hUNTING- (bella)

[voldemort]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 800px; background-image: url(http://i54.tinypic.com/242am3s.png); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: px px px px; border: px solid #ffffff;] As usual, a storm had swept through London, turning the streets to mud and forcing people to take refuge inside of any little café that could be found. September was a common time for storms, however, July was not. Strangely enough, odd storms had been sweeping through the area since the last school year had ended. People were wondering, curiosity was easy to find among the citizens of both the muggle and wizarding world, and the Ministry of Magic was running like they hadn’t done before. People were disappearing; creatures of damage and destruction were appearing over the globe, and even as far away as the United States things were falling from their hooks. A buzz in the air could be felt, and the thunder over your head could easily tell you ‘stay home, you might end up dead.’ As only a select few had been told, very few were aware of the Dark Lord’s return, and for the moment, that was how the Lord himself wanted it. After all, he was still regrouping, still gaining power, still recruiting for his own purposes. However, soon enough, a terror would erupt among the people of this world that none would forget. Dead and destruction would inhabit this world, making the humans seem like a minority. The evil that had been dormant for so long would no longer be in such a state; instead, everywhere at once, ruining lives, forcing people to join his side or risking losing everything they had. Evil the mudbloods might had a chance, if they would give up their wands and become the servants of the purebloods, a much better race of wizards than the disgusting muggle born rodents. The Dark Lord himself was currently seated in a dark corner of a small restaurant within the confines of Diagon Alley. The rain outside pelting against the window he peered through, coming down so hard the glass vibrated with its force. The hood pulled over his head hid beyond a doubt that he was deformed beyond that of a normal human; though, the Lord of all Things Evil didn’t consider himself a normal human. He was extraordinary, beyond the skill of the greatest wizards, good or evil. He would demonstrate that power today, as he would infiltrate the Ministry of Magic and find what he sought after, without the Ministry knowing of his presence; until, that is, he was done with his deed. He’d let them know of his penetration, but they would be able to do nothing about it. Standing, he noticed several people stop their conversations, glancing around as if something had disturbed their thoughts. In fact, that was exactly what had happened. After one dwindled in Dark Magic for such a long time, one would gain a strange ability to manipulate the air and, eventually, peoples mind. That is, without trying. He strolled to the door, letting himself out. As no one else was on the streets, save for a stray child playing in the puddles, he took pleasure in being alone, more than sure of the perfect day for his ‘mission.’ His thought quickly wandered to the companion he had chosen for this certain ‘mission.’ Bellatrix. A worthy Death Eater, powerful and loyal. There would be no other to accompany him at the moment. He didn’t require help, and would have preferred to be alone, but thought to reward her for his service to him with some ‘quality Lord Voldemort time.’ Perhaps it wasn’t what most people would consider a reward, but many people failed to understand that it meant to be in presence of the Lord, especially alone. Some days, the Lord thought it quite special that he got to be with himself, though that was absurd. For all of the effort he’d put in to become what he was, he had all the right in the world to be himself. This brought a smirk to his lips, and he left the rest of his thoughts of Bellatrix to the future. His path was directly before him. There would be no sneaking through a muggle restaurant to enter the Ministry through a lavatory. No, he would walk straight through the doors, and they would do nothing about it. He would slip past clearance, disappear beyond the wandering eyes of the guard, and wait for his companion within the confines of a room no Ministry member would think to look for the rising Dark Lord. Confident, sure and precise, he’d obtain what information he was looking for, and increase the strength of his army by a long shot. Strange, that one Death Eater could do such a thing. After stepping through the door, he process was simple enough. By his own magic, and the help of a follower within the Ministry ranks, he was quickly in a considerably small room, once again staring out at the rain. Now, it was simply time to wait for Bellatrix. Hoping her the best, he stood before the window pane, nothing lighting the room save for the cold, smothered light of the window. A smirk was stretched across his face, his eyes narrowed, his mind set on his reign.

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 561 // outfit // clicky // tagged // Voldemort&closed witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - Wide, doe eyes paired with a large, jetted out bottom lip made the soaked Bellatrix truly a pathetic sight. Her thick black locks, usually held in disarray due to her vast amounts of tight curls, lay flat and lifeless against her head and back. Despite the witch’s outward appearance, anger at the sudden rain had twisted the emotions deep within. However, such a trivial thing could not keep her down for long; for today, Bellatrix had an honor greater than all others. She had been told to assist her Dark Lord in an infiltration of the Ministry of Magic. A small smirk spread wickedly across her lips as she by-passed all shelters, weak in their attempt to appear welcoming. The realization that she would be with her Lord for an evening alone hit her once again, as if she hadn’t thought of it before. It was a prize, she was sure: payment for her loyalty that she was all too happy collect. Allowing her mind to wander off had not been the best control, however the witch quickly pulled herself together as she reached the front doors of the Ministry. Lightly, her index finger ran down the paneling of one of the grand doors, causing an evil glint to appear in her previously pathetic appearing eyes. Her Lord had passes straight through here moments ago, entering with confidence and class. While she knew she wasn’t quite capable of repeating his actions, she could so something all too similar. Running her finger down the rest of the door and laying the self-same hand upon the handles, Bellatrix laughed lightly, pulling out her wand as the door opened for her. Immediately the room froze, accompanied by powerful black trails of magic escaping from all of the employees’ heads. Taking her time, Bellatrix entered, most of the water pulling itself back from her and pooling onto the floor as if she were something wretched. Satisfied with her drying body and the erased memories of the frozen Ministry employees, Bellatrix took a step, stumbling slightly as she did so. Making her way towards the rendezvous point given to her by her Lord was simple enough, trailed as she went by a growing mass of black magic. Reaching the door of the inconspicuous room, marked by a lower ranked Death Eater hanging protectively outside, Bellatrix grinned. Pushing the man aside carelessly, and putting a way her wand, she turned around before entering to face the floating black magic that was composed of the pulled memories of the Ministry workers. Yanking her wand out once again, she flicked it and with a quiet pop!, it disappeared, never to be recalled. The Death Eater nodded once and then returned to his duties as Bellatrix slowly opened the door. When the door was successfully sealed shut, the sounds of the employees working throughout the Ministry returned. Laughing softly, Bellatrix turned to face her Lord, bowing deeply. ”My Lord, how good it is to see you.” He needed no thanks for bringing her along on this mission, and Bellatrix knew better than to think that he did. Her arms hung limply by her side as she cast her eyes downward, approaching her Lord. Boldly, she neared his side, darting her eyes out the same window that the Dark Lord was looking out of. Never, though, she did appear next to him. notes // oh! and were we still going to do your first idea? or no?

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]

[voldemort]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 800px; background-image: url(http://i54.tinypic.com/242am3s.png); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: px px px px; border: px solid #ffffff;] There was always a certain pleasure from being around Bellatrix, simply form the way that she held herself. It wasn’t a physical thing, rather a mental happiness, a kind of proud air in the room that radiated from the female death eater. Her pride in her occupation was more immense than most of the others combined, and there wasn’t a way possible that the Lord Voldemort couldn’t at least smirk at her enthusiasm. He didn’t return her greeting for a moment, instead remaining still, his face hidden from her views. The final speculations of his plans were running through his mind, the kinks being worked through and the finishing touches being put into place. Before long, he’d have the answer to his slight dilemma, and he’d have yet another member of his ranks returned to him. Preferably, there would be no bloodshed and no need to take control over anyone who thought to interrupt the Dark Lord’s work. He slowly turned to her, one of his classic half smile-half not smile’s on his face, his dark of his eyes even a bit over-joyed at her presence. . ”My dear Bellatrix, what a lovely entrance you’ve made. I’m sure our friends loved your tender treatment.” He turned and strolled away from the window, the rain almost immediately softening to a sprinkle. ”I would imagine other things from such an impressive Death Eater, but your methods were exquisite,” he chuckled, his voice as low, as smooth and as his words as slow as ever. He continued to pace the room, back and forth, a confident twitch of his lips occurring every so often. ”Come, our plans are to start now. Stay close, for I would hate to have something happen to my best follower.” He moved for the door, but instead took a step to the right. Grabbing the handle of the door, he pulled directly to the right and the door slid with the slightest bit of pressure. Left behind was a wall resembling that of the rest of the room. He opened the door, and beyond is was a deep, dark cavern. With the slightest twitch of his fingers, the black was lit as torches along the walls erupted into, not surprisingly, green flames. Happy with the current situation, he started down the corridor. ”Lady Bellatrix, tell me, what have you in store for the future, once we’ve gained control?” he asked, honestly curious. A brisk wind seemed to be coming from below them, though the ground was solid and not detectably enchanted. If they were to fall, however, the Lord of Evil would simply suspend them in the air, keeping them out of harm’s way. He knew the things that the ministry might attempt, and he had a backup plan for all of them. Anything new would be met with resistance, and he would gain his information without injury, as long as he had his way.

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 690 // outfit // clicky // tagged // Lord Voldemort witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - Her Lord’s relaxed state put Bellatrix more at easy, enjoying the opportunity to be in his presence and have his attention only on her. His smirk, felt and yet unseen, brought one to her lips as well, her body hanging on every word he muttered, every move he made. Her deluded sense of love towards her Master was linked humorously to her unwavering loyalty, despite the knowledge that the Dark Lord would never, and could never, return her feelings. Bellatrix’s mental aberration seemed to keep the peace between her unquenched feelings and her pride-filled loyalty, making her the Dark Lord’s most dangerous and allegiant warrior. His kind and preferred treatment of her, whilst having knowledge of such feelings, helped to both keep her at bay and keep her close. Such antipodal positions constructed their relationship, strong and delicate simultaneously. The Dark Lord, in deliberate lethargy, turned to the witch, displaying a small smile she knew all too well. It was the smile that meant he was particularly satisfied, for the Dark Lord was never really happy. His eyes shone softly from the dismal light the sky produced and the rain reflected, hinting that a human being had once inhabited his body. His deformed face attested otherwise, however: the face of a wizard born for glory. When the Dark Lord spoke, Bellatrix slightly leaned towards him, unable to not show her desire to be ever the more close to her beloved Master. Slowly, the woman lifted her face as to view her Lord’s more clearly, now that she had been addressed specifically. But at this moment, he turned from her and the window, which now produced a quieter version of the storm outside. His traipsing ended which another lot of words, these more kind than the last. An uncontrollable giggle, which sounded bloody mad, erupted from the woman as she took a step towards him. ”My Lord knows that I have learned everything from him! Commend yourself for such a method, not me. I beg you.” Her voice had considerably softened; more at ease with the man she called her Master. As the Dark Lord took to meandering about the room, Bellatrix watched in loyal contentment, a smile painted wickedly upon her features. She was slightly hunched over in submission, her fingers now tapping against each other periodically near her chest. At her Master’s command, Bellatrix drew herself close to him, watching his hands work dauntlessly at the door, revealing a new passage. Silently the witch glanced over Lord Voldemort’s shoulder, glaring into the darkness only to have her vision cleared by an endless amount of green-lit torches. Her Lord then proceeded forward, followed perhaps a bit closer than necessary by Bellatrix. Satisfied with her proximity to her beloved, Bellatrix began glancing around suspiciously. This was the Ministry of Magic, therefore security measures were to be expected. However, Bellatrix had complete faith in the Dark Lord’s uncanny ability to predict interruptions, and after a while allowed her gaze to float back to him. At this time, he began to speak, his voice shattering the silence filled only with the crackling of the torches. His question was personal, and in a way pleased Bellatrix to no end. She wouldn’t be foolish enough to think Lord Voldemort actually cared for her future, but the delusion of such a thing was a pleasant one. ”Once my Lord has attained control,” she began, making sure he understood she knew his Death Eaters were not his equals: ”I wish to stay by your side until there is no further use for me.” Serving the Dark Lord in all ways possible had been her life’s ambition for many years now, and a thought without the Dark Lord in the picture as her Master was not a thought she wanted to have. It was, perhaps, what made her his most loyal Death Eater: the fact that she had thrown away everything to become his most allegiant. Such things seemed trivial to her now, therefore giving them up had made her feel nothing. Her love was the Dark Lord. Her wish was to serve him. That was what she lived for. notes // see? almost 700. perfect.

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]

[voldemort]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 800px; background-image: url(http://i54.tinypic.com/242am3s.png); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: px px px px; border: px solid #ffffff;] The future was a bright place within the confines of the Dark Lord’s mind, a place where he had control, where he could mold the world into what he wanted it to become. He would be able to destroy the muddlebloods or put them to work, something that would get them out of his way. He would let the world go on with its business, so long as there was respect for the man that had brought them to where they would be, at that time. He didn’t plan on destroying the lives of everyone, as so many thought was his intention, but instead, simply bring the truth to the eyes of those who did not understand his goal. So many only saw the Dark Lord as a bringer of death and an ender of happiness. However, that simply what had to happen in the process to gain the power that he needed to make his goal reachable. And it was reachable. The passage was growing brighter, not by the effect of the torches, but by a light at the end of the tunnel, growing steadily brighter. He kept his guard up against anything that could drop from above, below or from any side, but he greeted the idea of getting out of his cramped space with an optimistic twitch of his lips. He wasn’t claustrophobic, just very eerie of the current circumstances he was in. After all, if for some reason he wasn’t able to protect both of them, which he couldn’t imagine happening, he could potentially lose his most valued Death Eater. Among all of the strong males and the skilled witches, somehow, Bellatrix was still his favorite. Though a bit unstable, clumsy and sometimes just plain insane, she was beyond what he could hope for. He had no worries as to her loyalty, and could trust her with his life, something he gave no one the privilege of having. But, after proving one’s self time and time over again, he understood Bellatrix to be just as worthy as any other, if not far beyond most others. ”It pleases me that you wish such a thing. I would enjoy that greatly, though I wouldn’t prefer to spend so much time with any other death eater. None compare to your loyalty my darling Bellatrix,” he smiled, though as usual, it came out twisted, morphed by years upon years of hatred, fighting and dark magic. The passage ended and the Lord of Darkness found himself standing at the boundaries of a large room. The room seemed to be sculpted of complete glass, fitted with embroidered sashes of gold strung from one edge of the room to another. They were enchanted with strong magic, surely to turn into something dangerous if they were to be set off. He stopped for a moment, though only a moment before reaching into his thick expanse of cloaks, black as midnight with no moon, and pulling out his wand, white and claw handled. Pointing the wand towards the sashes, he mentally uttered a quick charm. The wind that had previously ruffled the Lord’s cloaks in the tunnel had been breezing through the room as well, making the sashes slowly twitch back and forth as any material would. However, now, they had no further movement. ”Bellatrix, keep close. The surprises of the ministry wouldn’t prove to be fatal, but I would hate for damage to be sustained by either I or you. Come now,” he spoke, starting across the room. He let his wand rest in his hand at his side, his senses extending, reaching, probing for anything that would wish to stop them on their progression. However, nothing of the sort seemed to be alive in the room and he walked a bit slower, content and assured. No need to hurry through this place. He would like to be here for some time, and then let the Ministry know of their long term failure. He enjoyed when his enemies failed. It gave him something of a warm tingle in his spine, though warmth was beyond foreign to the Dark Lord.

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 654 // outfit // clicky // tagged // Lord Voldemort witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - The surrounding, dimly lit area lightened slightly, marking the end of their journey. Bellatrix glanced suspiciously at the exit to the passage, untrusting of its true release. She had full confidence in her Lord’s ability to protect the two of them, going so far as to place her hands, one of which containing her recently drawn wand, down by her side; but even so her muscles tensed harshly for an expected attack. Forcing her tense shoulders to relax slightly, Bellatrix made sure to stick alarmingly close to her Lord. If the Dark Lord believed words alone, and not body language, he would be a fool, and Bellatrix knew him far too well to believe he was such a thing. No; if she intended to display to him her trust in his ability to protect her then she must display such through her body: which, as it turned out, was something she was magnificently good at. The Dark Lord’s response to her future ambition immediately brought a layer of tears to her eyes, crystallizing the darkly rimmed glint that she had had before, followed by a slight tremble in her bottom lip. To hear such appraisal from her beloved Dark Lord sounded of such sweet grace and love. To hear such a thing from her Master meant more than anything. Such sweet nothings tied her deeply to her Master in a way that none could break or rip from her, further engorging her deluded sense of love towards him. The Dark Lord’s twisted smile enticed her into smiling as well, but only long after he had turned away. Bellatrix knew full well that he knew of her unquenched feelings, and that he took advantage of them, however she couldn’t bring herself to think it was such a bad thing. Perhaps it was simply her misplaced affections that blinded her from such matters. Again pulling herself back from her mental lapse, Bellatrix pulled her gaze from her adored Lord and set them, blazing with determination to please, onto the shivering cuts of golden cloth. The same light breeze had tampered with the ends of her drying hair as the two had descended into the darkness, suspending them around periodically. Watching with wide eyes as her Lord pulled out his deathly wand and cleared the path for the two, Bellatrix grinned wickedly, her wide eyes taking in Lord Voldemort with an unhealthy obsession. Catching herself, however, before he began to speak, the witch cast her gaze upon the deadened pieces of fabric, glaring intensely. ”Yes, my Lord,” spoke Bellatrix, all traces of her trembling under his praise vanished despite his display of concern for her safety. Her voice appeared humorous as she continued to stare at the golden cloth suspended above them, eyeing them with unapparent pleasure. Sticking close to the Dark Lord as he sauntered around the room, Bellatrix couldn’t help but release an almost inaudible laugh; one made to be both silent but express her giddiness at successfully infiltration the Ministry without really having to do much. It would have, had Bellatrix given a damn, been a sad deterioration from the times of the Ministry during her days in Hogwarts. However, the facts remained that she honestly could not care less, and thought the Ministry a rather humorous joke. Following, the witch continued to share her Dark Lord’s shadow, often bursting into mad fits of giggles in which she cast her head down, her hair falling wildly into her face, in a request for her Lord to forgive her. Brushing her two right fore-fingers across her bottom lip, Bellatrix eventually calmed down, her eyes wide and darting from place to place, attempting to memorize the very walls of the mystery room, as if she hadn’t already done so. She didn’t dare speak again, and simply opted to listen to the movements of her Master, her lips curled wickedly as she attempted to view him through long black locks. notes // woot!

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]

[voldemort]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 800px; background-image: url(http://i54.tinypic.com/242am3s.png); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: px px px px; border: px solid #ffffff;] A stillness in the air was unsettling, making the Dark Lord quicken his pace, though not noticeably, except to those such as Bella, who seemed to watch every move he made. Though, unlike most people, she watched him for her own enjoyment. Most watched him to be prepared to duck, in case he decided to kill them. His eyes narrowed as something twitched at the opening of the tunnel behind them. He didn’t need to turn to see that something was following them, though that something was rather slow and posed hardly a threat, having little to no magic ability, but rather, it was a pair of eyes for the ministry. There wasn’t a link attatched to the creature, no contact made with anyone in the ministry, but soon enough they would be aware. Lord Voldemort would have given Bellatrix the opportunity to take care of it, if only she was as powerful as him and could notice so many things about it. He had no doubt she would have been aware of its presence by now, but she would not be able to see the link attached to it. ”Move not Bellatrix,” he spoke, his words a hissed whisper. He turned quickly, side stepping his follower, his wand extended. Without a single word uttered, one charm was cast, to disallow the creature to speak and then another to put the creature into unconsciousness. He would have prefer to kill the creature, small and ugly as it was, but he would later let the Minister of Magic himself witness, through this creature’s memory, whom his building and secrets had been infiltrated by. It would be a victory that he’d enjoy. Something he would be proud of for a long time to come, though much more would soon over shadow this small win. Of course, like all good ministry workers, traps had been put into place. The Dark Lord had turned and had his hand on the knob of the door that was before them when something erupted behind them. Clearly, something had been upset by the loss of consciousness of the small ugly creature. Or, rather, several things were upset. A small of creatures were quickly tearing their way through the opening of the tunnel. None would have been larger than two feet, all quite skinny and standing on four legs. Sharp teeth, glinting orange eyes and black exterior coat considered, Voldemort would have rather stepped through the door and let them be, rather than having to deal with their pesky agility. But, the door was locked. However, being the Lord of all things Dark, this would not be a difficult battle to lose. He hardly worried about Bellatrix, knowing that she could very well keep her own battle. Turning, he faced the creatures who had climbed over the ugly creature’s body and now stood in a line, all twelve of them, facing the two death eaters. They would hiss and growl, claw at the ground and bite at those around them, eager for a fight. The line was moving closer, and the Dark Lord was starting to get agitated. How dare such small creatures think themselves a match for Voldemort. He hardly raised his wand before muttering a spell. Several of the dog like creature erupted into flames, causing the others to leap forward. There would hardly be any fight, however. As he began his assault on several, he knew Bellatrix would have a few of their own. However, the fight would last longer than expect, as even more of the creatures poured through the opening of the passageway, across the room from the death eaters. ”These creatures will fear the light, Bellatrix. Let us dwell within a foreign realm for just a moment, to rid ourselves of these. . .pests,” his voice calm, his wand flicking back and forth, some creature simply erupting, disappearing or busting into flames. The golden sashes on the ceiling were a light with fire by now, magically changed to burn bright white. Some fell from the ceiling, falling upon the creatures, resulting in their terrified yelp and their quick escape from the scene. ”Yes, yes. . . Light will do,” he mumbled to himself.

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 668 // outfit // clicky // tagged // Voldemort witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - Bella’s selfish gazing ended rather quicker than she wanted it to. The first sign of danger was the moment her Lord quickened his pace: something he had no real reason to do unless he had sensed something she did not. She suddenly felt dull in her senses, glancing around frantically in attempts to detect the unknown enemy that she now knew was coming. Her wicked grin lost its luster and disappeared, her eyes still wide in anticipation, as she pulled her wand which had been previously held in soft contempt close to her chest. The danger materialized as a soft flicker consumed in the dark through the door the two had appeared, though Bellatrix did not move as accordance to her Master’s wishes. Instead, she focused on setting her best judgments upon this creature, discovering only that it was quite slow. Worry morphed her face as she began to think that the creature had already alerted the Ministry of their breach. Bellatrix stood still, slightly hunched over as she glared intently at the place where the intrusion was last seen: her wand poised and ready for any type of attack that they could encounter. Her hair, now thick and spacious due to the moisture, hung limply in her face, obscuring her pale features. Her gaze shifted slightly as her Master moved aside to face the unknown creature, causing concern to leak into her pool of emotions. Two charms were cast, and the creature became unconscious and mute. Glaring angrily at the darkness, Bellatrix remained on guard even as her Lord turned to open the next door. Turning silently to follow his assent, Bellatrix saw her Lord slide out of vision as she fell, dazed and dizzy. He never seemed to notice, as his vision had snapped back to an eruption she could barely comprehend happening behind her. Forcing her upper body up, against strong resistance, the witch turned to see her Master swarmed by a small legion of tiny, canine-like creatures. Turning back to find her wand, the witch gasped horrifically as the air seemed to drop out of the room. Grasping her wand firmly, after finding it a few feet in front of her where it had landed after she had fallen, Bellatrix mentally began casting counters to the hex placed upon her. As things began to become hazy and black the hex receded, leaving her to gasp in large breaths for the precious air that, as it were, had become her weakness in this situation. Angrily, the witch got up, running towards the creatures that continued to run obsessively through the tunnel exit. Muttering and flicking her wand in little bursts of energy, the witch cast several hexes on the door until; finally, the creatures that came through were immediately obliterated by what seemed like black lightning. Turning, a crazy glint in her eye, Bellatrix began swishing her wand, the dog-like creatures blowing up and turning to eat each other in sickening ways. The slaughter stopped when the Dark Lord began to speak to her, causing Bella to visibly force herself to nod in recognition. She couldn’t help but notice that her Lord had not been harmed and, in a frustrating discovery, had not been affected in the slightest by the hex that had nearly done her over. Clamping her jaw tightly, she turned to casting spells of light in which the creatures quickly recoiled and died from. Once the lot had been slain, and the remaining destroyed by her hexes on the door, Bellatrix sighed deeply and clumsily made her way over to her Lord, a pitiful look masking her anger at herself for being taken by such a hex. Either way, however, she knew the Dark Lord would look through her. ”I apologize, my Lord. I should have. .” and suddenly she went quiet, staring at him, begging for forgiveness. He had taken her on this mission as a reward, and having to worry about her was not something he intended to do: she knew this. notes // muse ~ adam lambert , your entertainment ! epic hex <3

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]

[voldemort]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 800px; background-image: url(http://i54.tinypic.com/242am3s.png); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: px px px px; border: px solid #ffffff;] Something very odd occurred, and it took quite a moment for the Dark Lord to realize what was happening. It had seemed as though Bellatrix had become even more clumsy than usual, slipping and falling and gasping. It really was an odd show, though he refused to acknowledge such a show of. . .insanity. Best to let those moments pass, as he tended to do. If anything, when it the right mood, they brought his joy. However, the moment was definitely inopportune. The creatures were swift, dangerous and much more of a threat than the slow, ugly creature that would only move or live again when the Dark Lord left the Ministry. However, these creatures seemed less fatal for his plan, having no special ways to communicate with those upstairs that could potentially cause trouble for the death eater’s future. The creature, in do time, where dead and gone, thanks for his own effort and of course, Bellatrix’s magical abilities. He wished to ask her about what had happened. He turned to speak with her, but before he could say a word, his eyes closed and he was suddenly aware of something pressing down, an attempt to smother anyone who disturbed this area. It had no affect on him, a fact that didn’t surprise him in the least. It would take a much stronger hex to weaken the Dark Lord, a man whom would soon destroy the muggle loving ministry. Saddening was the thought that the spell had affected Bellatrix. She should have been stronger than that, more able to handle the situation. But of course, she had proved herself after a quick struggle with the invisible force. She’d taken out at least half of the small beastly creatures and had done so in a fashion that very much suited Voldemort’s liking. She had a certain way of doing that every now and again, pulling out something truly perfect for the situation. He commended her, and yet he pitied her weakness. ”This lovely hex seems to have taken a toll on you Bellatrix. Pity,” he spoke, his eyes opened and wide, though not necessarily accusing. Rather, a soft spot of humor had found it’s place for just a moment. Though he didn’t find the situation at all funny, the idea of Bellatrix being weakened by such a thing as this hex was quite amusing and put the Lord into a further good mood, something rarely experienced. He turned, though stopped himself. The Lord of Darkness didn’t look at her, but rather smiled and nodded his head. ”I commend your effort Bellatrix, for any other wizard would have been crushed. I thought bringing you along would be a wise choice,” he turned now, his hand reaching for the door. Turning the knob easily now, the door was quickly opened,”I am not disappointed. This room was much hotter, made from brick and extending past that of what one could see. As the Lord expected, a hoax, though a very well thought out one. Before them stood a maze, and if lost inside that maze, one would surely die. Creatures would surely be running through that maze, invisible to the eye until entered through the appropriate area, that could prove very much catastrophic to the two death eaters mission. The door was a ways off, but could quickly be reached, if one were to find the way swiftly enough. And, at the moment, the Dark Lord would prefer to leave this place quickly, over slowly. ”I would hate for the distance between us to become too broad, so stay close,” he spoke, his voice crystalline and soft. The stepped forward, only to stop and turn to his right. After ten paced, her make a brisk right, followed quickly by another left. At this time, from the farthest that the eye could see, something was coming for them. It was an expanse of wall, the maze zigzagging in a way as it approached them. Soon enough, they were surrounded on all sides by that wall. Multicolored bricks were stacked as high as the roof, blocking out view except for a five foot wide space from wall to wall. ”Wand at the ready my loyal companion, for the mysteries here are very well hidden,” he spoke, and then continued on their way, this way and that, very much aware, thanks to his heightened senses, of the exact path they were to travel.

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 811 // outfit // clicky // tagged // My Lord ! witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - The Dark Lord had turned, prepared to speak to the quite pitiful Bellatrix about what had just occurred before it was apparent that he too felt the hex’s smothering effects. As Bella has known it wouldn’t, the hex hadn’t a chance again him, cast aside abjectly within the mind of her Master. The ease at which he did so flared a sense of both anger and relief within the shaken follower, her hands reaching out to him but not making contact in the slightest, unable to do anything. When feelings of sadness and pity subjected themselves on her account, apparent in his gaze upon her, Bellatrix nearly cried out, wishing for such a torturous look to end. That one thing that the Lord Voldemort could do to truly hurt her was to display a sense of disappointment in her abilities, for he was the one to teach her the Dark Arts and the power of dueling. He was the one to make her what she was, and disappointment was something that killed her inside. In silence she told herself lies: that she hadn’t had her guard up against hexes as she should have, that she would have been able to handle herself perfectly fine had she had been ready. Minor things to build herself up just enough to be able to face the Dark Lord’s gaze, her lip trembling gravely. His words drove deeply into her heart, furthering her internal battle against herself. ”Pity,” he’d said. Pity. The last thing she wanted to hear from her Master, her delicate fear of disappointing him realized. But, he seemed to be laughing at her as he spoke, humored by her appearance, by her show. If that had been in attempts to lighten her emotional load, it certainly did not work. As her Lord turned from her, Bellatrix allowed her head to droop slightly, her gaze taking to the floor. Her ears listened carefully to the nearly silent motions of the Dark Lord, and latched on to every word he said after. Commended. He’d commended her for . . surviving? How lovely: being commended for surviving. That made it all the worse, for it set Bellatrix in the mind-state that he considered her to be ‘any other wizard’. Water filled her eyes as such a disgrace before she blinked them away, forcing herself to follow him through the door. ”I am not disappointed.” Bellatrix, finally, pulled herself up enough to stare at him in wonder. She had not nearly begun to forgive herself, however there were his kind words again: a light in her darkness. A small, distorted grin filled her features, mostly hidden by her hair. She would redeem herself if it took her the entirety of the mission to do so. She would do it, or die trying. She simply couldn’t handle another look similar to the one filled with pity she had just received. Not ever. The next room pressed harshly upon her tattered body, the heat attempting to suffocate her. Oh, no. She couldn’t stay here. As Bellatrix stood and stared at the walls that created the deathly maze, she quickly formulated a plan of her own. They would exit this room, fast, by her Master’s account, or she would wreck havoc upon the Ministry’s defenses in a way she was best at. Once again, Bellatrix drew herself close to her Master’s side, her wand firmly held in one hand: the other being occupied with feeling the magic course through the walls of the maze. Oh, no. She could not stay here. She would loose it here. After a while of following her Master’s better judgments, the two found themselves trapped within a four-sided brick box, opened slightly at the corners. At her Master’s command, the woman whisked her wand up closer to her chest, glaring out into the unknown corners of the maze with wary eyes. The endless walls reminded her too much of her cell in Azkaban, and eventually she could stand it no longer. She was sure her Master had never seen her in such a state of self-affliction; however she couldn’t help her actions. Call it claustrophobia, perhaps. Actually, that was probably exactly what it was. Turning towards one of the multi-colored brick walls, Bellatrix put the end of her wand upon the target and muttered a very powerful spell she had come to favor very much. Almost immediately the wall crumbled away to reveal a hole spacious enough for her Lord to comfortably walk through. Taking the initiative, however, Bellatrix stepped through first and went to work on the next wall. She just couldn’t take the walls anymore. The bloody walls would suffocate her beyond return. Upon breaking through the last wall, Bella turned to face her word, a sheepish look covering her face. ”I deeply apologize, my Lord.” That was all. He would know the rest; he always did. notes // mwahaha. claustrophobia was not somthing i ever thought to give bella.

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]

[voldemort]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 800px; background-image: url(http://i54.tinypic.com/242am3s.png); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: px px px px; border: px solid #ffffff;] Bellatrix seemed to be in physical pain for a moment, though he couldn’t imagine why. He’d given her praise, nothing besides the fact. He had no sarcastic meaning to his world, and he never did for his darling Bella. Perhaps for Rookwood or Lucius, but never for this female death eater. After all, why would he want to cause her harm? He found fun in poking fun at Lucius, or at taking a stab at any one else’s self esteem, but he had no reason to play with Bellatrix, and he hardly found pleasure in it. After all, she simply looked pathetic when it came down to her depression. No fight, no anger, simply sadness with in her eyes, and though it hardly touched his soul, something he hardly had anymore, he didn’t enjoy it and therefore had no reason to cause it. As Bellatrix followed him into the maze, he expect a quiet walk through the stone walls, perhaps a duel here or there, something to kill or torture along the way. However, it would seem as though his companion had another plan. Before he knew what was happening, something that hardly ever happened to the Dark Lord, there was a rather large hole in the wall, and Bellatrix had stepped through. It was seem as though it wasn’t a momentary wall blowing up fetish, for she continued the action and she was soon through the walls. All of them. The exit to the hot room was quickly found. The Lord of Darkness took another moment to look down upon Bellatrix, as he did to most. However, this female seemed to deserve more respect than most others. She had a way, a way that was unique to only her. She was beyond that of any female he’d met, not a pet of men, not a flaunt or a flirt, simple a girl that sought to do what is considered right to her own mind. Someone worthy of his presence. He gave that thought a moment to linger in his head before he pushed it away. He reached out a hand to gently patted her on the head, though his hand hardly touched her hair. Though she was worthy, he would keep his distance. She might trip over him if he was standing too close to her. ”Your apology is not needed Bellatrix,” he said, moving past her quickly. Through the exit of one room and through the entrance of another, he took his time examining the room. Unfortunately, it would seem the room was hexed to show a person’s least favorite room. It was similar to a boggart, but stretched over a room and made to make one feel weak and lost, in a place of one’s worst memory. The room was small by nature, but covering a long passageway, had been stretched, making the image much less believable. The door at the end of the hall was simple enough and not too far away, but for someone with a bad past and a weak mind, they might collapse in nerves and worry. However, the room hardly phased the Dark Lord. A small bed was visible in the corner, a chest at the side of the room. Fortunately, Bellatrix would not be able to see what the Lord saw, but would see her own most hated room. Grays and blues mixed and the world seemed quite a few shades more into the gray scale, but of course, that was exactly how the orphanage had been. He could see what this kind of scenario would do to someone, but it was a feeble attempt. Of course, after the last two, this was probably a last resort, something a tired ministry worker devised, the security being accepted because of the first two rooms, not this one. Nothing moved in the image, and nothing was attacking or trying to harm them. Pathetic, really. Making it to the door, he turned the knob and stepped through, the glory and pride of the Dark Lord showing through and they stepped into a room full or cabinets, which in turn were full of folders holding information. One of those folders held the location to his death eater, and he would succeed in freeing that man. Yet more strength added to his army, and yet more power to his cause. As the room seemed the be lit, he simply waved his hand. ‘Accio Grovet File’ And the manila folder was in his hands, as simple as that. ”Bellatrix, would you mind alerting the ministry of our presence somehow. I and you will be able to disapperate from this place. Make it. . . destructive, Bella,” he smiled again, already thumbing through the pages. The information would soon be found, and they would soon be out of this place.

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 663 // outfit // clicky // tagged // closed witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - Her Lord, whether he was particularly surprised or not, followed her through the layer upon layer of walls, arriving at the end of the maze along with her. Turning, she had apologized, only to see the Dark Lord staring down upon her. He said nothing for a while as he thought, and Bellatrix tilted her head down, more than ready to accept any wrath or punishment he might throw upon her, however no such thing occurred. Instead, he advanced on her and patted her head lightly, barely even a physical moment. He seemed rather pleased, and in response Bellatrix couldn’t help but lift her chin and set her gaze on his. He spoke, and she listened, a grin taking her features and making them somewhat pleasant. It was easy to see the woman she had once been, the woman whom had attended Hogwarts and married a once-adored man. Everything had changed now, and slowly her grin leaked from her lips, turning wicked and excited to be rid of this room in particular. Her fast-set goal to redeem herself seeming had been accomplished, Bellatrix trailed after him, watching at the next room morphed immediately to become something she most feared. The witch, whom had spent several long years awaiting the return of the Dark Lord, had not gone unscathed in Azkaban. The room around her morphed into a small, enclosed jail cell: barred, locked, and dismal. It was a few moments before the witch realized that she had stopped moving, and another for her to see the retraining jacket that had materialized upon her, forcing her arms across her chest. Of course, none of it was really there; however such a scene, especially after recently escaping the maze-room, struck fear into her heart. Such emotions did not last for long, though, as she set her jaw and began muttered charms to release her from the illusionary magic. Chains holding her to the back wall were attached to her tanned jacket, making her appear more of an asylum patient rather than a high security prisoner. The fear of the scene vanished almost instantaneously as she realized that this was not her greatest fear. A small smile replaced her determined-set jaw, her hair falling into her eyes as she cast them down. No, this wasn’t her greatest fear. Her greatest fear was the death of her beloved Master; keep alive by the memory of the first time he disappeared. The scene and all of its objects disintegrated into the area, allowing her to walk out of the restraining jacket and past the chains. The bars scattered as she passed through them, now able to see the door to the next, and last, room. The Dark Lord had apparently already entered. Entering herself, she looked upon her Master, commanding the targeted file to retrieve itself. And that it did, leaving its area on the opposite side of the room and appearing within the cold, pale hands of Lord Voldemort. Then he turned to address her, instructing her to cause destruction enough to make their presence known. Pulling her wand into the air, pointing it towards the ceiling, Bella spoke once and then released an un-spoken spell that immediately caused screaming from far above. Were the Dark Lord to view her destruction, he would see a bloody large reptile made entirely of dark magic running amok through the center of the Ministry. The snake had to be at least twenty feet in height alone with a never-ending length of body. The building shook violently as the snake crushed everything in its path, including several undesired half-bloods. However, the magical reptile of destruction morphed to allow the bodies of the pureblooded wizards and witches to remain intact, a special charm she had made sure to create when she had thought up the destructive snake long ago. After the snake had demolished everything in sight, it dissolved: the magic burning the words ‘Pitiful Ministry’ into every non-puritan left alive. ”Of course, my Lord.” notes // ~closed~

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]