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I burn

Soon you shall too

Bellatrix Black Lestrange
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The reporter looked nervously back at the guard, who stayed well away from the bars. Isn't he supposed to stay close?

And what was he afraid of, anyway? The woman in the cell wasn't doing anything.

She stood, hands behind her back, against the far wall of the cell. A new pile of clothing lay just within the door, untouched — perhaps that was what she was looking at.

Hesitantly, the reporter introduced himself and asked if she would grant an interview.

Bellatrix raised her head and looked at the man.

She didn't say a word; she only stared, unresponsive to the stutters and squeaks of the new toy in front of her. It looked to be a soft-hearted thing, weak and mewling.

After a few minutes, as the reporter motioned to the guard that he was giving up, she drew in a shuddering breath to grab his attention.

And she began to cry, silently letting the tears flow while remaining as still as a statue.

But still she would not speak or answer a question. Totally unnerved, the reporter backed away. His editor could come get the interview his own bloody self.


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This is a character journal for __lightning__