For the Triwizard Tournament. Prompts are: Bellatrix/Voldemort and Evil Angel by Breaking Benjamin.

Evil Angel

She was an angel until she met her saviour.

There she was, dressed in emerald green, at the combined mercies of her parents and her unwanted fiancé. A Slytherin Princess, alone and determined to amount to more than her sisters combined.

Because behind the corsets and the flamboyant dresses and the jilted ex-lovers, that's all it was. It was simply a competition between sisters. Who can get the wealthiest husband? Who can rise the highest in exams? How many Muggle-borns can you curse before you get detention?

In retrospect, maybe Bellatrix had been raised on a diet of spoon-fed treachery and betrayal.

Destined to be the angel of Purebloods, the eldest Black daughter.

Manipulated. (The bastards wouldn't know what had hit them.)

Discriminated. (I cursed Mary McDonald but of course I'm a girl so it wasn't me.)

Fundementally different. (Who was to know that the Cruciatus was so beautiful in her hands?)

"They're called the Knights of Walpurgis, Bellatrix." Narcissa pointed out, smoothing her skirts out. "And girls can't be knights."

"You're so behind, Cissy." Bellatrix scoffed. "They changed their name. I think Tom-"

"You're on a first-name basis with him now?" Narcissa sat up a little straighter; just enough for her hair to reach her waist. "Tom? You call him Tom? Not even Lucius can call him Tom!"

Bellatrix bit her tongue. In her opinion, Narcissa was weak. She fell in love with the man she had been thrust towards within days. Was her little sister under the impression that Lucius Malfoy was in any way favoured by Tom? The thought made her wretch.

"Unlike Lucius," Bellatrix began, carefully picking out the barbed words to use. "The Dark Lord likes me."

There it was - the bristle. Narcissa was expert at flouncing off, and with a toss of her blonde hair and a dangerous flash of her blue eyes, she was gone from the room. Narcissa seemed to have also ignored Bellatrix's more formal use of Tom's proper title in her arrogance.

But it hardly mattered. Because Bellatrix knew who she would be crawling to this night, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Rodolphus Lestrange.

oOo

"You summoned me?" Bellatrix said, her voice so low and sultry that she inwardly cringed.

Her Lord watched her unwaveringly, and Bellatrix met his gaze, searching for something more than stone in his cold green-tinged-with-red eyes.

"Ah yes." Tom replied evenly, cooly. "Bellatrix. How long is it until your marriage?"

This was not an expected question by any means. Normally there would be a lot more... Screaming involved with their discussions. Tom had a temper, and Bellatrix would lay down her life for the man she truly loved. What was torture to her when held at the mercy of an evil angel?

But tonight Bellatrix felt a change. They were alone - they always were, for their 'discussions' - and the room was dark, low lit.

"Two days." Bellatrix answered indifferently. It was meaningless to her if it was two days or two years. Life would continue. People needed to be disposed of, and Bellatrix would readily volunteer, marriage or no.

Tom looked pensieve for a moment, before regaining his composure. "You feel nothing for Lestrange."

"No." Bellatrix didn't dare blink as Tom stood up, walking towards her slowly. "I feel... I feel nothing for Lestrange."

Her breath was growing shorter the closer her evil angel got, and a tingling feeling was growing beneath her dress.

Control it Bella CONTROL!

"You refer to me as 'Tom'." Tom said curiously, pausing in his tracks. "Surely you know of my taken name."

"I knew you first as Tom." Bellatrix gasped, feeling his breath on her neck. "And... And..."

"MY NAME IS LORD VOLDEMORT!" Her Lord bellowed inside her head, forcing Bellatrix backwards onto the floor as his cold fingers searched through her mind, sifting her memories like running water.

Her Lord reached for the memories in the corners of her mind, picking up her wildest dreams.

The ones in which his fingers her tracing her spine, unlacing her corset and moving a hand down to her heavy skirts and under.

The ones she attributed to losing the wings that kept her a Pureblood angel.

When she awoke, her corset was unlaced and her whole body ached.

And her evil angel was watching her from above on his throne. Tom watched Bellatrix sit up, her head ringing, before nodding.

"You may go." He said, pointing towards the door. "Next time, I am your Lord."

Bellatrix shivered, and looked into his eyes for any sign of anything more than stone.