A/N - This is a Bellatrix/Voldemort drabble collection written for Gamma Orionis' OTP Boot Camp on the HPFC forum. Each drabble will be written using a word-prompt from the challenge - this first one is with the prompt "acrid". Please let me know what you think, reviews make my day :)

"You want him to suffer. He is filth. Wizards like him are the reason we purebloods are not given the respect we deserve."

The Dark Lord glared at the barely conscious man, who lay bound at their feet, as he hissed his insults. Bellatrix did not know who he was, only that he had refused to join her new master, and the acrid metallic reek of his congealing blood combined with the unpleasant tang of sweat which filled the cellar, told her he had been suffering for that crime for some time.

"You know the incantation, Bellatrix. Hurt him."

She turned back to the prisoner at his crisp order and obediently raised her wand slightly so that it was aimed at his heart. The dark magic she was about to attempt was beyond anything she had ever experimented with before. It made her secret studies of the dark arts, which as a schoolgirl she had thought were the height of rebellion, seem nothing more than childish games.

"Now, Bellatrix."

The harsh edge to the Dark Lord's voice made her jump a little.

"Crucio!" The incantation came out at a far higher pitch than she had intended and she thought it sounded rather weak in her voice compared to her master's commanding tone.

The man on the ground was flung backwards and gave a shout as he hit the wall behind him, but not the prolonged cries of pain Bellatrix was supposed to have produced.

"Do not think about the curse itself," the Dark Lord said with a touch of impatience. "It is complex magic, yes, but all that it really requires is a focus on the desired effect." He moved to stand behind her and settled his long, pale fingers gently on her shoulders. Bellatrix shivered slightly at his touch, finding his proximity unnerving.

"You hold the power over him. Think how good it will feel to hear him scream; to punish him for standing against us." The man on the ground seemed to have realised what he was talking about. His eyes had half opened and were looking up at Bellatrix, with a gaze that was half fearful, half defeated. As the Dark Lord's words washed over her, she realised that she really did want to hurt this man. It did not matter that he was nothing to her. He symbolised everyone who had ever thought her weak, patronised her, treated her like a child.

"Crucio!" This time the word sounded almost instinctive; a forceful shriek cutting through the silence and into the man's pathetic form, racking him with agony. He screamed, the most blood curdling, anguished scream she had ever heard, yet it was beautiful to her. It was the sound of power.

After a few seconds, she lifted the spell with a gasp. She was not quite sure herself whether it was out of shock at the effects her curse had produced, or from the feel of her master's fingers skating down her back as he released his grip on her shoulders.

"Very good, Bella. Again."