AN: Written for round ten of ql with the prompts; specialty, onwards and "Stories of imagination tend to upset those without one," Terry Pratchett . I had to involve Wizengamot and decided to go with Bellatrix's trial for Frank and Alice Longbottom's torture

Word count: 912

Soon

There were about fifty wizards dressed in plum colored robes embroidered with a silver letter W slowly making their way into court room ten. They walked in small groups, closely knit together before quickly swarming into the benches surrounding the center.

There had already been a few hearings involving various death eaters over the past few days. Many members of Wizengamot were getting restless with all of the hearings back to back.

Two armed aurors stood towards the back keeping a close eye on the woman with the dark, wild, tangled hair who sat chained to the chair. She was staring at the wizards in robes. She closely watched them enter the court room together and as they sat on the court benches around her.

Watching them gave her something to do. It allowed her mind to wander to anything other than her trial that would be starting in a few minutes. She was already easily growing bored with each passing second.

She didn't care that she would most likely being going to Azkaban for her crimes. She didn't care that she would be locked away like an animal. She didn't care about any of it.

The only thing that mattered to her was her torture high. She could still faintly feel the sensation she felt from torturing those two aurors. Her fingertips still tingled; her body still shook with excitement. She was amazed that the feeling hadn't worn off yet.

She had been escorted to her spot by someone she hadn't bothered learning who it was. She was already bored, just wanted to get this over with already.

She knew what the outcome would be, and so did they.

Why the need for a trial, she would never know. Nor would she ever care.

She seemed to lose focus for a moment, lost in thought before coming to. A sharp voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, you are being tired for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom," Barty Crouch stated, calling the trial to order.

Tell me something I don't know, she thought as she held back a sigh. She continuously tapped her long fingernails on the wood of the chair she was chained to. She was trying to find something to occupy herself while she still had some of her sanity.

"The poor Longbottoms will be permanently incapacitated and stuck in St Mungo's because of this woman," an older man said.

"This woman is a menace to society, a danger to herself and to others," the woman she knew as Amelia Bones shouted. "She should be locked away."

Bellatrix smirked. Even when she was facing a life sentence and chained up did people fear her.

Excellent.

The fact that she could evoke fear into people just by being in the same room as them excited her. It gave her that childlike feeling she so desperately craved. It made her feel whole – even if where she was going, she wouldn't feel whole again.

"Would you care to defend yourself against these crimes?" Barty Crouch asked her.

Bellatrix cackled.

"Why won't she even bother defending herself," a female voice spoke. "Other death eaters at least try."

Bellatrix just sat there, staring at them. She wasn't going to give them what they wanted. Besides, why should she waste her breath telling them anything something they don't care to hear? It doesn't matter what she said, she was still going to Azkaban.

It still didn't matter.

"I know something you don't," she chirped in a sing-song voice.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, you are being sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban," Barty Crouch said, looking down at her.

Obviously.

She knew where she was going. She knew what to expect. The dark, cold cells of Azkaban - where people go but don't return. Not to mention, the soul sucking dementors stationed in and around the prison.

She knew all of this, but she wasn't scared. Nor should she be.

What reason did she have to be scared?

She knew, deep down, she wouldn't be in there for long. None of the death eaters going away would be. She knew Voldemort had a plan, she knew it wasn't over.

Not yet.

She knew that.

And soon, so would everyone else.

She was jerked out of her seat by the same people who escorted her into the court room. Soon she would be on her way to Azkaban and in a sick, twisted way, she couldn't wait.

She would just have to sit by for a while and wait.

Wait until the time was right. Until Voldemort was ready for phase two.

And then she'd be free again. Free to do whatever she cared to – torture and kill at her leisure. Get revenge.

"The Dark Lord will rise again! Throw me in Azkaban, I will wait. I'll wait as long as I need to! He will rise again and will come for me!" she shouted as they dragged her from her room. "He'll come for me first since I am his most loyal supporter!"

She knew they probably didn't believe her. Hell, who would believe a death eater who was just sentence to life imprisonment?

She giggled.

They didn't believe her now. But soon, soon, they would. And she would sit back and bask in it. The feel of knowing something no one else did yet.

She would bask in the fear they would have in their eyes.

Soon, everything would slowly fall into place.