Disclaimer: Everything to do with Harry Potter belongs to the great JKRowling
Butterfly
The thunder brewed overhead perhaps foretelling what nightmares would soon become reality and despite the clouds thick cover over the graveyard a milky orb could be seen, a ray of hope in what seemed an unending night. She shivered within the circle, not far from the stranger who was to become her husband. Her heart bruised her ribs, her arms prickled, whether from nerves or the cold that pieced her thin robes, she couldn't tell. Her mind was dazed; her large black eyes swept the cloaked crowd where they could from her vision-restricting hood, which cast shadow upon her elegant features. Her ivory teeth drew blood from her lower lip of her rosebud mouth, her heavy lashes brushing her cheeks as she turned her gaze to the floor. Her pale flesh like porcelain, which even in the darkness seemed illuminated, like the moons glow. She was a butterfly caught in a net, her fragile soul like wings, which were to be crushed.
Her breath seemed to scream in the cool, quiet night, her uneven rasp scratching into the air. Breathing was unnatural as she stood under his watch, his glare filtered through the cloak which shrouded her identity from knowledge. In his eyes she was naked, her thoughts echoed not only in her own head but in his, her emotions ran through his veins, he her master, she his servant.
"Kneel," her knees hit the soil, the days rain soaked in, her legs moulding into the mud. His power overwhelmed her and like a fire it engulfed her. She was a moth, he was the flame, untainted evil that destroyed all in its path. "You wish to pledge your alliance?"
"Yes master," his hand reached for hers, his pale fingers gripped her wrist pulling it towards him. Her sleeve slid down to revel her forearm, the material continuing until it reached the nook of her elbow. His flesh was cold, as though the blood that pumped through his being was a reptiles. He extended a blade to her unoccupied hand. She grasped the blue- silver steel in her palm, the freezing metal seemed to burn her, the blisters rising upon its contact with her skin.
"Give me your promise," his amused voice rung in her ears - promise, promise, promise.
"I give my power," her voice was harsh as it sliced through the silence. "My strength and my mortal soul...to the Dark Lord."
He pressed his wand lightly against her forearm, the incantation dancing on the tip of his tongue.
"His sign shall burn in my flesh, the signature of my alliance with the Dark Lord." Her breathing was shallow as she lent the blade against the wand tip, the edge grazing her skin. "With loyalty and honour my blood seals this pact." She pressed on the blade, her body tense. "For I belong to the Dark Lord."
She screamed as the incantation echoed around the circle, liquid snakes, tattoo-like, writhed on her skin emitting an emerald glow as they fed, latched on to one-another and burrowed, leaving deep groves in her flesh and settling within them. Their bodies solidified and turned charcoal- black, forming a skull, with a serpent protruding from its jaws.
The circle of deatheaters remained in position surrounding her, her body trembled as the Dark Lord traced his nails slowly over raw, inflamed dark mark, imprinted in her lily-white flesh.
"Welcome Bellatrix."
With her delicate wings now crushed she belonged to him.