Bellatrix sipped her second refill, not yet daring to look up. Her cheeks were rosy. "Yes, m'lord." She gave a tiny glance up, daring quickly to meet his eyes, and immediately looked back down. Her heart was acting like a bird in a too-small cage. She spluttered lightly on her drink and blinked repeatedly.

((short. lD)) 

Voldemort was silent for a minute, before he seemed to decide on something. "Bella, come with me," he said quietly. He began moving through the crowd, not bothering to see if Bellatrix was following. 

((Even shorter. ;D)) 

((I know exactly how to describe this relationship. Not going to tell you. ;c))

 Bellatrix followed, swaying slightly as people bumped into her. She threw her drink, glass and all, at Draco, who was trying to get a butterbeer from the pile of drinks. She missed by a few inches and it whizzed past his ear, but it wouldn't do to just carry that around. "M'lord?" He probably didn't hear, or if he did, he most likely didn't listen. Her still mostly-steady steps were just a little clunky as she followed Voldemort to... to wherever they were going.

Voldemort ignored her, and they walked through corridor after corridor after corridor, until they came upon the entrance to another wing altogether of Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord's wing. 

He hissed at the heavy wooden door that guarded his wing. § Open § he whispered in Parseltongue, and the door swung open. He led her through the hallway, stopping at the door at the very end. It was a very good-looking door, dark green decorated with silver carvings, very elegant. "Do you know where I have brought you, Bella?"

Honesty was usually the best policy in such situations as this. "No, milord...?" Bellatrix's eyes swam with curiosity (and the smallest amount of fear). The hall had been gorgeous, the colors reminding her of her old House, and she wanted to run her fingers along each and every carving. "It's beautiful, milord," she breathed, eyes wandering the hall freely. They seemed to skip over Voldemort, as if some magnetic force kept them from looking in his direction for too long... She was nervous, although it seemed there wasn't much reason... By the third drink, not much seemed to have anything.  

((BAAAH

Edit: I realize now that that wasn't really a deive explanation.

What I meant to say was "I double posted and also I have to go now. lD BAAAH."))

"It is my bedroom," Voldemort said dismissively. "And no, we will not be doing anything inappropriate in there. We will be torturing."

He opened the door and led Bellatrix inside. The room was very, very big, and looked very, very expensive. The bed was the first thing to be seen, absolutely gigantic and covered in silk sheets of green and silver. There was also a large wardrobe in a corner, a one-wall mirror, a writing desk and nothing else. Voldemort looked around satisfactorily.

He made his way to the rug just before his bed and turned to Bellatrix. "Turn around," he ordered. Without waiting for her to obey (knowing she would), he lifted the rug and tapped his wand to the floorboard beneath it. It popped open, and magically enlarged. He peered down into the darkness, and could just make out a huddled figure. He grinned ferally.

"Accio Ginevra Weasley." 

The girl landed outside the hole with a loud thump, and Voldemort quickly closed up the little 'hidey-hole'. Then he turned to the Weasley girl.

"Enjoy the things that go thump in the night?" he asked cruelly, relishing in the disgust he saw in her face.  

He spoke to Bellatrix now. "Come, Bella, and see the blatant disrespect the girl shows your Master. She has heard my more...lustful desires in action from her prison beneath my floorboards, but she shows disgust. Come, and see her face." 

"Yes," Voldemort chuckled, "yes. She will be easy to break, no?" He turned to Ginny. "Crucio!"

The girl began convulsing on the ground and screaming in agony, her skin going red as she clawed at it, before welts began forming. After a few minutes, she began frothing slightly at the mouth - the weak wench - so Voldemort lazily ended the curse.

"She is Potter's plaything, Bella," Voldemort said gleefully, "can you imagine that? Potter, the Boy Wonder, taking this deformed species of a woman for his toy!" 

((Oh jegus, what a surprise. :o V3. Well, this is nice and clean. <3 But I will have to change my avvie, it's bothering me.))

Bellatrix flinched behind his back. "He... He fancies her, my lord?" The creeping feeling of discomfort welled up inside of her, and she tried to press it back down. Toy... Curiosity and longing swam into her dark eyes. "...Master?" She kept her eyes on his heels. The question could end in punishment (she craved it anyway) or in awkwardness, but she doubted her Lord was even capable of feeling such petty emotions. Oi. What other emotions are considered petty... Deciding the better route was to be punished, Bellatrix took a bold step forward and leaned in behind Voldemort. A small grin spread across her pallid features. "Do you fancy anyone...Tom?" the words were slow and pronounced, teasing, her breath dancing over his ear.

((...-sneakily fixes personal timeline error-))

The words that let her know his name seemed to be lost somewhere in her excitement. Bellatrix's eyes were glittering as Voldemort tightened his grip, the contact making her muscles tense. His face was so close... And although the faded memory of a Mr. Lestrange floated around her mind, and she knew her weak attempt to shield things from her Lord was melting, her mouth remained parted and smiling vaguely. The words wouldn't come.

It had been years ago, and the Lestrange she was thinking of was not, as she first thought, her husband. He was at the dinner table, and in idle conversation about old classmates the name Tom had come up, and some Slug Club. It was of no interest until Voldemort was mentioned as the same person, and even then she hadn't thought of it much... But with the struggle to remain above, she could only think. The name, Tom, rolled off her tongue nicely, and she really did like it. Slowly, her hand raised to trace over his fist lightly, and her smirk regained itself.

"I have my ways of getting things, my lord." It didn't matter what he thought. He couldn't let go.

The Ginny girl was on the floor, driven completely from Bella's memory.

((-spittake- Well uh. That takes care of that. lD <3))

Narcissa sighed, and the reprimanding tone was tinged with concern. Her sister was on a path she hadn't gone down, or was at all familiar with, but it wasn't unexpected. "Bellatrix. Don't get yourself hurt." The gleam that flashed over the blonde's eyes wasn't concealed; warning, blame, and silent advice to stop whatever was going on before it came to be a problem were clear.

Narcissa had always been too worrying. With a dismissive huff, Bellatrix stood, leaving her tea and her sister to cool off. Although it seemed she should be satisfied, the night had only increased her desire to spend more time with her master, leak any and all of her secrets and return herself to a proper state. Closeness, in more ways than one... Even if he was stubborn, she would be sure to persist. The determination, adoration, love and lust filling her body was better than any tea. Snape passed, cloaks billowing, and Bellatrix scowled at him in greeting before continuing past and slowing by her Lords door. With a simple knock twice and a semiconfident turning of the knob, Bella slipped her torso inside.

"Milord?" The room was as nice as ever, looking expensive and magical. "What was Severus doing here?" Snape's name was spat out like something unpleasant. Although she was curious as to what  was going on, she was much more interested in spending time with Voldemort, no matter how it was spent. She took in the moment. He was looking thoughtful.