Solo featuring Emma Vanity @emmasvanity & Sethos Flint @sethosflint When: at the Travers/Zabini wedding, ten minutes after her encounter with Emma
Approaching Sethos like a salacious viper, Bellatrix stepped in front of him and sent his company scattering with her mere force of presence. Her delicacy was not to be underestimated. Feminine curves heaved with delicious anticipation, slender limbs pale and lithe in the dancing light of the wedding reception. She looked as though she could be easily broken, snapped in two by perhaps his large hands or by the wand of any wizard who sought to put her in her place. The damned fools.
He'd been easy to spot, looming as he was, so unnaturally tall that he stood out like a sore thumb - or perhaps a hand ripped completely from the end of a broken wrist. Her eyes sparkled as she mused on it, a look of sheer abandon darkening their depths as she opened her mouth to speak.
"You should keep your whore on a leash, Sethos, my dear."
Stepping forward, she pulled her wand to her side, permitting it to hang freely with the sort of brazen openness that could get her counter-hexed at any moment. She didn't care. No one could match her - no one, except perhaps Rodolphus. The weapon swung loosely, dragging sparks across her flimsy gown and setting scorches into its pretty surface. Black hair draped around her face, fingers twitching with involuntary lust as a heady flush filled her cheeks and set her expression alight.
"She speaks too freely." Flicking her wand, Sethos was tongue-tied in a instant - not the sort of childish hex that could be thrown around at Hogwarts, but a more toxic magic that would have him choking on his own appendage if he didn't solve matters, soon. "And she rolls her eyes far too much. So, you see, I think it's only fair that I remove yours and let her see the result of her impertinence."
With absolutely no warning, she shoved a hand to his shoulder and forced him down onto a chair with a strength that came from nowhere, her wand at his neck in no time at all and her thick hair trailing his face as she pressed her own scandalously close.
This spell, she uttered swift and certain, wanting to watch the light leave his eyes. They glossed promptly, leaving him without sight, and she stepped back, bristling with adrenaline and waiting for panic to set in.
"No hard feelings," she simpered, a wildly guttural laugh creeping from her tongue. "Don't let it happen again."
She retreated, scooping up a glass of champagne and waltzing past Emma's little group of substandard celebrity fans as she went.
