The necklace whispered to her from across the room. Beckoning her closer.
She knew she shouldn't, but she approached.
Carefully, with a reverence that should've disgusted her, she trailed her small, shaking fingers over the black gold, the onyx as black as her eyes and as soulless, too. A jolt of electricity shot up her arm, raising the hairs and prickling the skin where it passed.
Power. The kind that only Dark Magic held.
But it didn't burn; it warmed.
"Bellatrix! We're leaving!" her mother's voice snapped from what seemed a great distance away. Startled, Bellatrix dropped her hand and felt the warmth instantly drain from her.
Had Bellatrix's mother seen her touching what she wasn't supposed to, what Bellatrix knew she wasn't supposed to?
The firm pressure of her mother's hand as she dragged her from Borgin and Burkes indicated that she had.
To Bellatrix's unrestrained delight, the whispers followed her out the door.
A/N: This is the first in a series of drabbles (or maybe not all drabbles; depends what I come up with) from the POV of Bellatrix Lestrange. Be warned: they will get darker. As dark as I can make them while maintaining a T rating, in fact. There will be torture and murder, and perhaps even a sexual innuendo or two. If you can handle that, I think you'll enjoy the next few chapters :) In all, the story should span about six or seven chapters.
Did you like it? Dislike it? Let me know in a review! Constructive criticism is, as always, welcome and appreciated.