Bella stood, still at the right hand of her husband (no doubt the rest of the world viewed it as Rodolphus at her right hand), and literally sneered at Snape as he entered the room. She had never liked him. She had never trusted him. And it was true, of course, that she had been irritated (some would say jealous, though she would kill anyone who did) at him attempt to take or share her place at Voldemort's right hand. But her distaste for him had grown since her death... and apparently his as well. She doubted highly that her Lord would have desired his return from the grave. There were so many more worthy. Not brilliant, of course, but ten times as loyal as Snape had ever been. She knew she had Voldemort's ear, should she desire it. And though she had probably pushed it a bit already, she was definitely willing to speak out should Voldemort attempt to show even a molecule of mercy to this scum. Bella snarled, quietly, but held her tongue for the moment. He had no place here, she was making sure her glare was clear enough for him. She wasn't sure who she disliked more, him or Lucius. No, it was definitely him, at least Lucius had been good to Cissy for a while. And given her a nephew. Snape had done nothing worth anything in her opinion.