me soon. I know he will. And he'll reward me… oh God, how he'll reward me… he'll know what I've done for him, sacrificed for him. He knows I'd do anything for him, surely he must. He knows I… He knows I love him.
I do, I love him. It's a different kind of love to how I love Rodolphus. Sometimes, the way I love him borders on the way I love Cissy – platonic. Yes, I used to love him with all my heart, he used to be all I thought about. I used to doodle his name on my Transfiguration notes, for God's sake. But then I met the Dark Lord, and… well… now I love him with all my heart, and if I still took Transfiguration my notes would be covered in little hearts and Mrs. Bella… hang on, what is the Dark Lord's surname?
But he hates love. He'd torture me if he knew I loved him like I do. He might even kill me. But I'd be happy to die for him. It would be an honour, dying for my Lord. And dying by my Lord's wand… the honour...
But he won't have to know. I'll keep it to myself. I'll just be His Most Faithful… but still, all those times he requested for me at night… there must be something…? Just a tiny spark? He is still human, though he is more of a god, and surely he must feel something? How did he react when he found out I was in here? Sad? Indifferent? Or… happy?
I really shouldn't be crying. The Dementors will be flocking here like vultures to a carcass soon. But I can't stop. I can't. I can't stop loving him. It would kill me.
I remember when he decided to teach me the Dark Arts. I knew a few already, of course, but the things he taught me… before I knew him, I'd thought there were only three evil spells – the Unforgiveables. But he proved me wrong.
The first lesson was a month before my seventeenth birthday. I was terrified – who wouldn't be? – and I didn't know what to do, but he taught me, and I made him proud. And then… he rewarded me. And I loved him. I loved him so, so much. And I told him so. He just laughed and said I was a naïve little girl. I doubt he'd do that now.
He'll come for me. I know he will. He'll break down the walls for me, and then I will be reunited with my Master, and he with his most faithful servant. Master and servant will be reunited again.
Later. Why hasn't he come yet? Have I fallen out of favour? Gah. I bet Lucius has been bitching about me to him. DON'T LISTEN TO HIM, MY LORD, HE LIES!!
Rabastan's apologized. Ha. I knew I was right. I guess he's hoping I won't tell the Dark Lord he's been unfaithful, 'cos he keeps telling me how beautiful and perfect I am, and how much he envies his brother. I agree, of course. And flattery will usually get you everywhere with me, but when it's a choice between Rabastan and the Dark Lord, pfft, bye-bye Bastan.
Okay, Rabastan, serenading me is just a tad too much… seriously, stop… I'll get my husband to kick your arse… oh, he would…
But now I'm slightly worried, and not because my brother-in-law has just hit a note most dogs can't hear – my Mark hasn't burnt since. What if I never felt it? But… Rabastan felt it, so it must have burnt… but… what if he's disappeared again? I don't wanna spend another fourteen years in here!! I've only just survived these last fourteen years! And I have to think of the state of my hair when I've done 28 years… and I'd be so old!!
Wait… how old am I now? Let's see… I was 30 when I got here… so… JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!! I'M FOURTY-FOUR!!! HOW THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN?! Noohohohohooo!! I'm old! And Cissy's only forty. It's not faaaiiiirrr!!
I'm old. So, so old. I spent the best years on my life here. I hate Azkaban. I hate it I hate it I hate it. I want to get out of here!!
I really shouldn't have thrown a temper tantrum like a spoilt toddler on the floor. I think it might have marred Bastan's perfect impression of me…
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I know the bit where she felt her mark burn wasn't really funny, but I realized it might be quite hard writing certain parts of the book in here, because not very many funny things happen to Bella, so if I fail in humour sometimes… I tried to make the other bit as funny as possible, but I don't know if it worked :S
And I apologize if I made Bella sound a bit like Phoebe from Friends. I was watching a Friends marathon while I was watching this. Joey's adorable.
Thanks for reading all that AN crap. If you review, you'll get extra chocolaty goodies. x
