Our Time or Yours? (A Bellatrix Lestrange Fanfiction)

Azkaban and Its Thoroughly Creepy Inmates

As Harry, Ron, and Hermione sidled along the grimy wall, low moans and hallow shrieks echoed in the cells and towers. As  Harry peered through the bars, he could see a fading Dark Mark of several of the inmates's arms. 

Ron walked up to one of them, who had previously been screaming, "I'm telling you! It was the Imperius Curse!"

Ron said, "Do you know where we could speak with Rodolphus Lestrange?"

"Aren't I good enough?"

Ron shrugged. "How much do you know about Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Okay, man, don't meddle in that shit. Just don't. It's seriously twisted. But yeah, if you really want to talk to him, can't imagine why, he's down the hall and to the left, third cell. He's a bit of a creep, just a warning."

The man retreated back into his cell.  Ron looked nervously between Hermione, who was wearing a determined expression,  and Harry, who looked queasy. Ron guessed he was probably thinking about why all the inmates had been sent here, because Ron was too.

"Best be moving, then." They hurried along a corridor, dimly lit, people shaking the bars on their cells as the three tried to avoid eye contact with any of them. 

"Cell three...cell three..." Harry muttered as he approached the bars. He cleared his throat and rasped, "Mr. Lestrange?"

A man, looking dingy and dark, who had probably, like Bellatrix, been once attractive, slowly showed himself.

"What do you want?"

"Anything you can tell us about your wife. Bellatrix."

Rodolphus Lestrange narrowed his eyes, and then said, "She's dead, isn't she?"

"Yes, I'm sorry."

He laughed sort in a harsh sort of manner. "Nah, we didn't love each other. We were friends yes, and I'm sorry to hear it, she was a good fighter. So I'm assuming Voldemort's gone too?"

"Yes. Why?"

Rodolphus didn't answer, he just looked rather blankly down at his left forearm.  Harry cleared his throat again and asked. "Do you think-Did she...ever make Horcruxes?"

"I don't know. She wouldn't tell me. She may have, but listen here, if she did anything of the sort, it was early on. I'm quite the sleuth I would probably have known. Maybe." He pulled Harry by  the collar of his shirt against the cell, and whispered through cracked lips, "You know her."

Alarms began to go off in the prison. One of the prisoners had no doubt reported them.

"Best be going, Potter, and so help me if I ever get out of this place."

"What?" Harry demanded. "If you ever get out of this place what?"

Lestrange smiled, a broad grin of maliciousness, his teeth rotten. "It ain't over, boy. He's dead, but his memory, his legacy." Then he started to laugh, and with one last look at Rodolphus, who was drifting back into his cell, still chuckling, Hermione pulled Harry away, and they disapparated.