Bellatrix's laugh was bright and sharp, like shards of fine crystal drawn across the skin, and her smile shone brilliantly, taking years off her appearance and showing the great beauty she had been before madness and Azkaban had taken their toll.
"Oh, I would be most pleased to aid you in your endeavor." She summoned her cloak from somewhere in the depths of the Manor and slung it around her shoulders with a flourish. Drawing her silver mask from a deep pocket, she stroked the smooth surface. "Will this be a formal affair?" she asked gesturing with the mask, "or shall I go as I am?"