Light in the dark.

disclaimer: dude, if i owned Haryy potter, luna&neville would have ended up together.

She sighed and trued away from the cold black wall and her snivelling husband, Rudolfus, she mentally sneered, who stood behind it, only to face another, no matter which way she turned she was facing a wall, cold, black, almost mocking her, laughing at her, she hated it, she was so cold here, so alone.

She could take being alone, it was the perpetual dark, the dampness, the pure terror that radiated off everyone in this hell-hole. Except her. Never her. She was a Black, and a Black was never scared.

She tried to block out the moans, the screams, the groaning that came from the other prisoners. She scorned all of them. They were weak, some of them had been her a shorter time that her, and they'd cracked, each and every one, they'd lost it, gone crazy, not her, she was strong, she was powerful, and she had hope. Him.

Her husband pleaded with her, begged her to forgive him, she didn't reply, she never did, every night for the past 13 and a half years had grovelled, pleading, blackmailing, bribing her. She didn't care, what was he to her? Shed never loved him. Was she even capable of love? She didn't know.

It was his fault she was in here, not that she ever regretted it, no, she would do anything, anything, for Her Master, she was proud to be here, to suffer for Him, she alone was faithful when in trial, she had sworn her loyalty to the Dark Lord. Only her, she would be praised above all others when he returned, for she knew he would.

As Rudolfus plead she thought of how he'd given her in to the ministry, told the she was torturing him into not telling, and then collecting the reward money for any Death Eater brought in. she had never forgiven him, neither had the Dark Lord, after his most loyal subject had been shut in prison.

She pleaded guilty to several murders, and the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom. She'd heard they'd had a son. Nathan. Or something of the sort.

But she was not so disgraceful as to drag the pathetic excuse of a man into it, but he'd been caught eventually.

Then she'd been shut in here, and she'd been fine, the dementors rarely bothered her, even though she was in a high security cell , she had grown immune to them after the first few days, but sometimes they'd creep in on her and shed be forced to relive those memories. But she held her tongue. Always.

And then she'd though of him, she placed her trust in him, and she was sure he'd come for her, his most loyal, but he did not, but she never gave up hope. "He'll come for me" had become her mantra.

And then she'd gotten the news, that Minister, had been in, and was telling one of the guards that the Potter parents were dead, but the boy, the blasted boy survived. And with his survival, became the –temporary disappearance – of her master. She refused to believe he was dead. He couldn't be. He would come back. For her. She knew it.

How she hated that cursed boy. The Boy Who Lived. Ha, he would die, she would make sure if it, if He did not come she would find a way to escape, like her dear cousin. Sirius. Oh the goody-goody Griffindor. She loathed him too. He was the boy's Godfather for Merlin's sake.

She looked around her as she mused over the Boy and her blood traitor cousin, and noticed a strange, but not unfamiliar, chill fill her, her eyes snapped to her cell door, standing there she saw on of those things floating there, its black cloak covering its body, noting showing but those eyes, those eyes that haunted her nightmares'.

She shivered, and looked away, her eyes focusing on the ice that crept into the room , and she refused to succumb to the dark memories that filled her mind, attempting to overtake her mind, and eventually they did, she knew it wouldn't leave until she let it feel her fear.

She was kneeling at her master's feet, she had gone muggle hunting without his permission, and now she would pay, that she knew. She said no apologies; they would not help her now.

Her master shooed the others from the room and the door banged behind them. his pale , spider like fingers cupped her chin and brought her eyes to his, they were beautiful , and she tried to move away from them, she felt unworthy, she should not have the right to look at his perfection, not after what she had done.

He let go of her and sighed. "Bella…" he shook his head. "i am a merciful Lord, and you are, not that I'd ever tell, my favourite, my most loyal. I will not punish you." She started muttering her thanks and her apologies now, but he silenced her.

His face was right beside hers now, his hand grabbed her face roughly and he hissed in her face "but if you ever disobey me again you will pay the consequences. Do you understand me Bella?"

She nodded and let her head fall, her curls covering her face from his sigh , he didn't like that, but said nothing. He watched as her shoulders shook with sobs of relief and gratitude.

She pulled away from this memory you, it was her worst, seeing her masters' disappointment, and she wished he had killed her, she deserved it. But he had not, and she was forever grateful.

She shook her head and pushed the memory away, trying so hard to forget the time when she was young and foolish and took her power for granted.

She looked about and she was alone, her husband –soon to be ex, she was divorcing him, A.S.A.P – was screaming in the next room. She shook her head, slowly, almost disdainfully, she had no sympathy for him, he was weak, too weak. He deserved this, it should have made him stronger, and more like Him.

But sadly not.

The screaming stopped and the chill receded from her presence completely, and she gave a small sigh, she hated them, they were horrid, she hated what they made her see, made her remember, made her feel. She felt weak

And Bellatrix Black was NOT weak, she was a strong and proud individual, and she would bow down to no- man or woman, apart from him, her Lord.

She got to her feet, almost stumbling off her bed and walked to the one window in her room ,it had only bars , two of them , no glass, and wondered, just in passing if it couls be counted as a window?

She shook her head, as if to rid herself of such immature thoughts, and her hair once so beautiful and vibrant, now lay limp ad greasy at her sides, half way down her back.

Her long pale fingers curled around the two centre bars and her eyes, grey and dead, stared out from between them into the dark abyss.

The waves were crashing against the side of her prison, hard and strong, and the mist could be felt from her room on the fourth highest floor, it lay in a light layer on her dirty face, now gaunt and her eyes closed as she savoured the feeling.

She imagined she was somewhere else, He had rescued her, and together they had stormed Hogwarts, the were now standing on a cliff , overlooking the lake, so still, just one ripple was coming from right below them.

As she stood there , the most serene smile on her face, the one she only wore in His presence , or when she had just killed. Right now she had both.

He whispered words of praise to her as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, he heart was beating erratically, and her chest was heaving with her ragged breathing, as she received this highest honour. His praise.

There were other voices in the background; she paid them no mind, none of them mattered, only His.

Her Lord. Her life. Her Love. Her master. Lord Voldemort.

His hand lay on her shoulder as sure as Harry potter's body now lay at the bottom of the lake. By her hand no less. And her was so, so, happy with her. He was telling her how much he adored the gleam in her now lively eyes as she murdered his enemy. She sighed in pleasure at pleasing him. It was what she lived for.

A particularly large wave caused her to jump from her daydream and she growled at the sky, cursing nature for interrupting her fantasies.

The sky was dim tonight, and the air was cold. The North Star shone, the brightest thing in the sky tonight, as there was no moon.

Her mother had always told her never to trust the moon, never look to it for guidance, as it was inconstant, and therefore, unreliable. Her proof for this was he grandmother, who and looked to the moon phases, and it lead to her early death.

No, her mother had said, trust the stars instead, as they are always there, day or night, even when they are unseen, whether hid by the sun or the clouds, they are there, and they will guide you. Your light in the dark.

Personally, Bella thought her mother was talking a load of codswallop, not that she ever told her that.

Her light was coming soon. She could feel it. Her mark was becoming darker; he would soon be with her. Even the thought made her giddy. She held onto this knowledge.

As she squinted into the darkness, into the distance a flash of white light flew into the sky, and exploded into the shape of a skull and slowly a snake came slithering out of the mouth of it.

She sighed and a beatific smile graced her face and she fingered the exact copy on her left arm, and as she touched it she felt it burn, and she whispered the word that someone, somewhere, had spoken to create the beautiful sight before her. "Morsemorde"

It sounded like a prayer, or something spoken to a lover, the way it fell from her lips, as if it were meant to be there.

The Dark Mark, Her light in the dark

Well , i hope you liked it, if you did review, if you didn't review anyway , and tell me why.