The Darkest of Marks

She sat in her corner, her body trembling from the cold. The simple grey robe that had replaced her million galleon ball gown back when she first arrived at this place did nothing against the winter air. The voices in her head had taken the place of her former high class friends and she herself, once the epitome of feminine beauty, now looked starved and deranged.

She did not care.

All she really cared about was him.

Her Lord and Master, the only man she had ever loved would come for her. The dementors had taken her precious childhood memories, her innocence and her happiness, but they could never remove the skull from her forearm. The Dark Mark. His mark. It was what kept her alive.

She closed her eyes and brought her lips closer to the tattoo. She could feel the dark magic it represented. She could almost feel him.

She could still remember the day she'd been made a Death Eater. She had knelt before him, her body still numb from the torture session that had preceded marking her as one of his. He had enjoyed the pain he caused her by burning the mark in her flesh. And she had enjoyed it, too, for when it came to pleasing him, there was no sacrifice too great.

She had flushed with joy and pride and he had leaned closer. Tenderly, he had brought her arm to his lips. For a miraculous second she had thought that he would kiss it, but he had only blown air on the throbbing hot skull, thus lessening her pain.

She did the same herself now, for the mark was clearer than it had been for the past fourteen years. He was back.

There was a thunderclap outside and she looked up.

The next thing she knew, she was herself again. There was no more cold, no more dementors and thousand upon thousand of memories rushed to her. In her twisted mind she was reunited with her parents, sisters, cousins and friends and on the rooftop of Azkaban prison she was reunited with the love of her life.

She still looked skeletal and rabid but the haunted look had disappeared from her now glittering eyes and she was beautiful in the moonlight.

Her arms outstretched she ran to him, laughing at the poor souls who had been idiotic enough to doubt him.

He had changed in many ways. He was no longer the handsome man she had known all those years ago, but his polite yet sinister manner was the same and the aura of dark magic surrounding him even greater than before. To her he was beautiful.

This time he grabbed her arm more forcefully, bowed his head and placed his lips on the mark, finally giving her the kiss she had longed for.

This was her reward for staying faithful and she screamed with joy, but on the back of her mind, where the remains of her sanity hid, she knew, that her love for him was no excuse for the state she was in and it broke her heart.

*The tenderest touch, leaves the darkest of marks, and the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts*

A/N: I was inspired by the song "Hardest of Hearts" by Florence and The Machine. I don't think it's a song fic, though. I guess it can sound a bit dramatic, but I can't help it. I'm such a Bellamort fangirl ^_^