house of black

chapter 8: bewitching and beguiling.

The Moors, December, 1971.

Fog rolled over the dark grass as Bellatrix Black made her way closer to the rocky shoreline of the cliffs. She was not alone, dozens of other pure blood witches and wizards accompanied her. Dressed in Black, her long curls whipped around her face, tangling further with every step she could. She lifted the satin fabric of her gown up over her ankles so it wouldn't be caked in mud before the ceremony commenced. She was filled with an eager buzzing which moved from her throat all the way down into her thighs, filling her being with a nervous warmth she could not begin to understand or comprehend. She licked her lips, covered in salt from the sea air as she gazed up at the sky. It was as if the stars had been completely concealed by the inky blackness of night. Nothing pleased her more.

She arrived at her destination and perched herself upon a rock. Others stood around and observed each other- not daring to speak before He made his presence known. Bella joined in with their silence, eyes trained on the choppy waters as they crashed against the cliffs. She sensed a presence behind her and moved her head to see Rodolphus Lestrange looking down at her with the most curious expression on his face. With him stood Malfoy and Crouch, both of them watching the cave. Lestrange moved his hand silently to take her bare wrist. He seemed to study it carefully before Bella grew tired of his gaze and wrenched it away. Lestrange respected her actions and straightened up. His hair was long, not as long as Malfoy's, who's was secured in a ribbon (suspiciously similar to one her youngest sister owned) but long enough to blow around his shoulders. It was as dark as hers, curled too. He had dark eyes which made many people uncomfortable when they looked at him, because he always seemed to look for too long. He did not talk to excess, like Crouch, but when he said something it felt like he had been probing around the inside of your brain to find the perfect words you wanted to hear. Bellatrix respected the fact that he would make a great servant to the Dark Lord and nothing more.

The sea seemed to still and the group collectively held their breath as a figure emerged from the cave. He was tall, but not quite thin and not quite muscular. His skin seemed stretched tightly across his cheekbones and had a waxy quality to it. His eyes bloodshot and hair unkept. He was holding his wand, but it was concealed under his thick, black robes. Bellatrix inhaled and perked up, eager to drink in every word.

"Welcome, my friends." Came Lord Voldemort's voice. "Such a pleasure it is to have you here for such a fine occasion."

Bella could feel the pride fill up inside of her. Because he was right. This was a fine occasion.

"As you know, we are gathered here to induct some whom I believe, will be some of my most loyal followers. Those who have gone above and beyond to earn my trust." Voldemort continued.

Lucius straightened up behind her and Barty Crouch Junior grinned. Bellatrix ignored them, giving the Dark Lord the entirety of her attention.

"As I call you forth and you take my mark, know this-" Voldemort said, and Bellatrix would have sworn he was talking directly to her. "Once you are crowned by me, you can serve no one else. You must give the entirety of yourself to me, do whatever I ask of you. It is, after all, for the greater good of the Wizarding World."

Bellatrix inhaled, nodding quietly as she attempted to lean closer to the figure. Her position on the rock slipped slightly, causing her to fall forward only to be held in place by the firm had of Rodolphus. She felt eyes on her, including those of her Master and she flushed with embarrassment, shaking the hand off her shoulder.

"Let us begin." Voldemort said. "Crouch."

Barty left the group, moving down over the rock face as the eyes of dozen silent wizards watched him. Malfoy hummed quietly, watching the process unfold with a silent apprehension. Crouch hisses as Voldemort pulled out his wand and began silently branding his left wrist. Dark smoke seemed to appear and cloud his arm as Crouch held onto his elbow as if to physically force himself to remain still. It was difficult to determine if his face was contorted in pain or pleasure as he licked the corner of his lips. And then it was done. The Dark Lord called another's name and Crouch returned up the rock. Before he could even say anything Malfoy grabbed his arm to study the marking. The snake wrapped around the skull, moving across the skin and flaring its tongue. It was as black as the night and seemed to radiate coldness.