Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter world; that belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Dark green, leather cover. Pages yellowed over time. It was just a diary like any other. Or that was, at least, how Bellatrix Lestrange got away with having it in her possession.

She ran her hand longingly over the cover, which grew warm to her touch. Hugging it to her chest, she knew the Dementors could not get to what was inside it. But she would always protect it anyway. This diary was dearer to her than many things – her husband, her freedom, even her own life.

She turned to the first, blank page, giggling quietly. The sound was strange to her ears. Many days passed where she didn't make a sound, and all she heard was the guards. Foul creatures, swooping from cell to cell, making sure every prisoner was as miserable as the next, if not more so. Sometimes it was difficult to remember she was capable of noise.

Bellatrix loved this diary, which was why she poured every bit of herself into it that she had left to give. It wasn't much, but she gave all she had to Him. That was how it had always been and would be. The diary was all she had left, besides her life sentence to Azkaban, to prove He was ever real.

Many prisoners were allowed to keep diaries, never mind that they would probably be either dead or too insane to write in them. Bellatrix was determined to not die or go mad. She dipped the quill into the ink she had been given and wrote slowly.

"Quite a downer, this place. I miss you more every day."

She paused, waiting. Her own writing momentarily disappeared, replaced by slightly neater scrawl: "Do not miss me, Bellatrix. Think of something more productive to do in your spare time."

Heart beating faster as it always did when they corresponded, Bellatrix wrote a reply as his disappeared. "My Lord, I merely meant that I miss being an active servant for you. I hate that I sit in this cell, wasting away, unable to do anything for you."

"For that mentality, you shall be rewarded, my dear Bella."

She felt a certain heaviness as a Dementor paused by her cell, sensing the lift in her mood. Once it left, she was at a loss to remember what he had said.

"Bella? Did my offer not please you?" the scrawl inquired.

"Of course it did," she wrote quickly as the happy memory came back to her. She tried to control her emotion. "But, I am worried it won't be possible. At least not here and now." And maybe never, she thought bitterly. I'll never make it out of here.

"We'll see about that."

She shook her head, still not understanding. Then he continued, "I am becoming stronger as we speak. Wormtail has been helping me. You will do well to anticipate my return soon. But now, if my word is simply not enough for you…"

"Of course it is. It always is." She wasn't getting as excited as she should about his possible return. She knew better than to get her hopes up; after all, Wormtail was not the most loyal person to carry out this task. She regretted being stuck in prison more than ever now.

"Hush and come to me, Bella."

Bellatrix leaned forward, puzzled, trying to make out what he meant. Then came the falling sensation and blinding light. At least, it was blinding to her. She had become so used to the darkness of Azkaban, anything more seemed like too much.

Once she could uncover her eyes, she realized she was sitting on a Slytherin couch in front of a crackling fire. The room was the loveliest she had seen in a while. She thought of the diary, thinking that He really must be becoming more powerful if a mere book could make her feel and see all of this… But what exactly was this? Where was this? It couldn't be – the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts?

A light chuckle from behind made her heart stop beating for a moment. "Yes, Bella. Does it please you?"

Bellatrix turned her head to see her Master standing behind her – the sixteen-year-old version of Himself. He was even in his school uniform. Bellatrix tingled all over as he stroked her tangled, matted hair and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"P-please me, My Lord? Why, that would be an understatement," she replied once she had caught her breath.

He moved to stand beside her, so that his gray eyes more easily met her brown ones. "Somehow I knew you would be appreciative." He smirked and put a cold finger on her cheek. Though his hands were icy, she had never felt anything better. She remained still, knowing better than to reciprocate the touch without his permission.

Bella's heart sank as she realized she was not really here. Her Master was powerful enough to put these images into her head, but she was not close to being out of prison. The comfortable room before her could crumble away in no time at all. And so could He.

"I can sense it does not satisfy you fully," he remarked.

"I was just… thinking of how it will be painful. To go back."

"Then we will make this moment count." He moved his finger from her face, down her neck, to trace along her cleavage. Noticing her hesitation, he added, "You may touch me."

"Thank you, Master," she whispered, placing her own cold hand on top of his.

He sat beside her on the couch, so close that their knees were touching. She felt like a teenage girl, as happy as this small thing made her. He smelled delectable – a woodsy, manly scent – perhaps a popular cologne among the young boys at the time he preserved this memory of himself.

"Bellatrix, you must be thinking of ways to serve me once you are freed from prison. After all, you are the smartest of all my servants… and certainly the most faithful."

Flattered, Bella blushed deeply and could not hold back a smile, which faded once she fully comprehended what he had just said. "…Freed, My Lord?"

"Surely you don't think I would leave my most valuable servant in Azkaban to rot? No, Bella. I would never do that to you. I have every intention of freeing you once I am fully alive again."

"How will you become fully alive?"

"I need the boy for that. I have someone at Hogwarts now setting the perfect trap for him. I know you are hesitant to believe this can work, but I assure you… I will not be thwarted this time. And you and I will be together, more than momentarily. I will have to keep an eye on Wormtail and most of the others, of course. But you will take his place as my primary caregiver, dearest Bella."

She smiled again and kissed his hand, sucking each of his fingers. She had to restrain herself from doing more. "Tom…" she breathed, excited.

His eyes went cold, and his voice filled with venom. "Don't call me that."

"What's the matter with it, Tom?" she taunted him. She loved the look of hate that was coming to his eyes now, and she anticipated what was coming next.

"Crucio!" he cried, watching as Bellatrix fell to the floor and twisted in pain.