J.K Rowling is responsible for the creation of all of these characters. I am nothing. I am not worthy.
Eat Me, Drink Me
Chapter 1
Dragon hide boots scuffed the immaculate hardwood planks. The wearer was anxious to close the gap dividing her and the hellhole that awaited at the end of the corridor. The Snare, the members called the stony dungeon the master favored for their sessions. Cocking her head against the door, voices could be heard chirping with impatience. Shit. Late again.
Bellatrix strode into the chamber with a ferocious expression, betraying not a hint of her boundless enthusiasm for torture. Her raven-feather hair strained the confines of her hood, but all eyes had other bulging objects to divert them. Resting on her beauty would not do any good though, particularly in this sort of gentlemen's club. Today the lord would decide if she was worthy of becoming a fully-fledged recruit and she could not afford to make anything less than a remarkable first impression.
On entering she conjured up a whip and slapped it on the ceiling, before the crack could be registered, she struck at every bit of Death Eater flesh in sight with a series of clean swipes. Bellatrix smirked and, as though she were a geisha twirling fans, set to illustrating in the air with motion and stray drops of blood.
After being sated, her tapped a moist left hand upon her thigh and the leather swung limply for a moment, and then frantically trail blazed serpent-like over her form until it submissively vanished into her concealed wand. "I'm glad that no one has made an issue of my delay. Shall we get going then?" Mission accomplished.
For a moment no one rose to the bait, but then a cowardly onlooker burrowed behind his mask exclaimed, "My, my. What a performance! Isn't she wonderful?" A murmur of amusement followed.
A surly and greasy-haired youngster retorted, "Isn't Black's unique talents precisely the reason that she stands before us and not in the obscurity of a housewife's den?" Bellatrix twitched her skirts in irritation; she couldn't resist pouncing on her inferiors.
As she removed her weathered cloak with a flourish and lazily draped it over the lone central chair, she barked, "You would do well to shut your bloody mouth, Snape. I can defend myself how I see fit." Bellatrix eagerly crumpled the sleeve of her right arm in anticipation of the coming ceremony, "Besides, you are hardly the most qualified to dispense authority. Have you even passed your O.W.L's yet?" Much to the young one's chagrin, she had prodded at his open veins and struck gold. Incapable of finding a suitable comeback, he meekly sulked in the corner without another word, glowering all the while.
The hunched figure masked in shadow rustled his robe and summoned a throaty chuckle, "I like this one. Who would like to take credit for her presence this evening?" Bellatrix's haunting gaze stalked across the only tabletop to the speaker, and she was illuminated from within at the very sound of him.
Malfoy occupied center stage, as was his habit and so he boasted, "My Lord, if I may say so, Bellatrix is a tremendous talent, as she has clearly demonstrated. She was a few years ahead of me at Hogwarts and taught me the Cruciatus when I was thirteen. Her blood and loyalty flow as purely as molten silver, not to mention that she may be suited to undercover operatio—,"
"Thank you Lucius," pounding his spidery fist into the adjacent hand, "well done; we have completed our babbling quota for today. Most important though, we have an initiate to test." Then He gleefully announced, "I will be conducting this in private however, for she requires a more thorough examination."