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RP Log: Voldemort/Millicent - The XanaDawn Experience [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Freeform RPGing Amongst Friends

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RP Log: Voldemort/Millicent [Sep. 20th, 2004|06:00 pm]
Freeform RPGing Amongst Friends


Characters: Mostly Voldemort and Millicent Bulstrode - appearances by Theodore Nott, Timothy Nott, Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Paul Parkinson
Setting: Some secret place where Voldemort's lair is
Summary: Ooh, the little Death Eaters in training are about to come of age. Draco is not a happy camper, and there's definitely death.
Rating: R

Nagini slithered to his chair, nudging her head beneath his hand. His bony fingers stroked her head lightly. He waited for his newest arrivals: the young, unmistakably loyal recruits. Most of their parents were his benefactors, the ones who laboured for him before that blasted Potter brat came along. "It won't be long now, Nagini," he told her, his red eyes noting the confused look on Wormtail's face. He cowered - rightfully so - in the corner, jittery and nervous, and for a moment, Voldemort perpended exactly why it was he kept the lousy invertebrate around.

And then one by one, loud cracks interrupted Nagini's hissing. Draco Malfoy fell to his knees instantly, followed by Theodore Nott. Voldemort's thin lips twisted into a kind of smile that made him look all the more sinister.

No matter how hard she tried, Millicent still hadn't quite gotten used to apparating. As a result, when she appeared in front of Voldemort, she took her usual brief moment to wonder how she managed not to splinch herself, before dropping to her knees and bowing to Voldemort. Casting a quick eye up from the floor, she noted to her dismay that Pansy hadn't yet arrived- was she TRYING to get herself in trouble? Didn't she realise that this was not the sort of thing one arrived late for?

Voldemort did not get to his feet immediately. Nagini immediately began to circle the group, slipping around them in graceful figure eights. She raised up, her head ducking into the face of her first quarry, the girl who could only be Edmund Bulstrode's daughter Millicent.

There was another loud crack, and a delicate girl arrived. Her mind was full of concern and doubt, Voldemort perceived instantly. He could smell it without even having to tap into her thoughts. The amusement vanished from his face.

Millicent had to work to repress her gulp when Pansy arrived late- nothing good could come of her tardiness, and then she hesitated before bowing to the Dark Lord, making things that much worse.

Once the last girl had dropped to her knees, Voldemort rose, his robes dragging on the cold stone floor. Nagini moved onto the next fledgling, turning her head toward him along the way, hissing something which Voldemort simply nodded to.

"Welcome, Death Eaters. That is what you will become after tonight. Or you will leave this place," said Voldemort quietly, stopping in front of Millicent. "Rise, Bulstrode,"

Draco Malfoy's jaw clenched, and Voldemort knew at once the boy thought he would be the favoured one, the first to be called into service. The boy needed to learn a lesson, just as his father did years before.

A thrill rushed through Millicent as she stood, head still bowed. She was incredibly pleased to be the first one asked to stand; finally, FINALLY after seven years of trying, she'd beaten Draco out on something. Draco may have completely and utterly won Pansy over to him, but Millicent was the first picked by the Dark Lord, and that was something far better than even possession of Pansy. She stood silently, proudly, awaiting instructions.

"Are you loyal, my friend?" The other girl stirred under Nagini's gaze. Voldemort did not turn, even when Nagini started hissing wildly. "Will you serve me with your life?"

"Yes, my Lord. My life and all I have to give," Millicent replied. She fully meant it- this was what it seemed her whole life had been building up to, where she was recognised as something other than Millicent the large, the unfeminine, the freak. Where she could be useful, for once in her life.

"Would you prove it?" asked Voldemort, placing one of his skeletal hands beneath her chin to tilt her face up. "Here. Tonight." These last were not questions.

"Of course," Millicent answered without hesitation, not flinching in the slightest as her head was brought up. She gazed right into Voldemort's red eyes, now that she had permission to look up.

"Good," he answered, the tiniest hint of a smirk. He continued to study her face as he said, "Parkinson, come here."

The girl let out a small "oh" before rising and rushing to his side. She stood there, waiting for further instruction. "Did I tell you to rise? On your knees."

She dropped to her knees in front of Draco. Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Bulstrode, Nagini slinked to his side. "You have affection for this girl."

"I... yes, my Lord, I do. We've been very close since we were young children." Now Millicent had to work to keep her breathing even, because she had an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach of what might happen next.

With that Voldemort turned away from Millicent to face the Parkinson girl. "Your fathers speak so highly of you both," whispered Voldemort, laughing softly to himself.

And then from the corner, Peter Pettigrew squeaked and disappeared through a door. The silence in the room was thick, and Voldemort let it grow until finally, Lucius Malfoy, Edmund Bulstrode, Timothy Nott, and Paul Parkinson emerged from the other room, hooded. All walked proudly toward Voldemort, all of them fell to their knees when he turned his gaze to them.

Millicent was unsure of whether to remain standing or to kneel again, but decided to err on the side of safety and went back down onto her knees. When she saw her father come into the room, she bent her head once more to the ground- she had to make him proud. Show him that he hadn't failed as a parent. His presence made her reactions that much more important.

Voldemort nodded to Nagini, who immediately slithered to Paul Parkinson, curling her long body around one of his legs and up to his dropped wrist.

"I once said 'I do not forgive. I do not forget.' When I demanded thirteen years of debt, some of you thought your service would be enough. And now, several of you will repay that debt tonight," hissed Voldemort, leaning down and placing his hand upon the top of Millicent's head. "Stand, my friend, my loyal one. You are going to assist me... collect my debts."

Millicent rose to her feet once more, anxious to find out exactly how she would be helping to collect the 'debts' that Voldemort spoke of. Staying silent for so long, in the company of so many, was rather against Millicent's nature, but between the situation itself and the attention of the Dark Lord, she found it easier to keep quiet than usual.

Voldemort crouched beside the Parkinson girl, reaching one of his bony fingers out to stroke her cheek. He leaned forward. "You would have done well had you the fortitude that young Bulstrode here has shown," whispered Voldemort, pulling back to lift her face to meet his. "Instead I hope you enjoyed what little life your apprehension has brought you."

He stood once more, turned to Millicent. "Your father has versed you well in the Curses, I presume? I would expect nothing less from a Bulstrode."

"Yes, my Lord, he's been tutoring me since Sixth year," Millicent responded, eyes flickering briefly to Pansy before returning to Voldemort. What HAD he whispered to her- and, Merlin, she sincerely hoped the whispering and the question to her weren't interrelated.

"Your friend does not have the courage to be loyal. She must be dealt with. I spent too many years waiting for my so-called loyal Death Eaters to come to my aide. I will not tolerate that in my future Death Eaters. You will teach her that it will not be tolerated. Show her what power you have," Voldemort said, waving one of his hands toward the girl now opening sniffing. His eyes flickered toward Bulstrode senior and then back at his daughter.

"Certainly, my lord." Millicent nodded brusquely, pulling her wand out from its resting spot up her sleeve, clutching the familiar ebony handle like it could save her from this. As Millicent approached her, Pansy was begging, crying, telling Millicent to stop, reminding her that they were best friends.

Millicent briefly caught Pansy's eyes, before looking beyond her; she drew upon her reserves of painful memories of Pansy, all the times she'd maligned Millicent's father and abandoned Millicent by herself, for Draco, and spilled Millicent's secrets, to Draco. The familiar heat of anger sliced through her mind, making it that much easier for her to point her wand at Pansy, shout "Crucio," and ignore Pansy's screams and tormented writhing.

Voldemort cackled softly to himself. Nagini hissed loudly, rearing up to Paul Parkinson's face, still twisted around his limbs. The wizard squirmed in helplessness, watching as his daughter writhed and shrieked on the floor.

Voldemort came up behind Millicent, leaning down so that his skull-like face was beside hers. "Excellent. Except... except I don't think she's not screaming loud enough. What you're casting is righteous anger. It won't hurt her for long. The need to cause pain is there, I can sense it. Unlock that door. Join me, and gain power beyond your dreams."

Millicent tried to focus on something that would make the spell stronger- and she was no stranger to sadism, so usually it wouldn't be too hard, but it was PANSY, and the old anger was all she could think to drudge up. She concentrated intensely, but Pansy's screams only grew minutely louder.

There were many things that Voldemort knew about his Death Eaters that they were unaware of. Softly, audible only to Millicent, he whispered, his voice smooth, "You'll know why he's done what he's done when you open that door."

Millicent's eyes widened sharply, and without realising it her grip on her wand tightened to the point where her knuckles started to whiten. Pansy was screaming far louder than she had been earlier, as Millicent's own pain lashed out, made her want to cause pain, to see someone else writhe and scream and beg and plead and bleed.

Voldemort's lips curled into a demented grin. The happiness inside him welled up. The Bulstrode girl would prove to be a more powerful subject than even Bellatrix. There would be no way for Draco Malfoy to outdo her, and Lucius Malfoy was not done repaying his debt. Not even a few vile years in Azkaban were penance for his betrayal. "You will be my new favourite, Millicent," he hissed, almost caressingly, to her; then coldly, "Now collect my debt."

Not even seeing Pansy as Pansy anymore- just someone else who didn't do anything and had to pay for it- Millicent immediately snarled, "Avada Kedavra!" at her, watching the eerie green light leave her wand with rapt fascination, and watching Pansy's lifeless body crumple to the floor as it hit her, smiling disturbingly wide in triumph. "I've taken her life for you, my Lord," Millicent stated, not even the slightest hint of remorse in her tone as the power thrill of what she'd just accomplished rushed through her.

Voldemort's wand was out of robes before the words left Millicent's mouth. Paul Parkinson struggled hard against Nagini, who immediately released her grasp, leaving the broken, sobbing wizard to crumple on the floor. "It's disgusting, isn't it?" Voldemort asked Millicent, raising his wand toward Parkinson. "They left me - alone and incorporeal - for thirteen years. You would never do that to me, would you." Again, it was not a question, but he waited for an answer, nonetheless.

Millicent shook her head, casting a final glance at Pansy's lifeless body. She turned to watch the elder Parkinson, clucking her tongue. "I wouldn't rest until you were once more in your right form, my Lord."

"And that is why you will be rewarded," said Voldemort, finally looking to the other two still on their knees. Draco's jaw was clenched even tighter as he stared into Parkinson's lifeless face.

"That does not please you, Draco? Has your father -" Nagini was now slowly climbing Lucius's draped arm. Lucius did not dare look up at the mention. "-not taught you the value of disguise? Something he knows all too well. Tell me, Draco, how much would you enjoy to hurt me for claiming what I am owed? And know that I will know if you're lying. I can smell the temptation all over you."

"I would not enjoy that, my Lord," Draco said swiftly, his body relaxing instantly.

"Is that a good enough answer for you, Millicent?" Voldemort said, turning to her.

A smirk crept onto Millicent's face as she regarded Draco, and she tapped her wand against her side. "Well, my Lord," she started, the corners of her mouth turning up even more, "He's been very well known to try to weasel his way out of things by saying what he thinks one wants to hear."

"Just as his father has done for decades," Voldemort answered, tapping his wand against his palm. "Tell me: do you think he should watch you take the Mark now, while he has to wait until I say he's ready?"

"It's up to you, my Lord, although I think it would be good for his over inflated ego," Millicent replied, internally delighted at the idea of how much Draco must be BOILING inside.

"I think he should wait. And there's no sense in him witnessing an act he may never partake in," Voldemort said, turning away from Draco. "Wormtail, take them from my sight. Leave the Bulstrodes to me."

"Yes, M'lord," Peter chimed, running forward and taking Theodore and Draco, who's face was as red as Voldemort's eyes, by the arm and leading them out of the room. Only Edmund, Millicent, and Parkinson's dead body remained.

"Edmund, rise and take your daughter's arm. Hold it out, as you once did."

"Yes, my Lord," Edmund said in his deep, booming voice. He walked up to Millicent, offering his daughter a brief proud smile, before taking her left arm and pushing the sleeve up to her shoulder. He turned it over, exposing the underside, and both Bulstrodes stood in wait.

Voldemort took a hold of Millicent's arm, pulling her toward him and wrapping his fingers around her flesh. He pressed his wand into her skin, whispering a soft incantation that neither Bulstrode could hear. He'd done that from the beginning of the Death Eater and would continue to do so. When he withdrew his wand, the Mark burned bright red on her flesh. "And now you have my power standing behind you."

"I am honoured, my Lord," Millicent said, the slight tightening of her jaw the only sign that she felt the pain of the fresh Mark. She looked at it in wonder, turning her arm a bit to get a better look as her father let go of her arm.

Voldemort inclined his head to the side, the only sign of acknowledgment. Nagini was now slithering up to Millicent, rising up and nudging her head under Millicent's hand. "And now your first task..."

Millicent smiled, and pet her fingers down the centre of Nagini's head, listening intently.