BBMM.FDHG.BBMM.FDHG.BBMM.FDHG.BBMM.FDHG
LOCATION: Somewhere in the North Sea, Azkaban high Security Wing...
~ 1st November 1995 ~
~ Bellatrix's POV ~
Her laughter was loud and victorious as she watched the dementors retreat from the prison. Abandoning their posts in which they had revelled in destroying the inmates souls little by little for years.
It was time.
She could feel it, she could feel her lords magic in the air. Pulsing. Dark and foreboding to anyone else but feeling more like freedom to her than the dark witch had tasted for years. She could feel the excitement pulsing through her veins. Her own magic reaching out from where it had long lay dormant within her. Reacting to the call of her Lord as he came closer.
Came for them.
Came from her.
It was imminent, she knew. She had always known, trusted, believed, that he would come for them. Come for her. She had been loyal, she hadn't renounced him. She hadn't given up or pretended to regret her actions for a second. She hadn't done what her sisters poor excuse of a husband had, she had stuck by her morals, her convictions, her beliefs and she had been locked up in this awful place for it. Unlike Lucius, the disgusting, spineless little man that he was, who had lied about being imperiused and forced to commit crimes in the dark lords name.
He had got off free of charges while she and a select few of her peers had been sent away to rot. But it would be worth it. She was sure. As soon as she was back by his side, he'd reward her and Albus Dumbledore would pay. He would pay dearly for ever daring to lay a finger on HER witch. Her Lord would grant her that, she knew it.
She cackled gleefully as she felt the prison infrastructure shudder as the first spells hit the outside walls. A good old break out, she realised. Her Lord had come for them with force. He would see this place that she had been Imprisoned crumble and fall and he was going to free them. Free them from the shackles that bound them to eroded stone and damp bedding.
She would know warmth again. Or as close to warmth as she could get without her witch. She'd have clean clothes. Food. A bed. She would see her sister and her nephew. She would feel the breeze again. A breeze that didn't stink of salt and death.
Not that she minded the smell of death, she just preferred if she were the one to cause such a stink.
She felt the magic that held the prisoners at bay crack, felt the wards crumble away into nothing as the walls began crumbling and falling as if they hadn't just housed the most dangerous witch in recent history for the past fourteen years.
"Go and rest my loyal followers, we will convene once you are back to fine health" her lords voice commanded and she felt the relief sweep over her forcefully even before the chains fell away from her wrists and ankles. Finally freeing her completely as she stumbled to the edge of her cell, gazing out at the ocean in front of her. Dark clouds visible even in the gloom of night.
She glanced either side of her, flashing a grin that she couldn't truthfully say wasn't manic at Rockwood and Dolohov as they too made it to the crumbled wall of their prison cell. She could see the beacon of magic just outside that promised them a way off the island. The tell tale glow of a port key visible through the fog.
She stumbled forward still, falling the little distance from where her cell was to the rocky shore below before she picked herself up and moved as regally and as quickly as her malnourished and bruised body would let her.
Cackling the whole time.
She was free.
Albus Dumbledore would soon face her wrath and her Lord would see their world be restored in all its glory.
BBMM.FDHG.BBMM.FDHG.BBMM.FDHG.BBMM.FDHG
~ unknowns pov ~ 1st November1995 ~
LOCATION: Azkaban solitary confinement wing...
She couldn't help the pitiful wail she released when she felt the magic that had buzzed all around her for the past while disappear. Fading as fast as it had appeared. Her hope of rescue today being ripped away with it.
She was gutted, more than that. She was devastated. She didn't know how much longer she could take staying in this wretched place. Her limbs refused to cooperate now. Her body finally beginning to succumb to the gruelling environment around her. Her fingers and toes had long since gone numb. Her arms felt weaker with every passing day.
Albus had been in too that day, taunting her with how futile her hope was. Taking pleasure in seeing her struggle to sit up or speak. She had wanted to curse him, curse at him. She wanted to scream and spit in his face. Tell him of how he didn't have long left. That as soon as her Bella found out what he had done to her, to her child, to their family then their would be no place on earth he could hide from her dark witches wrath. That Bella would make him pay and she would take pleasure in watching her witch destroy him before Bella would laugh while killing him.
And oh how the thought of her witch in action would have turned her on to no end, if her body had the energy to react that is. As it was all she could manage was a disgusted glare that hurt the muscles on her face to keep up. She was so tired today.
Truthfully she had been so tired for weeks. With each passing day her baby didn't work out the connection between their minds her hope slowly shattered. It meant she had rested all her remaining strength on the hope her Lord would know she was here too, that he and her Bella would come to her aid. But the fading magic, the lingering taste of darkness that grew fainter with each breath she took had shown her just how futile that hope was. Only adding to the sting of Albus's taunting words.
He had laughed at her tiredness, the pleasure at seeing her fall evident in the cruel twinkle of his eye. If only she had remained faithful to him and the Potters he had told her, she wouldn't be in this position. He had insulted her child then. Told her that the world was better off without her. That any child of Bellatrix Black's was doomed from the time of conception.
That had he not interfered and taken her little girl he would have done the world a disservice because Bellatrix was incapable of love and she had been nothing but a traitor therefore her child would grow to be worse than both her mothers. Worse than the dark lord even and therefore getting rid of her was the best thing he had ever done.
It had made her blood boil to hear it. But now it all just made her feel desolate. Her mind was tired. Her body more so and the call of insanity was getting harder to ignore. She'd hold of. Merlin knew she'd continue to fight it for as long as she could. Though she feared that she didn't have much fight left in her.
It had been years, she had worked out it had been over eleven years, possibly more. That she had been locked up. When her mind had connected with her baby's she had seen the grounds of Hogwarts through her child's eyes. And that meant she was old enough to attend the school. You had to be eleven to attend and she was almost positive that her girl had been older than eleven based on the age of the other youngsters that sat directly around her. If she had to guess she'd say her baby was forth possibly fifth year and therefore it would have been around sixteen years she had sat her, in this cell. Sixteen years of torment and suffering. Sixteen years of fighting against starvation, the bitter cold and the dank, dark that infiltrated this place and it was exhausting. Every moment excruciating, more painful than any curse she had experienced and only made worse by the exhaustion she felt at the absence of her witch and baby.
As her mind grew hazy, she felt a sudden rush of emotion, grief, anger, hope, filter into her subconscious. Filling her with feeling she knew was not her own and as the tired fog that she had lived with for weeks finally slipped through her, forcing her eyes shut. She smiled. A tired, somewhat barely there smile, but a smile none the less as her last thought was the knowledge that even if her child hadn't figured out they shared a bond, it had grown in strength. So much so that she was positive that what she had felt was in fact her baby girls emotions. Something that could only happen if their bond was strengthening.
As sleep claimed her, her heart beat a little easier, her mind a little clearer as her previously shattered hope, flickered and reignited.
She still had a chance. She could still get out of here and she could see her witches once more.