InsaneJournal

Bellatrix stood behind her Lord's chair only half-listening to his rhetoric while he readied his followers for tomorrow's Grand Plan.  She had no need to be cajoled or chided.  He need only give the word and she would do His bidding unquestioningly.  Instead, her eyes danced back and forth across those gathered.  Even with their silver masks firmly in place, it was ridiculously easy to read their body language.  Some were eager, some fearful, some watchful.  A few, like Snape and her own Rodolphus, were standing easy, conserving their energy for what was coming.  

She let her eyes linger on Snape for a long moment.  That was one that did not deserve the heights to which he had been raised.  Nor will he deserve what her Lord had in mind for him after the events of tomorrow.  She sneered at him from behind the protection of her mask.  While she was not afraid to show her contempt to his face, her Lord would not appreciate the show of a lack of harmony between the members of his Inner Circle.  

Her eyes swept on to a grouping of new Death Eaters.  So young.  So frail.  So terrified despite their oh so important pride.  It was just as well that the meeting was coming to an end.  She did not have the patience she once had and was beginning to long for a bit of entertainment.  Perhaps some of those limp spines would stiffen if she was allowed to make an example of a few of them.

"Bellatrix."

The sibilant sound of her name drew her attention back to her Lord like an iron shaving darting after a magnet.  "My Lord," she murmured, moving around in front of Him and dropping to her knees so that He would not have to crane His neck to see her.  

Voldemort plucked her mask from her face and she stared up at him with devotion naked on her face.  This close to him the scent of grave dust and snake musk was heavy in the air and the dark, cloying weight of his magic clung to her skin.  It was a pity that he had lost much of his beauty returning from beyond death, but the raw strength of his magic, of his personality made the loss of the physical to be a triffling thing. 

"My most faithful one," the Dark Lord hissed. He tipped her chin back with a cool hand and Bellatrix shuddered at the long missed and deeply familiar sensation of icy shards of legimency magic sliding into her mind past her lowered occulemency shields.  Bits and pieces of her life floated before her eyes as he rifled through her thoughts and memories.  "You are to continue controling that fine sharp temper Lady Lestrange.  The young ones are not your prey unless they fail me.  Only then may you show them the extent of your talents."  

She heard the shuffle of nervous feet behind her and she smiled.  She was good at being her Lord's Whip and she enjoyed her duties greatly.  "As my Lord wishes," she said.  She looked back over her shoulder at the younglings, a reluctant pout on her full lips.  "If things go well tomorrow I am sure I will have plenty of others that will need to feel the sharp side of my wand.  If things go poorly..."  The slow smile that spread across her face was all that was necessary to make her point known.

"If things go poorly, my dear, then those responsible will be yours to do with as you will."

Bellatrix curled around to sit on the dais and laid her cheek against her Lord's knee.  "You are too kind, my Lord."  He did not chose to answer her and moved the meeting forward to his next point. 

The Dark Lord absently combed his cold fingers through the tumbled fall of her dark hair and Bellatrix was content to let him.  Tomorrow would be a glorious day.  The first of many and she would be there to witness it all.