AN- Just got back from my trip to Assatague Island, and I loved almost every second of it. I made friends with a stoner and a horny sonofabitch. I also met a guy who does the best Jack Sparrow impression you could ever see.

Savee.

This chapter took me a while to write, the entire trip. Huge writers block. Now I get Marching. Hell on Earth in my opinion. So this chapter will have to keep you wonderful reviewers from castrating me.

Chapter Four- Vengeance

September 1st.

The day that I should be going back to Hogwarts. The day I should be seeing my friends for the first time in months. The day I go back to being a Gryffindor.

Thank God that isn't happening.

I work for the Dark Lord. My Lord. I am his best, Bella just behind me.

Bella, Bellatrix Black. My friend, my confidant, my lover. We know each others deepest most darkest secrets. The stuff we don't tell anyone. The kind that sends us crying into the night, those secrets. Like the time all three Dursley's rapped me for three days straight. Like the time they lit my back on fire after forcing me to take a bath in gasoline. Like the time they forced me to eat corrosives and poisons. Like the time all of Bella's male relatives, including Sirus, rapped her. She was 12, Sirus was 13. Like the way Slytherin House has massive orgies, forcing Bella to become the sex slave for all the males. The years of her childhood, when her families ideals of purity were physically and mentally beaten into her.

We both truly trust each other, a rarity in this outfit. When we get disgusted by our surroundings, we take it out on the other in sex. We bite, scratch, and fuck each other mercilessly. We are both trying to cause as much pain as possible to the other. Bella has an affinity with being whipped, reminisces of her childhood no doubt, while I just can't gat off unless there is blood running down both our bodies.

We are both, truly, sadistic.

It's been three months since my initiation. I've been in the true Inner Circle for two months. Snape has been dead for a month.

His death was the best one. The Slimy Bastard was tortured by the entire Inner Circle and My Lord. I was given a chance to give him a 'personal' torture. Crucio, Dementia, Demi, and Parparivad Manus were the ones I used the most. Then I proceeded to carve into his skin. I've taken a likening to artwork, and incorporate it into my torture. Snape's back had my own vision of Hell, the rest of his body was an intricate design of circles, lines, and swirls. If he had lived, the scars would have been magnificent.

Bella came as well. She wanted one thing, Snape's dick. He had rapped her constantly when they where both at Hogwarts, and Bella wanted revenge.

She got it.

Snape looked...interesting without his dick. Bella was screaming at him, insults and reminisces that brought her to tears.

Needless to say, we fucked each others brains out latter.

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The Burrow...attacked by You-Know-Who...All but two got away...Virginia Weasley...Hermoine Granger...failed to escape...

-clips from the September 1st Dailey Prophet-

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I am so frightened right now. You could understand it, considering who has me.

Death Eaters.

I look over to Ginny. She's still out cold, but she looks like she's going to wake in a few minutes.

I start to wonder what will happen to us.

Rape.

Torture.

Death.

Fun shit ehh?

I hope that wont happen, but it will. I know it.

Hope for the best, and expect the worst.

I wish that didn't apply in this case.

I am so fucked.

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Master has called the Inner Circle, all 15 of us.

Bella.

Lestrange.

Dolohov.

Rookwood.

Malfoy.

Nott.

Avery.

Parkinson.

Zabini.

Goering.

Himmler.

Omar.

le Mort.

Bannon.

And Myself.

We are his elite, his lieutenants. We would follow our Lord to the gates of Hell, and through those same gates.

Myself, Bella, Dolohov, Lestrange, and Rookwood are his best.

Malfoy, after being released from Azkaban by Fudge, is our spy in the Ministry, along with Nott and Avery.

Parkinson and Zabini own shops own Diagon, and have numerous contacts within the Black Market.

Goering and Himmler are the joint leaders of a Muggle Political Party that is based in the USA and Europe. They are called N.A.Z.I's, and are an integral part of our terrorist force. They strike at key Ministry and Order installations, thinking they are striking against the Jew's.

le Mort is our spy in the European Union, stalling attempts of assistance from them.

Bannon and Omar work in the former Soviet block, setting up and running small cells of wizards that are loyal to our Master.

We are also very insane.

But when has sanity ever mattered to evil people?

The doors to the hall open, and two people are dragged in. Two that I thought I'd never see again.

Ginny Weasley and Hermoine Granger.

They are so fucked.

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I look into the face of You-Know-Who. All I can see are his blood red eye's, as his hood covers the rest of his face. He is the only one hooded though, the fifteen that surround him are un-hooded and unmasked.

I can only recognize five of them, Malfoy, Rookwood, Dolohov, and the two Lestrange's. The rest I don't know, except one. The one that stood on His right. He is familiar somehow, but I can't place his face.

"Leave us." He says, gesturing to the brutes who had dragged us here.

As soon as they leave, He starts talking, "I must say that I am surprised that you two are here." He starts walking towards us, "I expected you two to escape my raiders considering there stupidity." He stops in front of me, looking into my eye's. He puts his finger on my cheek, tracing my jawbone with it, "I would have that that Dumbledore would have beefed-up his security after I took Potter, but...I guess not." He stops tracing my jaw, and starts walking around us.

He is waiting for something, I can tell.

"Harry is here."

He stops walking. That is what He was waiting for.

"Yes, he is."

"Alive?"

"As alive as he can be."

Those fifteen snicker at this, some looking at the man I can't recognize.

"Come here Potter."

Potter? That can't mean that...

"Yes master."

The man I can't place walks towards us. As he comes closer, I can make out his physical features. Shoulder length black hair, emerald green eye's, and a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"H...Ha...Harry?"

He only grins, "Hello Ginny."

Harry raises his wand, "Crucio."

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He looked at her body, writhing on the ground. This was necessary, necessary to his plan's.

"Don't harm her permanently Potter, I want her alive enough for latter."

"Yes master."

"Make sure is in my rooms when this session is over," Looking at her companion, He said, "The Inner Circle can use the Muggle filth as their own toy, for as long as she is still coherent. After that, give her to the underlings. They will make short work of her."

"Yes Master." An eager gleam evident in Harry's eye's, that, truthfully, made Voldemort frightened to his bones.

'Thank God I got him onto my side," He thought, "Now. Where's my Swiss cheese Goddamit?'