This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Word Count: 807

Title: Misery Loves Bellatrix

Note:

Warnings: Torture, madness.

Golden Snitch

[Name] Crissie

[School] Uagadou

[House] Ogyinae

Ollivanders: 10–11 inch: Write about a Slytherin character.

Hogwarts

Assignment 5: Defense Against the Dark Arts- Task 3: Set a fic in Azkaban/prison

Yearly:

Prompt 3 [Word] Aloof - not friendly or forthcoming; cool and distant. / conspicuously uninvolved.

Word 171 [Word] Hallucinate

"Nooooooo!" She screamed as she watched Voldemort disintegrate. An Auror took the chance and hexed her into a body bind. Remus was the one who levitated her frozen body, and they took her to her old cell. The hex had lasted for twenty-four hours, and they wanted to make sure she got subdued long enough to transport her body to Azkaban.

There had been no doubt in Bellatrix's mind that Voldemort would win, and watching him be defeated again became one of her worst memories. She always had hope before the last time she had gotten stuck in prison, but nothing could have prepared her for watching her master lose to a child, with her own eyes.

They put her in the cell where she had was held the first time Voldemort disappeared, and where it appeared, she would spend the rest of her life. When the hex wore off, she saw the familiar surroundings, the Dementors outside her cell, making her relive the death of her master over and over until she passed out screaming.

Every day was the same routine. She would wake up for breakfast, eat, then the Dementors would come to visit her around 13:00, and she would start envisioning the death of her master over and over and over. Weeks passed, months passed, and her shouting never stopped.

Eventually, the guards took her to cellblock D. It was mostly empty, so she didn't disturb the other inmates during their sleep. Not everyone had the same sleeping pattern as her, and they tried to be as accommodating as a Magical prison could be.

Eventually, she started to believe that she would once again be rescued. She stopped knowing what the difference between imagination and reality was. All she knew was food- it signalled the coming of a new day. One day she grabbed the plastic fork, and desperate to inflict pain, she stabbed through the bars, trying to get to the guards' eyes.

After that incident, she never got another fork, only a spoon, and she would take the plastic spoon she was given to scratch into the concrete, counting down the days.

Bellatrix wasn't sure how long the Dementors visited every day, but soon it became less and less often. Of course, she didn't know why. She didn't see the world had complained about inhumanity for prisoners. The minister herself- Hermione Granger had decided to remove the Dementors from Azkaban altogether and replace them with wizard guards. By that time, her food was rationed, and she was so weak she couldn't fight back even if she wanted to.

That didn't mean that Bellatrix didn't try, she wouldn't give up. She kept biting and scratching and making a fuss. She stopped seeing the Dementors, and all she thought was that perhaps she had been driven so mad by the memory of them that they needn't haunt her anymore. The guards remained aloof, whether she screamed or tried to attack and claw at them. It was clear they had no reason to fear her while she was behind bars.

She felt like her punishment was a daily cycle, for helping a cause she believed was right.

"Hey, you, Bellatrix," she heard a voice. But there was nobody around, and the voice sounded like her own. The voice echoed through her head, and it was her own voice speaking to her. Had she become so lonely that her mind was conjuring up figments of her imagination? If that was it, why did she hear her own voice, not her sister or husband or her Lord?

"What do you want from me?" She asked, turning around, looking for someone. The voice must be a trick. She saw nobody.

"Oh come, surely you recognize my voice, I'm you," the voice said.

"No, there is nobody here, your not real," she said in a panic.

"I'm real enough, don't worry about that," it replied.

"My master will save me, he won't betray his loyal Bellatrix," she said, trying to make it stop.

"For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first," her own voice repeated. It was like shouting in a canyon, but the echo had its own voice. Surely, she couldn't be starting to hallucinate? She wasn't going mad. Had she been in a cell that long?

"I trust my master; he will come for me," she said desperately.

"Oh come off it, don't be naive Bellatrix, you will rot in this place. Nobody will come for you, I am all you have," the disembodied voice continued.

"Stop, you don't exist," she tried again desperately.

"Who says that you do exist?" the voice echoed. Bellatrix covered her ears, but the sound was coming from her own head. There was no stopping it. It was only the beginning of what is to come.