Story: When Everything Changed

Summary: Something inside begins to protest her actions causing Bellatrix to question herself and those around her. How will her world as she knows it be affected? BL/HG

Rated: M

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything. I am merely borrowing the characters to play my own little game with them.

A/N 1: Italics are a flashback. Also ** before a new paragraph after a break indicates a scene change. While xx means skipping further into that scene. I just wanted to clarify. Please let me know if these symbols aren't showing up.

A/N 2: Though I have edited this more than once I am sure there are still mistakes. This is unbetaed and all mistakes are mine.
_

Bellatrix's POV

Two voices whisper in the dark. Hands grasp the battered cloth around my body wrenching and tearing it before tightly grasping my arms and dragging me up. Ire threatens to rupture my suffocating flesh allowing the monster to slither from my soul to collect its pray. A blood chilling cackle rings in my ears, and wraps around my throat.

I thrash against the binds holding me causing my body to tangle with others. My fingers tear at flesh and shred at clothing. Razorblades run down my throat struggling against the oncoming sound. Hollow laughter fills my ears and drowns insane pleas and clanking of chains.

Light sears against my skin and claws at my eyes. I clamp them shut and beg the iron hands holding me to release me. Dropping to the ground I struggle to breathe through the noose around my neck. Raising a shaky hand I run my fingers along the ghost rope. Tears scorch down my cheeks leaving scars in their wake. My fingers dig into the earth beneath me. I blindly search for the chains binding me, but no traces of the apparition remain. Crumpling into myself the rough fabric of my clothes grinds against my face tearing away the flesh of an unrecognizable person.

The air that rushes to my lungs holds a distant familiarity. I choke and sputter on the icy necessity and it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Nails rip apart my lungs removing the only lifeline that keeps me here.

An arm circles my back and tugs me into a safe embrace. Thick brown curls tickle my face and the smell of baby formula and vanilla swirls in front of my nose. I bury my face deeper into the genuine warmth. My tears are captured by the net of hair in front of me. Hands rub my back soothingly and the soft voice of Andromeda whispers reassurance in my ear.

Shrugging off Dromeda's arms I hide my face behind a veil hair to allow myself time to hide my tears and gain composure.

Clearing my throat I glance over at the other figure. Narcissa is standing by the prison door. Her arms are folded across her chest in protection as her mind wanders out at sea. The distance between us screams of times she has cared for me as I destroyed the world around her.

Standing I cautiously approach her. Her pain stabs through me like basilisk fangs oozing the poison of a million defeats in the wake of my malice.

In an attempt to redress the chasm of agony I have carved into her soul I place a shaky hand on Cissy's arm.

I observe the blood trickling from her split lip leaving behind a tale of abandonment and disappointment. When her blue eyes meet mine they pierce me with confusion. Silently she demands answers and comfort I could never give her.

Her sudden movement rips my eyes from hers and I watch as she rubs her wrist in an attempt to erase the claw marks that have shredded her delicate skin.

I open my mouth to apologize but my words expand in my throat. Narcissa gazes at me with a bitter smirk placed firmly upon her face before returning her attention to the sea.

"Bellatrix?" Dromeda asks quietly.

Slowly turning my head invisible hands clamp around my neck.

The flesh around Dromeda's eye is the color of ink and a handprint decorates her perfect face.

The fingers crush tighter around my throat collapsing my airway before disappearing into the howling sea.

"What?" I mummer with a beaten voice.

"Where do you go?"

"What?"

"When Azkaban gets too hard. Where do you go in your head?" Dromeda's eyes scream of her sadness.

I shrug.

"Wherever it is," Cissy says. I turn to her and watch the clash of emotions slaughter each other in her eyes. "You need to stop."

"I can't." I admit.

"You don't have a choice," Narcissa says. Her voice is full of fiery warning.

"I can't…"

"Hermione asked me to give this to you." Dromeda interrupts handing me a worn book while shooting a warning glance in Cissy's direction. A smile creeps onto my lips.

"How is she?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard from her in over a month," Dromeda states.

"Then how did you…?" I begin to ask motioning toward the book.

"Minerva. She says Hermione is as good as can be under the circumstances. I'm not sure what that means."

I nod as my chest tightens. The jagged edges of my teeth rip away at the tender flesh in my mouth. Closing my eyes I attempt to elicit memories from Hermione's visit. I can hear myself pleading for her to leave. I can feel the raw fury licking my skin and warm liquid dripping from my fingers.

I pry my eyes open as the blood ruptures from my heart drowning me in terror. Shakily inhaling I sketch a mask onto my face.

"How are Tonks and Draco? What about Teddy?" I ask.

Cissy and Dromeda recall events with their children since I talked to them last. I struggle to listen to them as my mind wanders to Hermione. Minerva has always been good at sugar coating things to protect others and I wonder what she is hiding. What have I done?

"Are you ready?" Cissy asks.

I nod. We walk up to the doors of Azkaban and I take a deep breath as we come to a stop. Cissy and Dromeda wrap their arms around mine. I know that they are preparing themselves.

"Wait," I say as the doors open.

I fish the book Hermione sent me out of my pocket. Opening it I begin to read. I try my hardest to block out the screams around us and allow the words to create a picture in my mind.

When we are back in my cell I refuse to take my eyes off the pages. I feel faint kisses left on my cheeks, but I don't bother to respond. I'm gone.

**
The screams of the lifeless infant resonate through the cell begging for a chance to live. The little girl screeches the act of betrayal to the crashing sea surrounding us. My head falls to the side landing on the bundle of blankets. Protruding from the sheets tiny porcelain hands are tainted by crimson oozing from the organ beating and sputtering in her tiny fingers.

A sharpened stone slices through my withering skin and hollow cavity before rupturing through the brittle bones of my chest. Red plasma spurts from around the spike before it recedes and reinserts itself through my empty shell.

Gasping I choke on the blood rushing up my throat and flattening the barricade of air. Sputtering, the warm fluid runs blades along its path. The liquid bubbles from my nose and claws at my remaining flesh.

His cold voice rings through the cell and his green tinted skin clouds my view. His razor teeth sparkle at me as my child's eyes scream down at me from his arms. I watch the wand pointed between innocent eyes.

Scales rupture from my raw muscles. Fangs pierce against my crusty lips, and a deafening screech fills the air followed by the gushing of blood hitting the floor as I launch off the stone. Claws tear at the floating green face. As his sordid flesh is removed in chunks the face of an untainted boy is revealed.

The world goes black. I am suspended in time; tossed and turned by insane screams.

Warmth washes over me and a sharp breeze lashes at my tender skin. Opening my eyes I find myself hovering above the ground paralyzed.

Minerva is standing over me with a strict expression on her face.

"I'm going to drop you now."

With a thud I hit the ground. I push myself up on shaky limbs. Dirt sticks to my wet hands. Looking down I find blood smeared across my fingers and flesh beneath my nails.

"I…I'm sorry…I…" I stumble backward.

"I'm not the injured one," Minerva states coldly.

"Wha…" Glancing down I find deep gashes in my arms and chest.

My body is shaking against the wind. Looking up I find Minerva staring at me with a hardened gaze. Her jaw is locked tightly. Fear runs its sharp nails through my system at the distant fury I discover within her emerald pools.

Taking a deep breath I meet Minerva's eyes. "How are you?" My voice quakes as each word plummets to the ground before me.

"Talk to me" Minerva's words freeze the passageway to my lungs.

"What do you mean?" I sputter through the bitter cold.

"What was happening in your mind when I came to get you?"

"I…" Hanging my head I push the dirt around with my bare feet. The words are on the tip of my tongue bouncing up and down on the cracking surface begging to be told. Pleading with me to let their meaning free in order to plague the mind of another.

Minerva's hand clasps around my wrist like a shackle before dragging me to the side of Azkaban.

"Why did we move?" I ask as I twist my wrist in her grasp.

Her eyes are like an unforgivable curse ricocheting through my body before they take control of my mind leaving me exposed.

"There has to be a minimum of two people when you are brought out of your cell just in case something goes wrong. There is usually at least one impartial auror unless the ministry cannot spare an auror when you are scheduled to be let out. Now talk to me."

"Why am I let out and the other prisoners forced to stay in their cells?"

"That's not important at the moment. I need you to tell me what was happening," Her voice is a stone wall blocking out any emotion I could possibly detect.

"Did I do something to upset you?"

"You need to talk to someone Bellatrix, and I am offering to listen."

Frowning I look away from her. "I don't remember."

"Don't lie to me."

The tears sting as they leak into the cracks of my dry, tired eyes. A sob expands in my throat protecting me from the words that could escape, and a scream of raging frustration threatens to explode in my ribcage. Blackness crowds my vision. I shake my head violently knowing the darkness only unleashes the demons possessing me onto others. Biting my lip I wait until the metallic liquid gushes from beneath my teeth.

"What happened to you, Bella?" Minerva's tone is kinder than before.

I meet her eyes and the first tears claw their way over my lashes and sink their teeth into my skin. Opening my mouth my words come out as a strangled cry.

"He, he made me…" I choke out. "He made me…"

I claw at the wall behind me searching for something stable as my body begins to quake. It is not long before pieces of me begin to break off and I crumble to the ground.

Minerva places a strong hand on my shoulder. "I'm here."

"He…he…I…"

"Don't tell me, Bella. Not yet. "

Relief drowns me. I try to claw my way to the surface, but it overpowers me as it mixes with my agony. My legs snap beneath the weight and the stone wall of Azkaban shreds my back as I begin to fall to the ground.

Frantically I reach out and my hand curls around the velvet fabric of Minerva's robe. I cling to the cloth tightly as it threatens to rip and let me sink to the bottom of my emotions.

Opening my eyes I catch a glimpse of a blurry face. Minerva slides her arm around my back. The action is firm and reassuring. Tentatively I grab onto her shoulder and force myself into her embrace.

An animalistic cry is wretched from my lips as my body trembles and my memories crowd into my tears and force their way out of the skeleton that has replaced me.

Minerva tightens her hold on me. Her hand soothingly travels back and forth on my back as she patiently waits out the storm.

My vision is overpowered with images of my daughter and images of the Dark Lord's face peeling back to reveal a young Tom Riddle. Hermione skirts her way into the picture before she is hit by a green light and her lifeless body crumples. The images distort and disappear as my mind is filled with a high pitched cackle.

A weigh smashes into my brain. My eyes dart open and I breathe deeply before letting go of Minerva.

She holds me at arm's length and examines me. The only exterior traces of my flirtation with insanity are the tears that remain firmly planted in my flesh like rose thorns.

Minerva sighs. "I have to go. I'll be back to get you in a few hours."

"Okay," My voice grates through my throat and rips away the flesh on my tongue.

She pulls me into another hug before walking to the front of the prison and apparating.

Cautiously I walk on splintered limbs to the decaying tree and slide down its rotten trunk before turning my attention to the sea.

xx

The soles of shoes crunch against the ground shaking me from my trance. Turning my head I discover Minerva. Standing off to the side behind her is Hermione.

Hermione's delicate hand is gripping Minerva's arm, and her other hand is holding a pensive tightly. I take a shaky breath; nervous at what the object implies.

Standing I push around the dirt with my toes. I'm uncertain of how to greet them. Hermione's expression, though schooled to mask her emotions, has failed to extend the barricade to her eyes and there is a fear prominently dancing within them. Minerva's expression, though kinder than earlier, is countered by her protective stance.

When they reach me I glance up. "Hi," I say quietly as my eyes land on Hermione.

"Hi," She replies at an equal volume. "I um, I brought this," She says holding up the pensive, "If you still want to. We don't have to."

"No. I want to. Where do you want to…?"

"In your cell."

"No, Hermione." Minerva says sternly. Guilt pools in my feet and begins to fill my body before overflowing. The emotion is only intensified by the fact that Minerva knows what I have done.

Hermione turns to Minerva. "We have to. Jones is already watching our every move."

"He knows you have the pensive. You can go over to the corner of the building."

"He can't confirm what it's for at the moment. This could ruin Bellatrix's chances of a trial. Please, Minerva."

"I can distract Jones."

"Bellatrix will be okay, because she'll be distracted. Won't you, Bella?"

The hazel pools that pierce me are so loving and plead me with trust that comes from unknown depths.

"Yeah. I'll be fine."

"I suppose," Minerva says sighing.

"Thank you," Hermione says as she leans into Minerva's side. "You can stand right outside the cell if you want, but we need privacy for this."

"I understand. But if I hear a single thing wrong even in the silence and I will come in."

Hermione smiles lightly and kisses Minerva on the cheek in thanks. My skin heats as needles embed themselves in my skin due to the small display of affection.

Subtly I allow my eyes to flutter shut and I shake my head to rid myself of the sensation.

"Are you ready, Bella?"

Opening my eyes I smile weakly at Hermione and follow her and Minerva into Azkaban. Hermione and Minerva effectively keep my mind occupied by informing me of the events taking place in the wizarding world. Hermione is telling me about her search for the Death Eater De Hoven when we reach my cell.

I follow Hermione in. Cautiously reaching out I grab her hand, but when our skin connects she jumps so I let go.

She sits on the floor and I sit next to her aware of the space between us.

"I thought that maybe you could use Legilimency to see things that you are curious about so that you're less nervous for me to see your memories."

"Okay," I reply quietly. I take a moment to clear my mind before searching for Hermione's. I can feel my magic strain against my body as it moves outward without the use of wand.

My mind collides with hers and I coax her to let down her barriers. Suddenly they disappear and the buzzing of a million thoughts and memories irritates my skull with pinpricks of sound.

Focusing on a stream of thoughts the image of Hermione sitting on the couch with her parents while Minerva hands Hermione her Hogwarts letter comes into view. Slowly I ease out of the memory not wanting to injure Hermione. I can hear a particularly clear stream of thought, which indicates recent events. Focusing I ease the memory into my mind and it swirls in my brain until I spin into the Minister of Magic's office.

Shacklebolt is sitting at his desk while Hermione towers over him. Static crackles before the sound sharply enters my mind. Hermione is begging Shacklebolt to release me from Azkaban. She hands him a list, but he tells her he can't risk letting me out, but makes a deal to allow her to visit me.

The scene abruptly shifts. Hermione is sitting next to Ron on the floor of Andromeda's sitting room. Teddy is roaming around on the floor babbling away. Hermione's eyes are sunken behind dark circles and her frame is frailer than usual. Weasley puts his arm around her and she sinks into him.

"Do you reckon we ever stood a chance, 'Mione? You know, if you never had feelings for Bellatrix."

"I don't know. Probably not."

"Yeah I figured, but I still hoped."

"Sorry."

"Who would you, you know, want to be with if you didn't like Bellatrix?"

Hermione faces Ron with a light blush tinting her cheeks. "Promise you won't laugh."

"No." He replies with a goofy grin.

She nudges him, "You have to promise."

"Okay, okay. I promise," He responds pulling Hermione closer.

The fangs of the monster slithering beneath my skin clamp down on my barely beating heart.

"Well it would probably be in the future, but Minerva."

The creature threatens to rupture my skin as it slithers beneath it. It licks the fire coursing through my veins, and whispers encouragement to release my rage as it coils around my throat.

"McGonagall! Blimey Hermione, how much longer where you going to wait before she turns to dust?"

"Ronald!"

"What? It's true! She's been teaching since before my mum and dad went to Hogwarts."

"The aging process for magical people is slower. You know that! Bloody hell! Why do you have to be such a git?"

"I was only joking," Weasley replies as he raises his hands in surrender.

"I know," Hermione responds.

The silence between them becomes charged as they stare at each other and a scream of rage threatens to shred my lungs.

Hermione tucks her head in the crook of Ron's neck. I am wrenched from the scene.

I find myself in the library at the Black Manor. Hermione is sitting with a book in her lap. The room smells of wood and must, due to the fact that the fire place is being used for the first time in centuries. A closer look at Hermione reveals that she isn't reading the book, but staring through it. Tears streak her delicate skin, and the red rim of her eyes enhances her hazel orbs.

I find myself again spinning through time.

This time I land between Hermione and Potter. Potter is berating Hermione for associating with me. Hermione's arms are folded over her chest and lips drawn tight. The ire in her eyes promises pain to their target.

There is an explosion of yellow light and Potter is on his back. Hermione is wearing a shocked expression and the last hints of yellow seep into her skin. She crosses the room and kneels down next to Potter.

I am ripped from the memory and tossed into my cell. Hermione is begging me to let me help her. I watch my eyes lose focus before becoming void of all emotion. I observe how my arm whips back and then rages forward to collide with Hermione's cheekbone.

Her head snaps and she stumbles backward.

I am placed in what I assume to be Minerva's quarters. Minerva is writing at her desk and Hermione is lying in Minerva's bed.

Minerva gets up and waves her hand extinguishing her desk light. She crosses the room and slides under the covers behind Hermione.

Hermione reaches out and drapes Minerva's arm over her waist. Minerva moves closer before whispering something in Hermione's ear.

My pulse tests the limits of my veins' flexibility as it throbs through my body reaching out and stabbing me with daggers of rage.

Releasing Hermione's memories I snap back into my cell. Tears have snuck their way onto my face, cackling at their rebellion.

Hermione is staring at me with wide sorrowful eyes. "Bella, I…"

The world turns to black.

I can hear a manic screeching reverberate through the cell. An ear splitting voice screams "You filthy Mudblood! How dare you think you could trick me! I knew it! You unfaithful little WHORE!"

There is something warm and soft beneath my fingers. Nails are tearing at the flesh of my hand. There is a straggled plea in the distance. It is too faint to make out over the cackling.

I am suspended in time as I fly backward across the cell. Hitting the other wall the blackness recedes and I discover Minerva hovering in front of Hermione.

When Minerva turns a furious gaze on me I note the red handprint around Hermione's neck.

I try to catch Hermione's eye to silently apologize, but her focus remains on the floor as she gingerly places a hand around her neck.

Minerva wraps her arm around Hermione and leads her out of the cell.

"Minerva!" I cry.

She turns to me while ushering Hermione out of the entrance to this cage.

"All I need is a new book and it won't happen again."

"What you need Madame Lestrange is to ask for your trial," She replies before leaving.

**
I stand outside. The wind whips my hair as I wait.

With the sound of approaching footsteps I turn toward my visitor.

"What would you like to speak to me about Madame Lestrange?"

"Bellatrix, Minister," I correct as Shacklebolt comes to a stop in front of me.

Staring him straight in the eye I state, "I want my trial."

I know the end gets a little choppy and possibly confusing, but I purposely wrote it that way to accurately be in Bellatrix's mindset. I also know the update is shorter than usual, but I wanted to stop writing from Bellatrix's POV after this point.

I hope you enjoyed :)