She lay in the darkness, alone.
The suddenness of her awakening had frightened her. One moment, she was asleep in her bed after a family function dreaming about the eyes lingering on her stunning dress and impeccable manner and the next, she was here. 'Here' was somewhere in the dark, in pain, and confused. She didn't know what had happened.
There was nothing around to tell her questing eyes what had happened to her. She could hear the rumble of a storm outside, wherever this was. That was something at least, but the darkness was total. There were no candles, no lamps, no welcoming fire in a hearth, or even stars through a window that she was able to see. Granted, with the obvious storm, she wouldn't have been able to see any stars anyway. That answered that question in a rapidly growing list of queries.
Where was she?
The smell was cloying. That was the next sense to report in at the same time as the prickles of nerves trying to inform her of a rather uncomfortable position on what felt like a very hard floor. The smell was stifling, almost, with an odd scent that smelled of something she felt she should know but couldn't recognize. She found that it wasn't as important so much right now as trying to see. Tendrils of panic wavered in her consciousness but she felt her magic start to rally to calm her. It was sluggish, much like a good deal of her body. She could feel it trying to respond the same as her stomach muscles as she tried to sit up.
What was going on?
She found a rough stone wall to her right and managed to get it positioned just right lever herself up. Wait, shouldn't that be get herself positioned? What was wrong with her? Her mind felt muggy. There was a noticeable delay when she tried to change thoughts and it wasn't the same thing as that post-awakening muzziness. She really wanted a good cuppa or two and maybe some blueberry scones. Her stomach rebelled at the thought and she felt dizziness sweep over her.
What was wrong with her? Why did she feel so weak?
The original question asking where she was returned to her and so did the non-answer that somehow she was expecting. She didn't know where she was and that was scaring her. The last thing she could remember was playing a round of Exploding Snap with her sisters and gossiping about boys. Well, less gossiping and more comparing notes. Who had they been talking about so avidly?
She couldn't remember.
That in itself was worrisome. Her sisters had been their usual selves, one a bit reserved and the other a bit wild. Neither acted like her and that was okay. She wouldn't trade them for anything in the world and she loved them dearly. It felt like it had been years ago, but it wasn't. It was only yesterday.
Right?
The 'when' was something she couldn't answer either. She didn't know how long she had been here on this floor. The darkness neatly cloaked anything that could have told her how long she had been here.
A quick glance was much less than reassuring. There was no way to look around the room and see what she had to work with. It obviously wasn't her bedroom with the lush covers, the old bear that she'd had since she was six years old, the sturdy bookcase that had been passed down from generation to generation and held thousands of books in its long life of service. Besides, she had the most comfortable carpeting in her bedroom and this rough floor most definitely wasn't it.
The woman listened as hard as she could. It was creepy, since she didn't remember coming here – wherever here was. She wasn't bound and she didn't feel any broken bones or bruises on herself. She was hungry, so there must have been some time between now and whenever she last ate.
Her eyes narrowed. She couldn't remember what she ate last, or when. That was troubling, too. Surely one knew what the last thing they ate was, right? She wasn't that absentminded that she would do that – forget what she eat, really? There were far too many known ways for mischief or malintent to happen through what someone ate or drank. She remembered her father lecturing her sisters and herself about that. The seriousness of his expression had stayed with her ever since that day.
If she could get to her wand…
Wait, her wand!
The darkness was of course no help as she scrabbled around. She felt around blindly, a little too descriptively so for her comfort. That tendril of panic was buzzing in her head as she fluttered around in the dark and it wasn't stilled until she rammed her head into something hard.
Whatever it was, it hurt. Really hurt. She had head-butted like any common ram but with more feeling. In her case, the 'feeling' was pain and finally seeing stars.
It was a shelf of some kind. It was long, with some kind of thick fabric thrown carelessly around on it. Not wooden, but hewed rock. It as just as cold as the floor and apparently the wall she'd earlier used. The pain from that neatly supplanted her desire to find her wand. She hadn't had it very long and had promised both her father and mother that she'd take care of it, but the way her head hurt now that was unimportant.
Where was she?
The question came back to her without any more of anything resembling an answer as the first time she asked herself. The storm outside rumbled with the implacable sensibilities of an angry god from the Greek pantheon. After she was able to peel one of her eyes open from where she had screwed them both shut in pain, she looked toward the louder of the sounds from the storm.
There was a jagged window in the distance. She could only see it when the lightning outside flashed and outlined it. It didn't even look like any window she was familiar with but she was not in a familiar place to start with.
How did she get here?
Her memories were as unhelpful on this point as any other so far. Same for the question 'why?' She didn't want to ponder that, since she couldn't get out from wherever she was, couldn't see anything other than lightning, didn't how she got there or what to do to get away from here.
What, where, when, why, and how. Most of the questions involved in describing a situation. The only thing left was to ask 'who.'
That could be more than one person or group, she knew. Until she could either get out of here or find out where she was, there was no more opportunity to get that information than for any other question. That left the only thing she was sure of.
She carefully got up, fumbling around to make sure that she didn't ram her aching head into anything else. As it happened, she barely missed another shelf of some kind that wasn't any more soft than what had made her head ache.
Once on her feet, she stumbled to the window, tripping and falling twice over unseen obstacles. In the stark flashes of the lightning bolts outside that window she could tell that there were going to be terrible bruises. In fact, something might be broken, but there was no way to be sure other than the sharp pains going through her arms and elbows. Two of her fingers felt like shocks had buzzed through her hands.
She kept her feet, though, and presently found herself at the window. The air was cooler out there than wherever she was and the rain sloughed in. Where was she?
Bellatrix Black stopped wondering that question when she found the bars on the window. She stared at the immovable bars and wondered how she got there. A long wait standing there at the window revealed nothing to her.
The raging storm outside had no answers for her and didn't care at all.