So, this story may have been sitting on my laptop for some time now. I have gone back and forth trying to work out the logistics of it, trying to decide if it would work, trying to decide if I should do it . . . but clearly I decided I am a glutton for punishment and have decided to start a brand new, multi-part, big old story. I have Trixie Black Lestrange to blame/thanks for this, giving me one small riddle that spurred a bloody breakthrough on figuring out the logistics of this.

Anyway, as always, please read, enjoy and leave a review if you have a moment!

The Purple Black


Bellatrix Lestrange was nothing if not loyal. She lived her life, not for herself, but was unashamed and even proud to declare that her life was that of her master's; she belonged to the Dark Lord and the Dark Lord alone. Not even her own husband had control over her. She had once sworn as a child that no man (or woman for that matter) would ever control her, she was a wild spirit, her personality like that of an uncontrollable fire. She was unpredictable, wild, running her course only where and when she saw fit. That was until she had discovered him. Unlike the many before him Lord Voldemort did not try to put out her fire, he nurtured it, encouraged it, threw every last thing at her to build her strength and let her run her course. He understood her. She found herself bending to his whim without question, following every last order like it was the last thing in the world she was about to do. She loved every minute of it. There was only one thing that he asked of her; her unquestionable, undying, fierce loyalty.

As she lay in her marital bed, listening to the soft breaths of her husband laying sleeping beside her, he was all she could think about. She had served him well for so long now, though she still remembered her early days within his ranks as if they were yesterday . . .

"Get up!" The Dark Lord hissed, narrowing his eyes at the young girl slouched against the wall.

Bellatrix Black held back the hiss of pain, pushing out with her legs as she forced herself up the wall to stand. She hissed as she unintentionally moved her left arm. She knew there was blood on her dress, she didn't need the sharp sensation coursing suddenly like fire in her veins to know there was dark magic coursing through her arm. It was her own fault. She should have been faster. Her eyes locked with the man now standing mere feet from her, her whole body ached terribly, her feet felt like led, her hair was wild and unkempt, she knew her arm was not the only place where she had spilt blood. They had already been duelling for hours but she kept going; because he asked her to. He had given her plenty an opportunity to stop and lick her wounds but she had persisted. She may have been young but she was not naïve enough to not realise the great honour that was bestowed upon her in being trained directly by The Dark Lord himself.

A small shadow of a smirk passed his lips and Bellatrix could not help but return it. Without warning she pushed herself away from the wall, firing a curse at the man and almost expertly dancing away as he tried to retaliate to her attempt to win their never-ending duel. But the day had been a long one and there was not a chance that a teenaged Bellatrix Black would ever win a duel against her master. They danced their way around the room, a flurry of spells exchanging between the pair as she held her ground as best as she could. A yell of triumph escaped the girl, though quickly the temporary look of glee on her face was replaced with wide-eyed horror as she saw the small cut she had made on her master's face.

Time seemed to stop for Bellatrix Black. The Dark Lord tilted his head slightly, raising one of his long fingers to his cheek as he paused for a moment before wiping the small graze. He drew back his hand, inspecting the blood on his fingers as if curious as to how it had gotten there.

"My Lord . . ." Bellatrix breathed.

He looked to her, a small breath of amusement passing his lips much to the girls confusion before without warning he uttered what he knew to be her favourite curse. She fell to the floor instantly, though she gripped onto her robes tightly, unable to sense the pains of her wounds as the intensity of the Cruciatus Curse coursed through every inch of her body. She barely realised when it was lifted, her body twitching unwillingly against the residual magic. She hadn't realised her master walking over to her, looking through the man as her vision was clouded she could only let out a small groan as she was pulled to her feet. She steadied herself, trying not to sway on the spot as she tried to regain her senses. She dared not to move as she felt her master's wand on her arm, her brow furrowed in confusion as she felt the pain in her arm lift. She stood there in obedient silence as one by one her hurts were remedied. It was only as the man lifted his hand to his own face, the cut on his face disappeared though the blood remained.

"My Lord . . ." Bellatrix breathed again, biting her lip slightly as the man reached out and placed his bloodstained fingers upon her to lift her chin towards him.

"You have done well . . ." Lord Voldemort murmured, "Though you stopped . . ."

"I—" Bellatrix winced as he made a slight shushing motion with his lips.

"You show great promise, Bellatrix Black," he breathed, letting his touch linger on the girl for a moment before he stepped away. His tone changed as he walked towards the large throne-like chair within the otherwise cleared room. "Though, I hear you are no longer to be a Black. Is this correct?"

Bellatrix couldn't help but blush slightly, looking down at the floor for a few moments before she gathered her senses and looked to see her seated master curiously raising an eyebrow at her in questioning. "Yes, My Lord." She nodded, "I am to marry Rodolphus Lestrange."

"When?" he asked.

"A week after my nineteenth birthday, My Lord," she said, "In a month's time."

"Rodolphus . . ." Voldemort mused, "he is a good servant, a warrior . . . Do you wish to marry him?"

"My father—"

"I know of your ways, Bellatrix, of your family's ways," Voldemort said, "I did not ask why you are to marry him. I asked if you want to."

Bellatrix took a moment's pause. She had known Rodolphus Lestrange for as long as she could remember. He was a respectable pureblood man, one whose family was just as ancient and noble as The House of Black, she knew why their parents had arranged their marriage. Although she was unsure of the match for some time, ever willing to find a way to rebel against her father's wishes, she had to admit she had grown rather fond of him. They had spent some time together both in and out of Hogwarts, learning about each other, even sharing secrets with the man she had only ever confided in her sisters about and it was more than true that they had gotten up to various things together both as Death Eater's and as if they were already a married couple. He had brought her to The Dark Lord. Though she knew he had possibly fallen for her far more than she had him, she knew her middle sister had been correct in telling her that they were the best possible match for each other.

She nodded. "I must marry," Bellatrix said carefully, "and if I must marry . . . and he is the only choice put before me, then I choose him."

The Dark Lord gave a small nod, summoning the girl towards him he could not help but smirk as she practically ran to kneel at his feet. He considered the girl as he brushed the wild curls from her face, not missing the small shudder his touched caused in the girl.

"You are to marry him," he mused as he let his hand rest on her curls, "expected to play the dutiful little wife. Run a household . . . bare his children to carry on the line . . . serve him."

"I serve only you, My Lord," Bellatrix insisted as she looked into her master's eyes, as if inviting him to read her thoughts and look for a lie that was not there.

"You will become distracted," Voldemort sighed, letting go of the girl and sitting back in his chair, "you will fall into the ways of a pureblood wife and attempt to shirk your responsibilities to me . . . I cannot have that Bellatrix."

"I won't!" Bellatrix pleaded, grasping onto the man's robes as she looked up to him wide-eyed, "I serve only you, My Lord."

"It will change Bellatrix," Voldemort rolled his eyes, hiding his amusement at the girl's reaction expertly, "you will bend to his whim and give him children, become distracted by the little brats."

"I won't," Bellatrix shook her head frantically.

"You won't have children?" The Dark Lord raised his eyebrows at the girl, leaning forward slightly and returning his gentle touch to her hair, "You would forgo that distraction?"

"I—" Bellatrix paused, distracted by his touch and her thoughts. She had never been particularly obsessed with the idea of having children, unlike her youngest sister Narcissa she had not seen the appeal in being the dutiful wife caring for babies and running a home . . . but she had always assumed that was where her life would go, had even had small discussions with Rodolphus on the matter that had almost made her truly want that life. However, there were many things that she had assumed would happen in her life, boring things, expected things, The Dark Lord had shown her she was both capable and able to do so much more than what she thought she was bound to do. She gave a small nod, "If that is what you wish, My Lord."

The Dark Lord smirked, taking the girls hand and gently pulling her to stand, looking deeply into her dark eyes, "It would please me, Bella . . . Assure me of your loyalty . . ."

"I am loyal," Bellatrix nodded, "I am devoutly loyal. I won't become distracted by such nonsense, I swear it. I won't have his children."

"Good . . ." The Dark Lord murmured, hooking a finger under the girl's chin as he drew her to be mere inches from his own. His finger traced her full red lips, "You please me, Bellatrix . . ."

"My Lord . . ." Bellatrix breathed as the man slowly leant down towards her . . .

She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to stare at the emerald green canopy hanging above her any longer. It had been many years since that particular event, though she still remembered it as vividly as she ever had done. She had sworn to The Dark Lord she would be loyal to only him, to always answer only his bidding and not do anything but what he had asked of her. She had done that for so many years, never once giving him any excuse to doubt her loyalty to him.

Her husband turned beside her and she turned her head to see his eyes partially open.

"Bella?" Rodolphus mumbled sleepily.

She hesitated for a moment, turning onto her side and letting the man place an arm around her torso, "Go to sleep, Rod," she whispered.

He sighed as he leant down and kissed her curls, closing his eyes as the man almost immediately fell back to sleep as his wife commanded. She wished it was that easy for her. She could not bring herself to think of anything but how she had failed her master, her mind racing with the possibilities of what would happen, what he would do, what she should do. The sun was almost up when Bellatrix Lestrange finally found some form of rest, more thoughts and memories intruding her dreams. Her sleep was restless, the dark witch too distracted by the plethora of emotions running through her as even in her sleep her hand lay almost protectively on her stomach, close to her unborn child.


I hope you enjoyed that, please do let me know what you think as I'd love to hear! I have the second chapter very almost done so I hope there won't be too long of a wait for the next chapter (I'm thinking of trying to get into the same regime I did with Tempted, one chapter a week, minimum).

The Purple Black