Bellatrix
Heather and pampus grass sways in the gentle summer breeze. There Bellatrix Black stands, curls blowing around her face like a wrongly-coloured halo.
The Dark Lord is stood next to her, but she makes no attempt to acknowledge his presence, other than;
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
With the acres and miles of flowers and grass that stretch out before them, and the winding path that leads down one of the many small hills - and though he has never truly cared about landscapes - he understands what she means.
"It is."
"It's a shame I can rarely come here," she sighs, using her voice in a soft tone.
"Oh?"
"Mama and Papa forbid it. They say that Muggles live too close for it to be safe here."
He frowns. "I can not see any Muggles."
Glancing at him, she gives a small laugh. "They live a three hour walk away from here. Apparently that's too near our Manor for my parents' liking."
"You and your sisters would not befriend a Muggle, though, would you?"
"'Dromeda might. She's…" struggling to phrase her words right, Bellatrix gives an aggravated noise inbetween another sigh and a fond snicker. "...unusual."
