There was blood covering the cheery wood floor, the smell of it, thick and metallic hung in the air, the scent of death and she revelled in it.
She was the angel of mercy now, the angel of death come to end the pain she herself had inflicted on the girl who lay bleeding out on the floor. The girl who in another world she might have found interesting, after all, she and the dying woman had much in common, they were both highly intelligent, well read, bright witches, both able to stand endurance far beyond their peers, only one fought for equality and the other fought to rid the world of what she deemed unworthy. So Hermione Granger laying dying at the feet of Bellatrix Lestrange.
It had gone on for hours, the torture, the screams from one, the laughter from the other until like any child with a new toy, Bellatrix had grown bored and she had taken great pleasure in telling the weakened younger witch this, signalling Hermione's life was at an end much to the distressed muffled screams of the ginger haired blood traitor gagged and bound to the chair a few feet away.
He was spotted with blood but it wasn't his own, Bella had made sure that the Mudblood shared her dirty blood, after all, blood traitors where no better than the filth she was about to rid the world of.
Ron Weasley's mumbled protests made the dark witch smile, the blood covering her hand where she held the equally blood stained knife dripped steadily onto the floor like a leaking tap, drip, drip, drip.
"What's that, pet? You know you really shouldn't mumble." Bella laughed at her own joke, and across the room a dark chuckle sounded in the shadows making the witch grin, shark like, towards the noise, the silent praise rising a blushing heat to her cheeks giving her an innocent glow that was a juxtaposition to the sight of her.
"Finish it, Bella." Came the voice of the owner of the dark laughter, cold, emotionless, calculating but seemingly not unkind when addressing her, a note of high amusement coloured the voice and Bellatrix flushed again at his tone.
"Yes master." Her own voice was a deep husked out purr, like she was speaking to a lover of beautiful things, but then to Bellatrix, death and destruction was beautiful.
The end was fast and merciful for Hermione, it must have been a welcomed relief for the already half dead girl, two shrieked words, a flash of green and it was done. Her lifeless body now staring unseeing at the high ceilings of Malfoy Manor. And Ron screamed against the gag in his mouth.
Lord Voldemort rose slowly from his chair, walking silently towards his first lieutenant where she stood wand in one hand, bloodied knife in the other, his own hand curled around her shoulder in what one might call an affectionate way, "I do enjoy watching you play, my dear." His lips were close to her ear and Bellatrix visibly trembled with what one might of mistaken for fear had it not been the way she looked at him.
"And I enjoy pleasing you, master." Was her silky reply, a loaded response that if Ron wasn't in a fit of grief he might of picked up on but as it was he did not.
"End him." The Dark Lord commanded of his most faithful servant and Bellatrix smiled again, a sinister sight of mock innocence as she stepped closer to the struggling red head and leaned down close to him, holstering her wand to wrap her elegant fingers into his hair, pulling his head back.
"Let's see how long the-boy-who-refuses-to-die LIVES without his little friends." The mocking tone in her voice was like honey coated razor blades and with one precise swipe of her blade across his throat, Ron Weasley was quick in joining Hermione in death, his pooling blood mingling with hers on the wooden floor to a choir of dark laughter.