Bellatrix LeStrange was shivering in her cell, the filthy rags just barely covering her, once beautiful body. The Dementors were constantly at her, gnawing at her tenuous grip on sanity. She had no idea how long she had been there, time didn't matter when everything was pain. She sometimes heard a voice that wasn't hers screaming in the night, and it sounded vaguely familiar, but then the Dementors came back, and it went away.