Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, which belongs to JK Rowling. I also do not own the lyrics to this song ("You're Not Sorry", by Taylor Swift), or the song "A Dream Is a Wish the Heart Makes", which inspired my title, and is written and produced by Disney. Enjoy!
A Dream Is a Wish the Heart Makes
All this time I was wasting
Hoping you would come around
I've been giving out chances every time
And all you do is let me down
Rodulphus entered his bedroom and peered into the adjoining bathroom, searching for his missing wife. Something lying on the dresser caught the corner of his eye. He walked over and picked up a silky heap of material. He ran his fingers lightly over the blouse and then, in a moment of white hot fury, hurled it across the room. It didn't belong there, any more than his wife belonged in his bed, any more than he belonged standing there, smelling the faintly snake-like odor radiating off of the delicate shirt. Some other man marking his territory. His wife wasn't his, not anymore. "Perhaps she never was," a small voice whispered in his ear. Rodulphus bellowed in rage, but then, gaining control, interrupted himself mid-howl. He gently picked up the shirt and folded it lovingly back into a drawer on Bellatrix's side of the room. No, he could deal with it in the morning.
How many times since that moment had he thought those words?
And it's taken me this long
Baby but I've figured you out.
And you think that it will be fine again
But not this time around.
Just as he slid the drawer mournfully back into place with a slight click, Bellatrix rushed in, slightly flushed, glancing back over her shoulder so that at first she didn't even notice him standing there.
"Bellatrix." He called her name. He approached his wife. And she turned to look at him. But the sharp look of cold disdain on her face before she could quickly mask it sent him reeling. It hit him harder than any punch, and hurt more than any curse. Finally, he could see what he had been missing all this time. What his brother had been trying to tell him. Why his in-laws couldn't meet his eyes. He saw the contempt in her eyes and knew that there was no comparison, not for her. His Master was the man he would never be and had never wanted to be. Until now.
(Refrain)
You don't have to call anymore
I won't pick up the phone
This is the last straw
Don't want to hurt anymore
And you can tell me that you're sorry
But I don't believe you baby
Like I did before
You're not sorry, no, no, no, no
Rodulphus gazed at her searchingly, desperately, his heart longing for her to turn, to just look at him, just talk to him, and his brain rejecting any such concept. He stood, frozen, as his wife's silence slowly sucked the air out of the room, out of his lungs. He was suffocating, standing there in agony, unable to process. What was happening to him? What was happening to them?
Suddenly, breaking the barrier between them as easily as she had thrust it up, Bellatrix turned and grabbed his hands, gazing up into his face, genuine sadness written on her own, her eyes, rather than her mouth, begging for forgiveness. Rodulphus took her in his arms, his fingers lightly stroking her soft skin, caressing her gossamer nightgown.
"I know," he murmured softly, "I know." And he did know.
He knew that her eyes lied.
But it was enough for him, enough to be second best.
You're looking so innocent
I might believe you if I didn't know
Could've loved you all my life
If you hadn't left me waiting in the cold
And you've got your share of secrets
And I'm tired of being last to know
And know you're asking me to listen
Cause it's worked each time before
Rodulphus closed his eyes and imagined that his troubles were over. He saw himself, younger, of course, standing next to his beautiful bride on their wedding day. Saw her bored expression as the silly little man read off their vows, could almost feel her desire to knock that stupid bowler hat off of his head and run laughing into the rolling meadows that stretched on past the lines of pristine white tents. He remembered laughing in spite of himself, and meeting Bella's look of surprise with such a tender expression that she smiled a bit, too. His Bella. She would always be wild, always be fierce, independent. He wouldn't want it any other way. He remembered bending down as time slowed, even in his memory, and allowing his lips to melt into hers a minute too early. And holding a kiss that lasted about a minute too long. But he hadn't cared about the surrounding crowd when they tittered and giggled, at the couple standing in front of an uncomfortable minister. He knew that they were all just jealous, because none of them could ever hope to be as happy as he was at that moment.
Then the scene changed slightly, fast-forwarding a few hours to their wedding reception. Greeting guests, his face hurting from all of the meaningless smiles he gave out, acting the part of the perfect gentleman before, at last, he could leave behind all of the chaos and be alone with the woman he could now call his own. Across the expanse of people and furniture, he saw Bella doing the same, flashing a quick smile at her guests, most of whom were snotty, stuck-up purebloods. He smiled to himself at the thought of her acting like this any other day of her life, acting like the daughter her mother had always wanted her to be. But just as soon as Druella had retired from her life as a mother into a half-full bottle of champagne, this Bella came out. The Bella that Rodulphus had always known existed, even if he had been the only one. Cyprus shuffled over, hunched with age and sickness, to kiss his daughter on the cheek and share a secret wink with her. He knew what she was sacrificing to give this show. And he loved her all the more for it.
Rodulphus returned to his guests, commenting on the food, the service. Anything but what he was really thinking. His head was spinning, he needed to leave. How long had it been now? Two hours? Three? He hoped that there weren't many left, desperately hoped that one of the house elves would have some sort of accident, and the party would end early.
Minutes more. He became slightly hysterical when he saw Mrs. Rosier return to chat with him for a second time. How much longer did he have to stay in this prison!? He thought that he would prefer Azkaban to this ordeal. He again glanced over at his wife, and watched her scanning the room, on the watch for any more possible company before she could slip away. He saw her shudder slightly as her eyes reluctantly slid over a very tall, thin man standing towards the back, in the shadows. Rodulphus frowned. He wasn't quite sure if he knew this man. He certainly hadn't come to greet him yet. But then again, he wasn't sure if he would recognize his own mother, so exhausted was he after listening to the raptures of more than 300 delighted witches and wizards. He saw a mysterious look cross his wife's face, one that he hadn't understood at the time, had dismissed as a trick of the light, but now knew the significance of. It said "This is all for you." Rodulphus knew that look well by now. She smiled at the stranger, and he melted away into the crowd, leaving behind him the mass of people.
Looking back, Rodulphus wondered for how many people that smile had been their last earthly remembrance, the last sight they would ever behold before their bodies crumpled to the floor in a mangled heap under the supervision of those cold eyes. How many lights had been stolen by the secret darkness?
(Refrain)
But, you don't have to call anymore
I won't pick up the phone
This is the last straw
Don't want to hurt anymore
And you can tell me that you're sorry
But I don't believe you baby
Like I did before
You're not sorry, no, no, no, no
You're not sorry, no, no, oh
The embrace ended too soon. Bellatrix pulled away, shakily, uncertain. "I should go to bed. I have to get up early tomorrow – the Dark Lord wishes to see me."
"I know," he murmured again, but this time the sadness seeped into his voice and Bellatrix cocked her head and frowned slightly at his tone, but she said nothing and climbed into the enormous king-sized bed, slid underneath the luxurious silk sheets, and curled tightly into a ball. To Rodulphus, it looked like an impenetrable fortress. But only to him.
Rodulphus sighed inwardly before, he, too, got into bed for the night, being careful to keep to his own side.
You had me falling for you, honey
And it never would've gone away, no
You used to shine so bright
But I watched all of it fade
As Rodulphus lay there, he again remembered how beautiful his wife had looked walking down the aisle, cutting the cake, dancing their first dance. He saw her glance over his shoulder towards the shadowy figure once again as they swayed on the dance floor. He woke up to find himself alone in his bed, his wife's side cold and barren. It was only then that he noticed the tear streaks on his pillow. Angrily, he pummeled the unfortunate object, and turned over, trying in vain to fall back asleep and revisit his happiest moments, before the sorrow, before the war, before his Master. Before that terrible silence that rang throughout his bedroom in the absence of his wife's breathing. Before that crushing weight sat on his chest. Rodulphus wondered if he'd been some plan, all along, just another assignment.
With a jolt, he realized that he didn't' care.
He didn't care about anything anymore.
So you don't have to call anymore
I won't pick up the phone
This is the last straw
There's nothing left to beg for
And you can tell me that you're sorry
But I don't believe you baby
Like I did before
You're not sorry, no, no, oh
You're not sorry, no, no, oh
No, oh, no, oh, no, oh
Whoa, no, no
Slipping back into an uneasy sleep, Rodulphus again saw his Bella, clad in white (for the first and only time).
"Bellatrix Black, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, so help you God?"
"I do."
Rodulphus smiled in his sleep.
And pushed down the nagging feeling that she hadn't been looking at him at all.