Most of the witches and wizards in Britain considered Bellatrix Lestrange to be mad. In fact, that was probably one of the kinder adjectives that would be used when describing Voldemort's ruthlessly vicious attack dog. Sitting in her cell in Azkaban, Bella's madness was still nursing a massive grudge against her cousin - a cousin Bella swore she would slowly and painfully torture to death first chance she got.
Bella had waited years for the right person to come along, and then he was there. Donald Carrick was probably the biggest dick on the planet, and Bella wasn't speaking in an anatomical sense here. The prick was so full of himself, she'd been able to slowly manipulate him into getting ready to forgo all the Azkaban security precautions and enter her cell. Donald was so stupid, Bella had him thinking it was all his own idea too.
Donald may be the first person, in over a decade of her trying, stupid enough to even consider entering her cell, but he certainly wouldn't have been leaving it alive. He had been Bella's ticket out of this shithole, she was so close Bella could almost taste her freedom, and then that bastard Black only went and beat her to the punch.
No one could figure out how Black had managed it, so all the security arrangements within Azkaban had been immediately changed and upgraded - including the guards. Her one shot at getting out of here had been snatched away from Bella's fingertips by Sirius fucking Black.
She was pulled out of her musings by a voice Bella thought she'd never hear again.
"Did you miss me, Princess? You've no idea the strings I had to pull to get back here. We have some unfinished business though that will make all that effort of mine worthwhile."
"Donald, how did you manage to return?"
"It was actually a rather brilliant idea of mine, if I do say so myself. I pretended to be such a shit auror that Bones the bitch went complaining to my Uncle Cornelius. He asked me what I wanted to do, and Bones was so gad to see the back of yours truly, she never raised an objection to me being transferred to the Azkaban guards. We'll need to wait a few weeks, until I can get put on the night shift, then I'll come calling on you."
"Donald, my husband is in the next cell…"
"Don't worry, Princess, I'll put up silencing charms. Wouldn't want anyone getting jealous, especially when he hears you moan and scream. Catch you later - it's not like you're going anywhere." Donald strode away, chuckling at his own joke. Had he looked back, the calculating expression on Bella's face would have told Donald the joke was on him.
She was well aware Donald wouldn't have to 'pretend' to be a shit auror, and that this boastful prick was desperate to put the name Bellatrix Lestrange at the very top of his list of female conquests. Bella had deliberately acted all demure and broken since they had first met, hoping to entice him into making the very move he was now promising to do.
Donald was of the opinion that he could easily handle her, and she had carefully nurtured that belief. He obviously thought his size and weight advantage would be more than enough to force the waif on the other side of the bars to do his bidding. Bella would do everything to encourage that belief, right up until she tore his throat out. If Donald Carrick was crazy enough to bring a wand with him into her cell then Bella could guarantee there would be moaning and screaming - it just wouldn't be coming from her.
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