"I expect you tonight, as usual," he wiped the blood from her split lip, "I hope you will learn that the Dark Lord is not always this merciful, my dear. Oh and do try to clean yourself up, Bella. You're bleeding." BELLAMORT.

She knew that she was losing him, and she did not have much time before he reached the gates of the castle. "Salazar, please!" she begged, struggling to meet his pace. "We need you! I need you!"

"She does not think that "lovers" is the correct term to describe their twisted relations, their rabid nights, his coldness, her willingness. They are not something; they are not nothing." BELLAMORT.