The dank smell of Knockturn Alley did not affect the black-haired witch who was sauntering along, unaware that her presence had alerted a wizard who was apparently desperate to catch up. Nor did the busy streets unnerve her. Her mind was fixed on one sole purpose, the purpose the Dark Lord had sent her for. Bellatrix's master had not been very happy with a resident of this foul place. In fact he had been so displeased, he had sent Bellatrix on a little assignment to take care of matters for him. That he had entrusted this to her made her heart swell and he was about the only thing that managed to make her feel something other than blank emotion.
Of course there were exceptions. Delight, in delving into the macarbe: exhileration when one was forced to duel... and sheer anger, saved for the times when she came face to face with a mudblood, opponent, or in this case a grubby looking man who seemed to think she was her younger sister Andromeda.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she had heard the name being called but paid no attention to it: her thoughts were fixed on the shop she would soon be entering until a hand was placed on her shoulder and she whipped around, hand gripping her wand from inside her robes in case she had to deal with this quickly. The people of Knockturn continued to walk. Bella continued to glare.
"If you value your existence I'd suggest taking your hand away and moving along like a good little boy," she hissed, eyes narrowing.