A slight scowl crossed her face. Azkaban. She wasn't looking forward to that. "No, I haven't," she said shortly.
"Oh? She seemed perfectly nice to me." Before she had taken a branch to her head, that is.
Her eyes flew to his face, a bit startled, but her face didn't show it. She just looked at him sternly. "You want me to teach you?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. Potter's son. The son of the man who would kill her Lord, twice. A slow smile grew on her face, and she stood up slowly. "Unforgiving and firm in your beliefs. And why should I teach you?"