Disclaimer: I do not own any of JK Rowling's characters.

"WORMTAIL!"

The shriek was heard through the entire Malfoy Manor. Wormtail, who was scrubbing dishes on the other side of the manor like a common house elf, cowered at the sound of Bellatrix's voice, but then, not wanting to let her know that she intimidated him, straightened up and apparated to the drawing room on the western side.

"Pettigrew, the Dark Lord and his Lady wish to see you," Bellatrix said, smirking. Her eyes held an evil glint; a glint of anticipation. "Don't come to me when you're limping out of there."

Wormtail, who had always thought that the Dark Lady favoured him, just glared at her. "They will not hurt me." Bellatrix cackled.

"Are you trying to kid me? They would absolutely love to use you as a knife sharpener," Bellatrix sneered. Wormtail leered at her.

"You would know; they've used you enough times," he mumbled.

"What was that?"

Wormtail grinned. "Nothing, milady." His sarcasm was not missed by the superior.

Bella narrowed her eyes, then said, "Go, or the Dark Lord will be unhappy." Wormtail noticed how the woman 'forgot' to mention the Dark Lady; he guessed she was still slightly annoyed that he had been snagged before she could make a move.

Wormtail scampered, reaching the Dark Lord's private suite. He knocked, and then waited, combing his hair quickly with his hand. He wanted to look presentable when the Dark Lady saw him.

Lucius Malfoy opened the door, so Wormtail assumed they had been talking about something extremely confidential. While Wormtail Malfoy a curt nod, Lucius just looked down his nose at the servant. Pettigrew stepped in, and when he saw the Dark couple, he knelt.

"My Lord and his Lady called."

Lord Voldemort and his wife were a stunning sight to behold; being in the very presence of them gave a feeling of power - power, superiority and arrogance. Voldemort had been permanently restored to his eighteen-year-old self by a newly discovered potion by Snape, and he had made sure his wife would stay youthful and beautiful as well, no matter how long they stayed alive.

Tom had sleek raven black hair that fell messily in his eyes and made him look impossibly handsome. His eyes were a dark blood red, and his high, aristocratic features made him look coldly elegant. His muscular form could easily be seen through his not-too-tight robes; Pettigrew, though entirely straight, could understand how he had been dubbed the 'hottest bloke at Hogwarts' in his time.

His wife was just as gorgeous. She had dark chocolate curls that fell down to just past her shoulders, and her eyes were a purely golden colour. She had a curvy, womanly appearance, and her heart-shaped face and delicate features made her look somehow kind, but haughty at the same time. The silky green gown she wore fell off her shoulders, and the skirt fell gracefully to the floor. Her ringlets were pulled into an elegant bun, and when she spoke, her voice sounded musical, seductive, deadly.

"Peter," she said sweetly, "I have a matter to discuss with you." Her golden eyes glowed maniacally for a moment, then returned to the calm state they had been before, but Wormtail had not seen it; he was still kneeling with his head bowed. Voldemort, however, had seen, and he grinned evilly. He knew his wife was about to do something…interesting.

"I'll let you have some fun, shall I?" he whispered to her. She smirked and nodded, then gave him a kiss.

"I'll see you tonight, then," she whispered back, but just loud enough for Wormtail to hear. She knew he would be ecstatic that she wanted to be with him, alone. If only he knew.

Voldemort nodded, then turned to Lucius. "Go to the Eastern parlour, Malfoy," he said lazily. He then apparated, leaving only Wormtail and his wife.

All this time, Wormtail had been kneeling on the ground, his head bowed, his knees painful. His heart had started beating rather quickly when Voldemort had left, and he heard the Dark Lady circle him in her black heels. Click, click, click.

"Peter," she sighed in a thoughtful voice. "Peter, Peter, Peter. Whatever shall I do with you?"

"Milady?" Peter dared to look up, and he knew it was a mistake. She slapped him hard on the cheek, her manicured nails scratching him.

"Do not look up when unasked," she hissed to him, before pushing his head down roughly. Wormtail quivered, but stayed down. Her voice returned back to pensive.

"You do know why you're here, don't you, darling Peter?" she mused.

When Wormtail stayed silent, she grabbed his arm and dug her nails in. "Answer me!"

Pettigrew yelped, and obliged. "I do not, milady."

The Dark Lady sighed again, then placed one cool finger on his chin and pulled it up gently. She crouched down next to him, in quite the elegant manner, and placed her lips just on his ear.

"You have made my husband very unhappy," she murmured. "Very unhappy."

She paused for effect, and then continued as Wormtail trembled. "He thinks that I prefer you," she said. "He thinks I love you over him; you, a filthy slave, over him, a beautiful creature - the one destined to rule the wizarding world."

"Do you know why he thinks that?" she asked. Wormtail shook his head.

"You don't?" She sounded amused, and Wormtail knew he wouldn't survive the night. "I heard, from a little bird mind you, that you have a little shrine." She laughed, a bitter, melodious sound, and stood a few metres from him, her back turned.

"He seems to think you are obsessed with me. I told him that he was being ridiculous, but I don't think I convinced him."

She spun around, and shrieked. "Crucio!"

Pettigrew writhed in explosive pain on the floor, spasming uncontrollably while the Dark Lady watched in sadistic pleasure.

When she lifted the spell, she crouched over him, and placed two hands on his chest, pinning him down. "I belong only to Tom. No one else."

Hissing, she screamed, "Sectumsempra!"

Again, Pettigrew felt pain beyond anything he had ever felt before, and as his own blood surged out of his body, he tried to cover anything he could with his hands. He glanced at the woman in front of him in horror; he felt like a thousand knives were slashing him every second.

"But I think you have lived through enough pain." The woman with dark curls towered over him, ignoring the blood that spurted onto her gown. Pettigrew's eyes widened in fear, and he closed them when he saw the smile the Dark Lady gave him; it was so beautiful, so cold. "Not that I really care about how much pain you're in. You just seem so pathetic, and my mind will surely be scarred from seeing you any longer than intended."

He whispered something, but the Dark Lady ignored him.

"Avada Kedavra!"

When he fell to the floor, she took his head in her lap, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, hard enough to leave a black lipstick print. She got up and walked out of the door, thinking of what he had said before he had died.

"You will regret this, Hermione."