"Come with me, Bellatrix."
She followed, as told. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body, she felt shivery, even though the night air was far from it. Just cool, everything was cool. She didn't know where he was taking her. He was a strange man, but she adored him, never argued. She knew his power, his strength both mentally and physically.
"Keep up, now. We don't want anyone finding us, do we?"
She kept behind him but close, followed him. Her feet were bare, still in her school uniform. A well fitted short and now slightly torn skirt and her school jumper on top, the warm fabric hung off her shoulders the slightest bit.
She was like a child. Her fingers grasped at the back of his robe, he ignored it, used to it now and she needed the comfort of holding something, just as a baby would. He didn't care, so long as she didn't try anything else without his permission.
Her nails had sunk into his robe as he made his way through the darkest parts of the castle, the only occasional moonlight through the large windows or open spaces their only source of light.
"Where are we going?" she almost whispered.
He was wearing a suit underneath the robe. She was shivering and knew she'd be colder when they got there. The only ounce of compassion he had for her, and for no one else turned him to pull off his robe and throw it over her. She said nothing, but smiled a little.
He was only a few years older than her. He still remembered the school well. They made their way to the third floor, through a few doors and to another room. In the room, there was a mirror at the end.
"I want you to do something for me, Bellatrix." He said in his cool, calm voice.
"Yes master?" she looked up at him innocently.
"Stand in front of that mirror and tell me exactly what you see."
She did as she was told; stood in front of it and for a moment, only saw her reflection. He stood behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders and made her take another step forward.
She looked at him as he stepped back, before at herself. The image had changed, suddenly. She looked older, her hair was shining and a glossy mass of waves, her heavily lidded eyes only made her look sultry and sexy. She couldn't be older than about 25, but she looked exactly how she dreamt. She was wealthy and beautiful.
"What's on your left wrist?" he asked, standing behind her, watching her. She might only be a girl, only 14, but she knew what she wanted, and he wanted to make sure what she wanted was what he thought.
She raised her arm, and in the mirror looked at her arm.
"A skull and snake tattooed into my skin. It moves, I'm guessing it's enchanted."
He knew there what she wanted. And it prided him, like a father for his daughter, like an owner for his pet.