This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. . All characters are those created and owned by Rowling and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of Harry Potter. The stories I tell here are for entertainment only and are not part of the official story line.

She looked oddly similar to how she did on her wedding day. The same pale face, deep sunken eye bags and high cheekbones. Almost ghost like. She had died twice. Once when the vows were signed and again when she was imprisoned, but now she was free. The wedding ring still grasped her finger, a brand of gold stuck fast forever.

"Bella! Bella!" her husband was shouting.

She rolled her eyes and pushed her dark curls back into a ponytail. Sixteen years in prison just meant sixteen years of peace as far as she was concerned. When she returned she couldn't promise she would protest. There was a sound of thumping on the stairs; he was coming up.

"There you are" Rodolphus chuckled.

Bellatrix didn't turn to face him; she wasn't a child who needed to be found. She could hear the floorboards creak as he moved closer towards her and felt his chin press against her shoulder, he hadn't shaved yet. She could snap or push him away but somewhere inside her she knew he was only trying to find love in a loveless place. She should have kissed him but she didn't have to, there was no one there to see it.

"Remembering our wedding day?" he asked looking down at the framed photo in Bellatrix's slender hands. She didn't reply, only setting the picture face down and leaving for her room.

The mirror on her dressing table was thick with dust; she swept it away with the end of her sleeve. Her mother once told her that the little pieces of fluff were fairies. She could be seen in the cracked glass of the mirror in Bellatrix's eyes and nose and tight curls. Quite a terrifying notion. Her mother was the puppeteer behind her life- the wedding, the crimes, her lost sister.

Bellatrix sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose; if she could go back in time she would change a lot. She wouldn't always be an obedient child, she had learnt the hard way that adults weren't always right. It was her mother who convinced her to drop out of school at sixteen and marry. Out of blind fear of loosing everything the vows were said. It wasn't fair, least of all on Rodolphus who had to put up with her everyday. The aim was to have three boys by the time you reached twenty- she didn't know whether to laugh or cry about that, needless to say she had reached the age of forty childless.

It might have been quite nice to have a child. Yet there was a fear that she would be destined to do a shameful job of parenting, she didn't have the best example. She wanted a girl though- so she could do all the things Bellatrix didn't, couldn't, should have done.

She could hear movement from outside the window; it sounded like the ministry preparing to lock her up again. She could run. She didn't. The house was starting to feel like a prison with it's damp walls and iron rimmed windows. Life had trapped her wherever she went, her dark eyes stared out of the mirror and looked almost evil. Maybe it was fate- the Evil Queen was always defeated.