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The anger of Bellatrix Lestrange had always been quick to surface. Her comrades and enemies alike knew this and feared her because of it. She kicked at the flayed corpse lying in front of her before leaving the dungeons with a satisfied smile. With the scorch marks adorning the ceiling nobody would forget what she had done tonight. The very existence of mudblood scum like that was an affront to wizarding kind, and they didn't just deserve to be killed but humiliated for daring to besmirch the planet.
The new recruit opening the door had lifted a robed arm to his face in an attempt to block out the smell of roasted human flesh and he backed away in fear as she approached, causing Bellatrix to laugh. Her mirth recalling the familiar pleasure of fury gushing through her veins like champagne bubbles. She preferred to dole out punishment in accordance to the crime; the blood of muggleborns must be spilled, blood traitors must be tortured into submission and made to betray their own families, those who dared to speak the name of the Dark Lord must first lose their tongues...
Bellatrix paced in a lazy circle around her prey, a slender brunette witch with doe eyes, considering what new combination of curses she could use. Crouching before the trembling woman, Bellatrix decided to taunt her.
"And does the filth know why it has to be scrubbed away? Washed like a stain that never was? And soon everyone will forget about it ever having been-" Bellatrix had stopped in disbelief as a goblet of saliva slipped down her cheek. She wiped the clear liquid away and regarded it, shining in the palm of her hand. It had been in that instant she had decided that her prisoner must be made to dry out completely.
"I'm sorry." Too late her intended victim had realised it was a mistake to taunt her captor, a woman renowned for her viciousness. Bellatrix licked her lips- she loved being able to pinpoint the moment when the realisation sunk in that there would be no miraculous escape. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm sowwy- I'll be a good little girl now, I promise!" Bellatrix laughed in delight as the woman broke into noisy sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. Soon there would be nothing left to spit or bleed or cry. Savouring the feeling of power as her rage mounted, Bellatrix took aim. "Incendio maxima!"
Every one of the Death Eaters ranking below her bowed to the Dark Lord's most terrible and brilliant lieutenant as she sauntered from the house, a definite spring in her step. The fire had been glorious, a pyre of the retribution Bellatrix delivered, a beacon of a hatred that would never extinguish.
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