Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

[A/N]: Written for QLFC Round 1. My position is Beater 2. Prompt was to write about a Death Eater on a date, and I chose Bellatrix. There were also two optional prompts:

(word) unpleasant

(dialogue) if you don't eat your vegetables you won't get any pudding

Enjoy!

It all started when Bellatrix brought in another puppy and presented it to the Dark Lord. "I'll keep you this time," she promised to its wide, brown eyes. "Mr Big Bad Dark Lord isn't going to take you from me, no, he isn't. No, he isn't."

"Bella," the Dark Lord screeched. "I told you to stop bringing in furry little pests!"

"It's mine," she said stubbornly.

"No!" he screeched again. Bellatrix sighed and cursed herself for not thinking to cast a Muffling Charm on her ears before she came in. "You've already taken in sixteen different beasts in the past two months, and I'm sick of having to clean up after them! It's not even a good number."

"Well, then, maybe you should have just let me keep them."

He paused in his rant about how the number seven and all its multiples were much better numbers, and looked her in the eye. "Bella, what would you feed this… thing?"

"Ogden's Old Firewhiskey," she replied immediately.

The Dark Lord's voice went screechy again. "That's not even a food. It's a drink, Bella, it's alcohol."

"It cleanses the system," she insisted. "It'll keep them healthy."

"No puppies!"

"Puppies!"

"No! Accio!"

Her beautiful pet zoomed out of her arms, despite her trying her best to hold on.

The Dark Lord hissed, and Nagini came slithering forth. The blasted snake coiled around her puppy and took it away to join the rest of Bellatrix's lost pets.

Bellatrix nearly sobbed. "My Lord, how could you?"

"No pets for you," he screeched.

"My Lord, my ears hurt."

He scowled, and cleared his throat. "No pets for you," he said firmly, in a much lower and soothing baritone. "Now, get out."

"Fine," she said, and stomped out.

And then, she got her idea. A stroke of brilliance, really. Pure genius.

Pausing at the door, she started cackling with glee, ignoring the Dark Lord's unnerved glances at her.

"Bella," he warned.

She smiled brightly at him. Rodolphus – the flatterer – had always said that her best smile made her look even more demented and insane. "I'll be in my chambers, my Lord." A lie. And one the Dark Lord saw through.

"Bella!"

She Disapparated.

Bellatrix beamed at the Muggle sitting across her. It smiled back.

"Hello," she said, fluttering her lashes.

"Er, hi," said the monkey. It talks! "I'm Eli." Bellatrix scrunched up her nose at the name – she didn't like the name very much. Mortis, she decided. Much better.

She scrutinised Mortis – taking in its eyes, a lovely shade of blue, and its hair that curled into bouncy locks. She reached over and ruffled it experimentally, almost cooing and how soft it was. "Oh," sighed Bellatrix. "You have such nice hair. Good for petting."

"Yeah, a lot of people tell me that," said Mortis, lips quirking upwards. "Not the petting bit, though."

"How strange," she said, eyes wide. How could that not be the first thing people said about its hair? Muggles, she thought disdainfully. "Do you want to come back to my place?"

Mortis' mouth fell open a little. "I don't even know your name," it protested. Bellatrix frowned. That wouldn't do. The book – Muggles and How to Get One – she had bought from Diagon Alley (and killed the shopkeeper for to ensure his silence) had said that Muggles usually agreed to that. Then again, the book also said that Muggle could read and Bellatrix knew that wasn't true.

"My name," Bellatrix paused thoughtfully. Perhaps she should begin training the Muggle now. "is Mistress."

"Mistress," repeated Mortis slowly.

Bellatrix beamed. "Very good, Mortis! Here, have a biscuit." She took one from her plate and placed it on the Muggle's.

"My name's Eli," said Mortis. Bellatrix looked pointedly at it, and it sighed and ate obediently.

"What's your name, really?" it asked.

It's a smart one, thought Bellatrix, congratulating herself for the excellent choice. "Bellatrix," she conceded. "And you may call me Mistress Bellatrix. Oh, that has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

The monkey stared at her for a moment, then gave her a lopsided grin. "Alright, Mistress Bellatrix."

"Lovely. Biscuit?"

"Thanks. You're pretty interesting, but if you don't mind, I'd prefer to get to know you first. Make sure you aren't a psychotic killer and all that, you know."

"How did you know?" she whispered, looking horrified. It was too smart!

It burst out laughing. "So, you are a psychotic killer? Mind telling me about your latest victim?"

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at it suspiciously. Did it not care? Even wizards and witches did not want to hear about her most recent trophies – of course, most ran upon seeing her or sobbed and begged for mercy.

"It was in my sister's residence," said Bellatrix slowly, testing its reaction. It would be quite annoying if it decided to run, after all, and she would have to chase it down. "She and her husband had captured a Mudblood. I tortured her for hours" – a smile ghosted over her lips as she thought of the imbecile's screams – "and killed her."

Mortis looked a little unnerved now. "How did you, er, torture her?"

"With my wand," she replied seriously.

Its anxiety quickly turned into relief and amusement, as it roared with laughter. "Good one," it gasped. Bellatrix smiled, as well. Who knew Muggles could be so delightfully vicious? "What's a Mudblood?"

"Insects," explained Bellatrix, taking a sip from her tea.

"I've never heard of the species before," said Eli, frowning.

"Yes, well," she replied impatiently. "Now that we've established I am a psychotic killer, are you coming home with me?" If this dragged on any longer, she might just Imperio the thing and be done with it. But Imperiused pets always were such a bore.

"You're eager," it said, grinning.

"I've already bought a collar and a leash," nodded Bellatrix. Mortis choked. "Are you dying?" She felt mild concern tug at her. She sighed, realising how attached she already was to her little Muggle with very nice hair. And skin. Its face was a very unpleasant red right now, and though Bellatrix had no idea why, she took it as a good sign. Dead people were generally pale.

"No," it managed. "I'm going to be honest here, I've never done anything like that before."

"It's alright," she soothed. "All you have to do is follow my orders, and I won't have to kill you."

"That's encouraging," it muttered.

"So, let's go?" Bellatrix gave it her most welcoming smile.

Mortis gulped, looking suddenly fearful.

"Remember what we practised?" said Bellatrix. Mortis nodded. "Let's try it again, then. One, two, three… Muahahahahahahaha!"

"MUA-HA-HA-HA-HAH!" her pet repeated.

She scowled. "No, not like that. You need to connect the syllables together and let it all flow! 'Hahahaha', not 'ha-ha-ha'! You sound like you've just flown a hundred rounds around a Quidditch Pitch. And it ends with a 'ha', not a 'hah'. We're trying to sound evil here, not idiotic."

"I think you're doing plenty fine by yourself," sulked Mortis. "Can we go inside? It's cold."

Bellatrix resisted the urge to Crucio the little beast. Why did Muggles have to be so difficult? "Not yet, I need to make sure you're in top condition to be presented to my Lord."

It looked alarmed. "My Lord? Oh, my God, are we meeting your Dad? Please tell me we're not. This is our first date, are you crazy?"

"Yes," replied Bellatrix easily. "Though the Dark Lord is not my father, but my master."

"Oh," it let out a sigh of relief. "This is just more of your weird kinky shit, isn't it?"

"Kinky?" said Bellatrix, furrowing her eyebrows. Mortis opened its mouth to explain but she cut him off. "It does not matter. What is more important is you practice your evil cackle again. Quickly, now."

"Then we can go inside?" it asked hopefully.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Yes, then we can go inside."

"Awesome," grinned Mortis. "Alright… MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Ooh," she squealed. "That was perfect. I'll give you a big treat for that later."

"Does this treat have anything to do with the collar and leash?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Bellatrix pushed open the manor doors, and Mortis let out a low whistle. "This all looks… expensive." They walked through the main entrance and down the dark hallway that was decorated with old artworks and relics. Bellatrix led them to a stop at the door to the dining hall turned throne room.

"This is my sister's home – Malfoy Manor," said the dark-haired witch.

"Where you tortured the, ah, Mudblood?"

Bellatrix beamed. "Yes, you remembered." She patted it on its cheek. "You're such a good Muggle," she cooed. "Yes, you are. Yes, you are."

Mortis shifted a little. "Cool, uh, now what?"

"Now," said Bellatrix ominously. "We meet the Dark Lord."

"Was that a Star Wars reference?"

She looked at him. "Star Wars?" she said, aghast. "There is another Dark Lord?"

"Dark Lord of Sith? No?"

"An imposter!" spat Bellatrix.

Mortis was about to explain to her that no, the Dark Lord of Sith was not real, but Bellatrix threw open the door to the throne room and stalked inside, fury in her eyes.

"My Lord!" she cried, throwing herself down onto the floor. "I have learnt of one who intends to usurp your throne – he has taken the name and mantle of Dark Lord!"

The real Dark Lord screeched in anger. "Who is he?"

Bellatrix looked up, hooded eyes wide. "The Dark Lord of Sith, my Lord."

Her Lord blinked, and seemed to deflate, much to Bellatrix's confusion. "Oh. Him."

"You know him, my Lord?"

He cleared his throat. "I know of him."

"Then, my Lord," beseeched Bellatrix. "Why have you not taken steps to remove this fool? Why does he still live?"

"Well," said the Dark Lord, looking deeply uncomfortable. "He is… he isn't real, Bella."

"But how can he not be?" she demanded. "Even my pet knows of him!"

"Your pet?" he repeated, confused. It took him a moment to realise his question was echoed by another. "Who is that?" he screeched, pointing a thin finger at the man standing at the doorway. His red eyes widened as he took in her pet's Muggle attire. "You dare, Bella? You dare bring filth into my presence?"

"Hey!" said Mortis indignantly.

"My Lord," said Bellatrix. "This is my pet, Mortis –"

"Eli," the vermin interjected.

"– whom I intend to keep."

"No!" screeched the Dark Lord in horror. "No more pets! No more!"

"You cannot stop me!" said the Death Eater defiantly. "Even if you take it away from me, I will keep finding more to bring in. Besides, I thought you would be fine with it. It knows how to take care of itself, it doesn't leave its mess everywhere, and it can shower by itself."

"It's like you think I'm an infant," said Mortis.

"Hush, my pet," said Bellatrix, glancing at it. "Mistress is talking."

"I'm not your pet!"

"Of course you aren't," she said soothingly. Turning back around, she rolled her eyes at her Lord. He let out a reluctant snicker.

"I saw that."

"Mortis!" snapped Bellatrix.

"Eli."

She ignored it. "You won't get a treat if you keep interrupting me."

"SILENCE!" screamed the Dark Lord.

"Ooh," said Bellatrix. "A scream, instead of a screech this time. Congratulations, my Lord."

"Thank you," he replied absently. "Bella, your Muggle is escaping."

"Mortis!"

The Dark Lord sighed. "Accio," he intoned. Her beloved pet, halfway out the door, rushed through the air and landed, head-first, at her Master's feet. Bellatrix rushed forwards and crouched down in front of him.

"Are you okay?" she crooned, running her fingers through his soft hair.

Mortis looked up at her, suddenly pale. "What the hell just happened?"

Bellatrix glared up at the Dark Lord. "You've addled his brains!" she accused.

"It was already addled from spending time with you," muttered the Dark Lord, massaging his temples.

"But, my Lord," whined Bellatrix. "That's mean."

"My brains aren't addled!" snapped Mortis, lurching away from her.

"Mortis," tried the Death Eater.

"No," it said angrily. "My name is Eli. And I'm not your pet. And I'm leaving. I've had enough!"

The Dark Lord looked at it curiously. "When was the breaking point?"

"I don't know, maybe it's the fact that this lunatic thinks that I'm her pet, and I'm starting to think that collars and leashes don't involve anything sexual!" it said, sounding increasingly more frantic. "And I don't know what you are to her – lord or father or something else that's fucking weird – but, dude, your face is fucking creepy! I mean, red eyes. What the fuck is up with that? And where the fuck is your nose?"

The Dark Lord looked affronted. "My face is perfectly fine, thank you very much. It's not my fault vermin like you don't understand art. Bella, keep your little pest in line."

"You're feisty," said Bellatrix, nodding approvingly at Mortis. "But it's time to stop this little rebellion and come back to Mummy."

"Oh," sighed the Dark Lord. "You're one of those."

"My Lord?" asked Bellatrix, looking confused.

He gestured vaguely at her, looking pained. "Those… 'Mummy' types. I should have known."

"What's wrong with that?" she said, indignant.

"Oh, it's escaping again."

"MORTIS!"

"Bella," said the Dark Lord, eyes narrowed.

"My Lord?" she said innocently.

"Your vegetables."

"What about them?"

"You haven't eaten them."

"I don't like them."

"You still have to eat them."

"No."

"Bella!" he snapped, losing patience. "If you don't eat your vegetables you won't get any pudding!"

She looked horrified. "But – no – cruel – my Lord!"

He smiled triumphantly. "Eat them."

Bellatrix glanced down at her plate, pouting. Then, her eyes lit up. "Mortis!" she hissed, when the Dark Lord wasn't paying attention. Her lovely pet looked up from where it sat on the ground next to her seat.

"Yes, Mistress," it said dully. She frowned. It always looked so down these days.

"Eat the vegetables."

"Yes, Mistress."

She ruffled its hair. "Good Muggle," she praised. "I'll give you a treat later."

It perked up a little and paused on chewing a mouthful of lettuce. "The one with the ruffles and the jelly beans?"

"Yes."

It smiled a little and cleaned off her plate obediently. She quickly replaced her plate in front of her. "There," she said proudly. The Dark Lord glanced at the gleaming china, and looked at her suspiciously.

Finally, he said, "Very well."

She beamed.

The pudding that night was glorious.