- What do you want?
The Master's voice echoed through the large stone wall room he was in.
- My Lord, we have captured one of Dumbledore's.
- Is it really? - He finally turned his head around to glare at the kneeling, desperate Bellatrix. She panted. He merely stared. - Bring it to me.
She quickly got up and paced up to a dark, old-looking, mahogany door. It opened quietly and shut with a slam. Before long, from the door erupted Bellatrix in her long dark gown carrying a lifeless body with the help of her wand, and Wormtail, dragging behind. As she crossed the room, the Death Eaters followed her with cold eyes, possibly filled with envy, Bellatrix thought. The Lord got up from his tall leather chair, and took a few steps towards whatever was hidden under that large pile of clothes. He moved his wand quickly, and the being rolled up in the air with unfolding sheets. It fell with a thud.
- And where was it?
- Actually, it was searching for us. - Wormtail interfered from behind Bellatrix.
- A simple traitor - The Dark Lord said with a pause - or a possible rat?
Wormtail took the hint and silence reigned for a few moments.
- We believed you would want to see for yourself, my Lord. - Wormtail said in a dying voice.
- How conveniently you display your naïvety. - the Dark Lord looked at his servant in the eyes. - I must deal with you later. Was it you who caught it?
- M-my Lord, I helped Lestrange as she seemed to struggle with it.
Bellatrix blew undisguisedly.
- I had it under control until he came over, Master, pretending to be of any use. - Bellatrix spat without looking at Wormtail directly.
- Quiet, or take your business outside.
Both of them shut up.
The body was now paralyzed, probably not due to magic. All of them could feel the tension building up as the Dark Lord crept closer.
He shook his wand in a large movement and made it get up even without balance. The being visibly tried to catch its own breath from Voldemort's blow.
- This beast has traces of half-breeding. It is possible it belonged to old Dumbledore after all.
Some of the Death Eaters chuckled. The Lord lowered his wand for a few moments, and let the body fall again. It moved a little sideways, trying to put itself together, when the Dark Lord inspired and the being turned to stare at him, startled.
- Legilimens!
The room went so quiet it was possible to hear all the Eaters breathe or whisper, but all they could hear from the scene were uneasy grunts and uneven breaths. Its eyes were still unwillingly locked on their Master's. Some Death Eaters moved uncomfortably, and Rodolphus leaned a bit forward, still on his knees. Then it all went off, the horrified creature fell back unconscious, and they looked at the Dark Lord expectantly.
- No use. Put it in a corner somewhere, Yaxley, estupefied and tightly bound. You may dispose of it later as you wish, Lestrange.
The woman inflated her chest with success, nearly ignoring her husband, who also looked particularly pleased with himself.
Yaxley got up from the formation all other Death Eaters were in, and headed towards the big door, the body eerily following him in the air.
After the bang of the door echoed behind him, he started to mumble to himself how Lestrange hadn't done anything special.
Yaxley pulled his wand from his pocket, and swiftly blew the clothes the prisoner was in, letting again the body fall to the ground on its side. The vision was unsettling. It was not a scent or a perfume, but almost like the landscape outside the room in that dark balcony gained life. He could almost feel his nose sucking in pure desire, and he chuckled when he caught himself wondering if anyone would notice if he took a little longer to restrain that extraordinaire being.
Carefully, he moved closer to that marble-like body, now finally to see if it was awake, softly turning it over with one of his feet and thought he had to ask Rodolphus to allow him to have a little fun with it. As a touch of humour, he decided to bound it nicely in leather straps, fastened on its back, and limped all the way to his place in the room again, listening only with moderate attention.
When the Lord dismissed the Eaters (having promised individual visits in case anyone of them should fail their tasks) the sounds of the others' disapparitions awakened the creature outside. Rodolphus left the room before his wife, being closer to the door, and got ahead of her. She should have sensed he would spoil her victory, Bellatrix thought.
He made sure to pull the creature by its long, dark hair, making it whimper and struggle against its bounds. He offered his other hand to Bellatrix and all she wanted to do was spit on it, get her trophy, and disapparate her own way; if only people weren't staring. But they were. They always were.
Her husband had claimed her prize his. She knew every single possession belonged to both of them indirectly, now and forever, but Rodolphus, a little boy when it came to this torn rose of a wife he had, would have it his way and his only.
She felt anger sparkle and enjoyed it for a second before putting her pale hand on top of his.