DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter

A/N: This is a one-shot of Bellatrix Lestrange. the twisted, sick witch.

Torture

Bellatrix wanted to do something with her life. But not any old thing: she wanted to become a Death Eater, to assist Lord Voldemort in his rise to power.

Life without Voldemort would be tedious. There would be no excitement in her life and she needed that to know that she was capable of feeling, of being human.

She knocked on the door of Malfoy Manor, intending to talk to her sisters husband. He was already a Death Eater and would be able to introduce her to the Dark Lord. The door was opened by a small house elf that went by the name of Dobby.

"Miss Bellatrix!" Dobby shuddered with fear: he knew how terrible she could be. She shoved past him into the hallway and asked, "Where are Cissy and Lucius?"

"They is in the drawing room, Miss Bellatrix. They is just having tea and they has a - a visitor." Dobby almost burst into tears with fear. She looked down her nose at him, disgusted, then left down the hall towards the drawing room.

She wrenched the door open, eager to speak with them, and said, "Lucius, I need you to introduce me to the Dark -" She stopped short when she saw who was sat in one of the chairs and gasped.

"So you are Bellatrix Black?" asked a high, cold voice. "And why would you want Lucius to introduce you to me?"

She had to force the words out of her mouth, struggling not to stammer. "I wish to be of service to you, my Lord."

Voldemort stood up and faced her. His red eyes bore into her own dark brown ones whilst he drew out his wand and pointed it at her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cissy close her eyes, determined not to see her sister tortured. She turned her head away just as Voldemort shouted his curse, "Crucio!"

Bellatrix fell to her knees but did not let a scream escape her lips. She would not give the Dark Lord the satisfaction of knowing that she was weak. If there was one thing she knew about Voldemort, it was that he hated weak people. You had to be strong if you wanted to gain anything in life. Letting people see how weak you could be was a sure way to let them beat you when they saw what your weakness was.

***

Bellatrix Black was no longer a Black, but was now a Lestrange. She had gotten married to Rodolphus Lestrange about a year after she had joined the Death Eaters. She wasn't sure if she loved him: mostly because she didn't believe in love. That particular emotion was a weakness, something that the Dark Lord had taught her.

Right now, she sat at a table in a small room, next to her husband, another man she didn't yet know the name of and a boy of no more than eighteen or nineteen. "Crouch, you say you know where the Longbottom's are hiding?" she asked.

"Yes, it's a small village just south of Manchester. Wormtail told me just before he was killed by Black. We know he's an Auror, not to mention a member of that bloody Order, so we can be sure that they will have protective spells around their house. They have a baby, too, so if need be, we could threaten them with the kids life if they don't tell us where the Dark Lord is."

Rodolphus cleared his throat and said, "Well, I think we should go as soon as possible. The Dark Lord could be in danger for all we know. We need to find him and help him. I know most of his followers believe him to be dead but I don't think he is. When he told Bella to put that cup into her vault, he said that as long as that was safe, then there was no chance that he would die. We've checked on the cup and it's still there so he must be alive still. We just don't know where."

Bellatrix nodded next to him, whilst the man she didn't know said in a low voice, "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

***

She stood looking down at the writhing form of Frank Longbottom, one hand pointing a wand at him whilst she cast the Cruciatus Curse, the other holding a screaming toddler to her chest.

"Tell me where he is, Longbottom!" she screeched, "Otherwise, I will kill your son! Now tell me!"

She lifted the curse to let him speak and found his weakness, "Please, I don't know where he is! Just give me my son, please, I'm begging you, please!"

Bellatrix's lips curved into a smile as she cursed the man again. Her master had taught her that she needed to mean it, to enjoy seeing them suffer. "Now, Longbottom, let us not tell lies. We need to find the Dark Lord and you need to raise your child. If you tell me where he is, I will give you your son and Rodolphus and Crouch will bring you your wife back. We will leave and you will be able to raise your brat. It's simple, really. All you have to do is TELL ME!" She screamed the last two words, beginning to lose patience.

"I don't know where he is, you bitch! Give me my son!"

"A 'bitch', did you just call me?" she asked, almost sweetly. "Let me tell you something. My cousin is the bitch. That filthy, mangy, flea-bitten dog that you called Sirius Black! He was a friend of yours, wasn't he? But you all think he turned traitor. That's a lie, it was your other friend, the worthless piece of scum you all called Peter Pettigrew. Now, Longbottom, I am going to torture you into madness, whether you like it or not! Tell me where he is!"

Frank Longbottom lifted his chin off his chest where it had been resting as he listened to her declaration. He didn't know what to believe anymore. They had been told that Sirius had betrayed them, but here was his cousin, telling them it was Peter. She didn't seem the sort to defend anyone.

He looked into her cold eyes, pleading her with his own for her to give him his son but she could see that he knew the battle was lost. He just prayed that Alice would survive. "Looks like you're going to have to torture me, then. I don't know where he is."

Bellatrix screamed with fury, hitting the man with curse after curse, venting her fury at his refusal to tell her anything. The man cried and yelled for her to stop as she continued to hurt him. Soon, all he was doing was crying. He didn't even bother to scream anymore. That was when she knew that he was never going to be the same again. She had done what she had promised him and tortured him into madness.

She looked down at the boy in her arms. She could just kill him now and be done with it, but something in her mind was telling her to leave him, wait for him to grow up before she had a shot at him. She wanted to know how he turned out: he was a Pure-Blood, after all, and that was one of the qualities that Voldemort treasured most.

Instead, she put the one year old Neville back into his cot, where he sat looking at her through the bars. She turned and left through the door, eager for the day when she would face that boy again, this time facing him when he had a wand in his hand.

A/N: She is just so cruel and sick. Poor Neville...and Frank and Alice.

Let me know what you think.

Fresh Water Plimpy =]