Characters: Bellatrix Lestrange, Hermione Granger

Title: A Game

Word Count: 823

Rating: R

Warnings: Violence, swearing, and a lot of it.

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Her skin was so soft and Bellatrix had spent the past half hour poking and prodding at it.

Humming tunelessly to herself, she took slow, calculating steps around the chair which housed her latest prisoner. Arms bound and back stiff, this recent collectible had the potential to be the most wonderful new play thing. Stopping thoughtfully, she bent down and touched the tip of her wand to the Mudblood's chin, a feral grin splitting her lips when the bitch flinched. She knew who this was; how could she not? Harry Potter's cunt. The brains of the golden trio...apparently.

Personally, Bellatrix didn't find the Mudblood all that threatening. She was scarcely older than a pup; a pup whose head she could easily dash against the marble floor of Malfoy Manor and listen to the familiar squishing sound of her brain turning into mush. She rather liked that sound. It reminded her of the first Mudblood child she had killed, a pretty little thing who kept calling for her 'mama'. Pity her blood was tainted.

Watching the brown eyes widen in panic, Bellatrix bit her lip in concentration, moving the tip of her wand slowly up the soft skin of her cheek, before pressing it so hard against the Mudblood's temple that a bruise could form. The bitch tried to squirm, but found it impossible to move her head when her neck was bound to the chair with chaffing ropes that rubbed her skin raw. Every movement strangled her, causing her breath to come out in small, shallow puffs. Cocking her head, Bellatrix regarded her with a small amount of fascination; she couldn't help but already like her.

Ever since she had seen the Mudblood with the horrendous hair at the Department of Mysteries and heard her most beloved Dark Lord mention about her prowess with knowledge and spells, a tiny little snake of jealousy had wriggled restlessly within her. Out of all the women in her Dark Lord's life, she was the one who was the most skilled with curses, she was the one who was the most loyal and she was the one who should be spoken of in such awe tones.

But, no. The Dark Lord mentioned this filth within the same sentence as her name.

Sneering at the memory, Bellatrix moved the wand lower to the base of her neck before discharging a small stinging hex. The bitch jumped, and Bellatrix smiled.

"Tell me again, is the sword real?"

The defiance in the Mudblood's eyes fascinated her, she actually thought that she was equal to a pure-blood, Bellatrix could see it.

Moving behind her with a quick movement, she yanked her hair back so her throat was exposed, pressing her wand harder against her skin. "Tell me."

She had pulled the Mudblood's head so far back that she was choking, a tiny tear trail sneaking out of the corner of her eye as she sobbed and tried to breathe. Bellatrix yanked harder.

"I...It's not. It's fake."

This was getting tiresome. Almost with a bored tone, Bellatrix aimed the wand at the bitch's breast and said softly, 'Crucio'.

She arched in the chair, her teeth gritting in pain. But that didn't stop her from letting out a blood curdling scream as the pain wracked her body. Licking her lips slowly, Bellatrix shoved the Mudblood's head away from her. Taking slow steps, she went to stand before the bitch as she smiled sweetly at her, her wand moving between her fingers in a practiced motion. "Tell me again."

"It's not-"

"Crucio."

Again the Mudblood screamed, begging her to stop the pain and saying again and again that the sword was a fake. Each scream only made her giggle as she swirled around on the spot. Bellatrix watched her robes flutter around her and found the movement terribly interesting. For a moment, she forgot about the screaming Mudblood until she spotted her from the corner of her eye. With a quick flick of her wand, she lifted the curse.

Her chest was rising and falling in quick succession, tears were streaming down her cheeks and her body was squirming. Bellatrix cocked her head to the side in thought. If it weren't for that hair, she could have been passably pretty.

Smiling affectionately, Bellatrix moved closer, bending forward so that her lips were a mere inch from the crying Mudblood's. "Tell me again," she whispered.

A moment passed, and Bellatrix thought she might say nothing. But then, she said softly, "It's not real."

Bellatrix's smile widened. "Crucio," she said in delight as she watched the Mudblood arch and scream and beg, her eyes watching the contorting muscles in fascination.

This was her favourite part. Others might want to use the Imperius Curse, or even Veritaserum. But for Bellatrix, there was nothing better than hearing them scream.

After giving the Mudblood a minute of rest, she leant forward and said one more time, "Tell me again."

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