Disclaimer : I don´t, but JKR does own HP and all characters from it.
„You have disappointed me"
These were the very first words, Bella heard saying her master, after entering the dark room, that was his workroom.
Her favor, had sank, at last after the incident with the broken prophecy.
And it wasn´t so, that it had been much different before :
If all exercises were successfully and done to the full contentment of the Lord, life as deatheater was rather good.
But as long, as there were no things as success, the generally mood was bad.
That meant, to say it frank, that Voldemort let his minions feel the full wrath of his rage on their own body.
And that, was one of the main reasons, a deatheater lost his or her life.
Especially new fellows, where endangered, because of their missing knowledge about the Dark Lord´s changes of mood, and so easily put their foot in it.
But that´s life…
Voldemort sparkled angry over his desk at Bellatrix.
His eyes, that had a terrifying similarity to burning charcoals, stared at her, out of there deep holes.
This glance told stories :
He would punish her for her failure, and it wouldn´t be a piece of cake.
"You´re giving me no other choice, than showing, what happens to people, who aren´t able to accomplish the jobs I gave them, successfully…."
She knew, what would come next. But even then, she tried it every time, to escape her destiny.
"Mylord, please not ! I vow to do better the next time !" She plead, as she got down on her knees in front of him.
"It´s not enough, that you just vow it, Bellatrix Lestrange…And now get up !" He answered with a cool voice, that led her almost shivering.
The fact, that he called her by her whole name, just made clear how serious and way out less the whole situation was, that she were in.
He wouldn´t save her the punishment; under no circumstances.
"Crucio !"
Hardly spoken out loud, a painful arrow shot through her.
It broke its way through her body, till it had reached every last angle, and filled every muscle with an unimaginably, non stopping pain.
Apparently unconscious, she rolled on the floor, in the desperate but senseless attempt, to free herself from the iron hand, that had closed its merciless fingers around her.
She hardly could breath anymore.
At last mortal fear came to the feeling of remorse, and hope and the trust in her master, that he wouldn´t punish her as a faithful fellow, finally totally vanished.
Her conviction was steady as a rock, that her heart, simply had implode because of the enormous compression.
At some time, between her memories of the night at the ministry and her previous career as a deatheater, her respiration stopped.
You could think because of exaggeration. But maybe she simply didn´t want anymore.
It seemed like an eternity, till the compression surceased.
Slowly, her hearth began to work again, and fresh air filled Bellatrix´s strained lungs.
The pain had disappeared, but for that, she almost could sense her sore muscles.
As she opened one of her eyelids with difficult, she were capable to recognise Voldemort, standing next to her and glancing down at her.
She was so surprised, that she jerked.
He chuckled quietly because of her reaction.
"Do not worry, Bella….You won´t get rid of me that fast.."
Portly, he returned to his desk, and sat down in his armchair.
After awhile of questioning staring from the side of the Dark Lord, she slowly realised, in what kind of position, she was still in.
Embarrassed, she stood up, and cleaned her cloak from the dirt.
"Sit down, Bellatrix."
"Yes, Mylord."
What the hell, is he going to do with me next, now ?
Why can´t he simply let me go ?
It´s already worse enough, that he had seen me like that…
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