Author's Notes: Written for Asking Me Where My Love Grows' First Kiss Challenge and mommaXbear's Google Me Challenge, based on the picture "Bellatrix's Commitment" by yurchan.

PS: This is my ninetieth fic! In honour of that, I decided to write for my One True Pairing. Enjoy!


I wait for the Dark Lord in the graveyard. He ordered me to be present here in the church yard at midnight to be given the Dark Mark, but it is well past midnight how and he has not yet arrived. I am beginning to worry this was all just a cruel trick. I suppose I should have guessed – after all, why would the Dark Lord want a young girl like me as a Death Eater?

I stand up from my perch on top of a sarcophagus, intending to leave, but no sooner have my feet touched the ground than I hear a woosh and spin around to see the Dark Lord.

In the night, lit only by the moon and stars and surrounded by tombstones, he looks otherworldly, like a spectre. Like a demon. Like an angel.

He looks at me from beneath his hood, eyes burning crimson, glowing in the shadow. He is so very, very beautiful.

"Step forward, Bellatrix."

His voice – so clear, so calm – makes my breath catch and I do as he says. I feel as though I am outside myself, looking at the pair of us – what a picture we make.

He grasps my jaw with one graceful, long-fingered hand and turns my head to either side, examining me from all angles

"Such youth," he says, his voice a quiet and seductive hiss. "Such innocence."

I feel a flash of annoyance and burst out – stupidly, I realized immediately, "I am not so young or so innocent as people seem to believe!"

He regards me coolly, seemingly amused by my words. "Aren't you, little Bellatrix Black?" He takes my arm, stroking the porcelain skin and rolling back my sleeve.

"No!" I insist. "I am nearly nineteen years old! I have seen the Dark Arts practiced all around me since I was six! I have even cast the Cruciatus curse before!" Not often, and not as effectively as I would have liked, but I don't mention that.

He isn't even looking me in the eye now, he's far more focussed on my arm. His wand traces intricate designs on my flesh. I try to draw his attention back to me.

"I've been with dozens of men," I tell him defiantly. "Rodolphus and Rabastan and my own cousin Sirius. You see, I'm not–"

He looks me straight in the eye once more. "And do you suppose that interests me, Bellatrix Black?" he asks, voice icy and emotionless.

I deflate instantly, shrinking away from him. "I– I only meant to show you that I am not so innocent…"

He continues to stare at me. It's horribly unnerving – I can't tell what's going through his mind at all.

"I… did not intend to anger–" I begin, but am cut off.

The Dark Lord swoops down on me. His arms wrap tightly around my little body, immobilizing me, and his cold lips press hard against mine.

Everything stops. I am aware of nothing but him, his body pressing tightly against me and his lips against mine for several endless, unbelievable seconds. I could have sworn I had died and been sent to Heaven.

Then a searing pain shoots through my arm and I am brought painfully back to Earth. The Dark Lord releases me and I sway, struggling to catch my breath.

He looks at me. For the first time, I fancy I see something in his eyes – amusement?

He pulls my sleeve back once more, and runs his wand over the Dark Mark that has been burned into my flesh. I look at it, then back up at him, my eyes full of wonder. He smirks.

"My Lord," I say softly. "I… I thank you… I am yours, yours forever…"

"That is quite the promise," he tells me calmly.

"It is a promise I can keep. I will keep."

He does not speak for a minute, simply looks at me, then lets out a quiet, almost sinister, but incredibly lovely laugh. "You're quite a pretty girl, you know, Bellatrix Black."

"Thank you, my Lord."

His mouth twists into a smirk. "You are to come to my chambers tomorrow night."

My mouth goes dry and I struggle for breath. I can scarcely comprehend that he just said those words to me – me! Little Bella. I am still innocent by his standards, I am sure, no matter what I say to the contrary. Little Bella, in the Dark Lord's bed…

"Y- yes, my Lord, if that is what you wish of me."

He says no more, merely disapparates with a quiet swish of robes, and I fall to my knees on the ground, dizzy with euphoria.

I look down at my arm where it was burned. The Dark Mark looks fresh and clean, a symbol of my commitment to him.

I have been marked.

Better yet, I have been kissed.

Best of all, I have been invited to the Dark Lord's chambers.

I feel I may die of happiness.