Bellamort
Bellatrix felt her mark burn. He was calling her. HE was calling HER! She Apprated at Malfoy Manor and strode toward the large house. Lucius was such a pompous pig. White peacocks! Her sister had no taste in good pureblood men. She opened the heavy door to the dining room and saw him sitting at the head of the table, staring at his long, white fingers. "You summoned me, my lord?" Bellatrix purred. She stepped into the room and bowed her head almost to her bellybutton. "Yes, Bellatrix, my dear. Come closer," Voldemort syas, beckoning her forward with his pale finger. She strode toward him slowly, stopping five feet from him. "Yes, my lord," she says. "Closer," he says, beckoning again. She stopped at the arm of his chair. He stood up, grabbed her wrist and walks next to the raging fire. "What do you need, Lord Voldemort?" she asks, distracted by his hand on her wrist. "You, Bellatrix. I need you. I have been without love too long. Tonight, I shall be Tom Riddle and you shall be my queen," He says, pulling her to him and kissing her softly. She pulls him as close as she can and pulled him down to the rug. "My love, my lord, my Tom," she says.