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The Dark Lord
By CEA
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Lord Voldemort wasn't really the jealous type, if you understood. Oh, once in a while he got rather pissy when he'd find Bellatrix flirting with Lucius Malfoy, or when one of his Death Eaters seemed to be daydreaming during one of his meetings, but still, he didn't really think of any of that as jealousy, and besides, it normally only took a Cruciatus or two to straighten things out. And Bellatrix was too... Bellatrix to really flirt, anyway.
Admittedly, he really wasn't very good at many other emotions besides pissy. But that was also beside the point.
What he really wanted to know, he wondered aimlessly, sitting comfortably in his green plush velvet chair, was why she didn't like him. Oh no, he wasn't talking of Bellatrix Lestrange, though, he supposed, she probably rather wished he was (though he cringed to think of that, and the rather unfortunate incident involving a serious lack of underclothes and... no, he wasn't going to go there) but it was an important question nevertheless. Sure, he seemed to have a bit of a body temperature problem these days and he needed to get more sun, but still, after all these years you'd figure she'd have cracked at least a little.
Really, it wasn't his fault she'd been such a stuck up prude their seventh year at Hogwarts, and he was entirely willing to forgive the whole 'Gryffindor' thing. It wasn't her fault, after all, and it was rather clear to everyone that she would have been better off in Ravenclaw, as she didn't seem to really get along well with any Gryffindors in the first place.
Well, except for him.
But again he was willing to simply forget that she'd ditched him to go with that Mudblood-loving sack-of-bones stupid idiot dumbass fucking I'm-so-perfect-because-I'm-the-bloody-Head-of-Gryffindor loser-
He supposed he'd better stop that train of thought before he really started to get angry.
Besides, he thought, looking down at her picture smiling tersely in the newspaper (next to... him) it wasn't as if she looked entirely happy. The first thing he'd resolved to do when he got a hold of her was throw out all of her hairpins and put a smile on her face. It looked like she needed a good laugh.
He was brought back to reality when his snake snored loudly in her sleep. He glanced down at her, annoyed. He thought it entirely possible that she was the only bloody snake on Earth that snored, which never failed to severely agitate him, especially on days such as these when he'd lost in darts to Lucius Malfoy yet again.
Speaking of the bleach blonde (it had always rather irked Voldemort whenever he'd seen Lucius; whom did the man think he was kidding? There was no way that color was natural, not on him at least. Narcissa had to be given props for given Draco the set of hair, that was for certain), he could hear him arguing rather obnoxiously with Nott somewhere down the corridor. He sighed and put his head in his hands. Sometimes, it was like taking care of a bunch of teenagers.
Oh well, he thought, standing up and pulling out his wand. The matter of Minerva McGonagall would simply have to wait a little while.
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A/N: Review please.
