Bellatrix/Voldemort – Fresh Snow
Word Count: 200
Written for TellatrixForever, who requested Bellatrix/Voldemort. Enjoy!
)O(
The night was bitterly cold, but Bellatrix was not bothered. The only thing that she cared about was that the Dark Lord had his arms around her, his chest pressed against her back, and she was watching her own blood drip into the snow.
He had a knife pressed against her throat and every breath she took made the sharp edge dig lightly into her skin. Her neck was criss-crossed with thin scratches, and he had cut her more deeply several times, so that her blood could spill onto the ground.
"Look at it, Bella," he whispered in her ear. His voice was silk-smooth and as cold as the snow she knelt upon. "Look at your blood."
"I- I am looking, my Lord." Her voice trembled.
"So pure… and so easily spilt." He drew the knife across her neck again, and a few more crimson droplets splashed onto the snow. "Your blood, for all its purity, will never be enough to protect you."
"I am capable of protecting myself, my Lord," he told him.
"I know," he breathed, then lowered the knife and allowed her to turn her head. "The quality of your mind matches the quality of your blood."