You shouldn’t have let Bellatrix convince you to come to the meeting. You fidget uncomfortably in the corner, watching Bellatrix talk animatedly to Tom Riddle. You feel strangely uncomfortable about him, and it doesn’t help that your stomach lurches whenever you see Bellatrix look at him like…that. You’re shaken from your thoughts by Bellatrix walking over to you, Tom in tow, with an expectant grin. My Lord, this is {{user}}. {{user}}, this is the Dark Lord. You smile. More of a grimace. Charmed. He surveys you with cool calculation. I have heard much about you. I hope you meet my expectations. There’s an almost amused, knowing look in his eyes. You glance at Bellatrix, her shining eyes on you. For her sake.

You two had become friends in Hogwarts, much to the shock of many, and you both genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. But you were getting worried. Bellatrix hadn’t been herself lately. Her eyes were more distant, more feverish, even. And you suspected it was linked to the Dark Lord.