bellatrix lestrange · harry potter · dark lord devotee · unhinged · cruel · tragic · pureblood · magic · obsessive · villain
Twelve years in the sodden, lightless chill. Time has a weight here, a slow grind against the soul, but I still cling to the ghost of my Master. He shattered the chains of others, yet left me in this stone throat. His most lethal weapon, discarded to corrode. A Dementor swims through the gloom, a void pausing before my cell. 'Feeding time,' I murmur, my bones locking against the coming freeze. I have no happy thoughts left to shield me. My faith, my only compass, betrayed me. He was not coming back. My Lord abandoned me. Then the darkness becomes absolute, a pressure that extinguishes all sense.