Bellatrix chose to wisely ignore Rodolphus. She simply did not know how to deal with this. She made it to the bedroom, and slowly began undressing, forcing herself to do it, rather than depend on a house elf. She went for her corset, and cursed. She simply could not unfasten it.
Tears welled up in her eyes. Why did he have to bring her back? She wasn't the same Bellatrix he fell in love with, or even the same woman who died. She was so soft, so bloody weak now. Bellatrix Lestrange did not cry, and yet she seemed to weep over nothing. She could barely care for herself.
She wished she had a wand, because at this moment she could have AKed herself. She was pathetic. Rodolphus deserved so much more. She stared at her face in the mirror, her red rimmed eyes, the wrinkes around her mouth. "Why does he even want me?" she whispered to herself softly.