The dementors all gathered around cell number six. Someone new had just arrived. "Isn't she a dish?" one of them said excitedly.
The prisoner eyed them warily.
"I bet her soul is as bitter as a serial killer's," another breathed.
"Black as night and sweet as sin," a third added. He twisted his rotting hands together in glee.
"I call first suck!" one shouted.
"Yeah right, bonehead, I brought her in! By prison rules, she's mine!"
One of the dementors shuddered happily. "Do you feel this aura of hers? Delicious!"
They all crowded a little closer, gripping the bars of the cell and pushing their hooded heads through the gaps and panting at the prisoner.
The prisoner gazed around in confusion, but that did not last. It was clear she had a crowd of admirers, and she took it in stride.
With a devilish smirk, Bellatrix Lestrange ran her hand through her hair, tousling it in a way that she knew drove them wild. "Hello, boys."
*Look, an update! And cover art! Sweet, right?*