A/N — This is for Sarah [scrumptiousinternetllama]; I'm so sorry at how late this is! And I hope your holidays have been great :D

And thanks to Carmen for beta'ing.

Coral can be used to reconnect with nature and its variety of wonders.

Coral also attracts love and prosperity, particularly red coral.

Creativity and optimism are also qualities coral brings out.

Emotionally, coral brings inner peace, strength and understanding of purpose.

…oOo…

Unprompted, he rose to his feet. His lunch break was nearly over, but he had a sudden feeling … a sudden need to … leave. He wouldn't have been able to find the words to explain it, had anyone asked. Luckily, no one did.

He left the office wordlessly, opting for the stairs rather than the lift to avoid unnecessary conversation, and was soon out of the Ministry entirely.

When he reached the street he had no idea which way to turn, but thinking wasn't what had driven him to this point, so he let his body take over and lead him where it willed.

Where it willed, apparently, was a park just down the road. He couldn't recall ever seeing it before today, but then he'd never paid much attention to what didn't directly concern him. He pushed open the gate, stepping onto the grass, and the noise of the city suddenly seemed very far away. Too far away, if he were paying attention — but of course, he was not.

He stepped into the park, for the first time in his life absolutely fascinated by the wonders nature had to offer. The simple beauty of the flowers, the soft green grass, the gently sounds of the animals hidden from sight. It didn't occur to him to consider how out of place these things were, in the middle of London on a cold December day.

He turned slowly, back to the gate — not through any particular desire to leave, or any need to look behind him, but rather some sort of instinct that told him …

"Hello," she said, though he had no idea who she was.

"Hello," he repeated, voice tight. She was beautiful; easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with her thick, dark curls and pale skin, and her hooded grey eyes that seemed so clear, so penetrating … "Rodolphus," he said briskly, holding out his hand.

She gave him a questioning look, but smiled and placed one of her delicate hands in his much larger hand. "Hello, Rodolphus," she said. Her voice wasn't particularly soft, but it was low and soothing all the same. "My name is Bellatrix." His eyes were drawn to her lips as she spoke, a gentle red that could easily have been the result of lipstick, but there was something … natural about her that made him think it was not.

She turned abruptly, her skirt catching in a gentle breeze he hadn't noticed and floating around her knees. Not a word was said, but he knew — or perhaps it was that feeling, that instinct, again — that she expected him to follow.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered. He didn't want to break the easy silence that had formed around them, but he was just so curious about this strange, beautiful woman.

"What are you doing here?" she retorted, and then laughed. A short sound, more a bark than a laugh, but it fit her so well in a way he didn't quite understand. "I live here. Or, near here," she said, turning her head to give another gentle smile. "And you?"

"I … I went for a walk," he said, frowning. "I should be getting back soon."

She stopped then, and turned to face him fully, her face so heartbreakingly sad as she said: "Oh, but you only just got here." She paused for a moment, as if thinking. "Perhaps you could stay a little longer?" she asked.

He found himself nodding before he could even think it through — it was no matter, regardless, if he was late returning to work his father could easily get him out of any trouble he might be in.

"This is where I like to go in the afternoons," she said, spreading her arms wide and tilting her head up to the sky, letting the afternoon light bathe her face in warmth. "It's … peaceful."

"Yes, very … calm," he agreed quietly. "Beautiful." But by now his attention was entirely riveted on Bellatrix.

The look she gave him then, the glint in her eye, led him to believe she was a lot less innocent than she would have liked him to believe, that she knew a lot more than she was telling. But it was no matter to him. He was already captivated by this wonderful woman.

She led him through the park, showing him things he had never thought to care for — things he likely wouldn't care for now, had it been anyone else showing him. They walked for long enough that his legs began to tire and his breathing was short, but still he did not want to stop. But …

"And we're back to the gate," she said with a sad smile. "You said you had somewhere to be?" she asked. He nodded, though he would have liked to stay — she was nothing but polite, looking up at him with that same gentle smile, but he got the feeling that he was no longer wanted here.

Still … he would be back tomorrow.

As soon as he left the park, that feeling of peace and tranquility left him instantly, coming back just as easily as the usual noise of central London. But the memory of her did not fade so easily, and it was with thoughts of her still running through his mind that he walked back to work with.

.oOo.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as he stepped into the office. He wasn't particularly sorry — he'd made no attempt to hurry on his way home, and he would have returned to the park in an instant had he felt she would let him — but it paid to act contrite at times, or so his mother had told him.

One of his colleagues — he'd never bothered to learn anyone's names, he was only in this menial position for something to do — glanced up from his work to look at Rodolphus in confusion. "You've still got five minutes," he said, and Rodolphus frowned, checking the clock on the wall. He pulled up the sleeve of his robe, double checking the time on his wristwatch.

"Oh," he muttered, and then, louder, said: "Well, no matter." He put it down to her presence and quickly forgot about the issue.

.oOo.

"Hello, Rodolphus," she said, smiling that same smile, as soon as he'd stepped through the gate the next day. "I didn't expect you to return so soon." He thought she must have — why else would she have been waiting? the gate hadn't held any interest to her in yesterday's tour — but he didn't say as much. For no matter how kind and caring she may have seemed, he knew — in the same way he had known to come here — that there was a lot more to her; that there was a side of herself that she was keeping from him.

"Then I am certainly lucky to have run into you," he said instead, taking her hand in one of his. A look briefly crossed her features — there and gone too fast for him to fully process — but he knew instantly that he had done the wrong thing.

He dropped her hand quickly, but the damage was already done. She was a little more closed off, a little less willing to speak. There was a part of him that felt she might have been behaving closer to her true self in that moment than she had the day before, but he was quick to dismiss that. She was such a delicate creature; he couldn't imagine her being anything other than the beauty he had met yesterday. Perhaps she just didn't like to be touched?

"I am sorry," he said, taking a step away from her for good measure and ignoring every part of himself that willed him to do the opposite. "I should not have —"

"It's nothing to apologise for," she said, and her smile was back in place, if a little forced. "You just took me by surprise. I'm not used to meeting people."

He nodded — of course that was all it had been — and gestured into the park. "Perhaps another walk?" he asked. "Though I'm afraid I can't stay as long as I did yesterday."

"But you were here no time at all," Bellatrix said, more relaxed now, her smile seeming more genuine.

"Yes, I — I suppose," he said, a nervous smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

"No matter." She smiled again, though this time with a little more teeth than strictly necessary. "We can make the most of the time you do have, I'm sure."

"And I'll —"

"You'll be back tomorrow?" she interrupted, and though it was phrased as a question he knew there was no doubt in her mind.

"Of course."

.oOo.

"Rodolphus." She rose slowly, elegantly, from where she had been perched on the edge of a boulder, under that shade of a large tree. It hadn't occurred to him, but there shouldn't be need for such shade in this season, but the heat in the park didn't quite match the rest of London.

"Hello," he said. "You don't need to get up on my account."

"Oh, but that would be rude." Her lips twisted, vaguely resembling a smirk, and he was sure if he hadn't known her the gesture would have seemed slightly smug. "I suppose you can't stay long?" she asked, abruptly changing tack.

"No, I have to get back to work." Her eyes lit up with curiosity, and he supposed he had never actually told her much about himself. And she had shared so much of herself — or, her park, at least — that he thought perhaps he had been a little rude. "I work for the Ministry," he said after a pause.

"Oh?" She didn't seem overly surprised — perhaps she had already guessed, or didn't know what the Ministry was? Or perhaps it didn't particularly interest her, but he couldn't see that being the case. She was always so curious, wanting to know even the smallest detail.

"You had mentioned before … working with creatures," she said slowly.

"Yes, there's a … department … for that. I —"

"So you don't actually have … access to these … wonderful creatures you speak of?"

And she looked so disappointed that he couldn't help but embellish slightly, and say: "Of course I do. I just … not as much as I will have, soon."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I'm … due for a promotion soon," he said, nodding emphatically. "In a couple of months, in fact."

"Well that's a very long time," she said, "for one so clearly talented as yourself to wait."

"Yes, it — yes. But there's not much I can do about it."

"Yes, I suppose there isn't much you could do," she agreed quietly, but he could see that she was thinking, no longer focussing her attention on him or their conversation. There was a part of him that didn't want to know what she was thinking, but then a much greater part wanted to know everything about this mysterious, beautiful woman.

She looked up abruptly, a wide smile on her face, teeth white and looking oddly sharp, and said: "Perhaps you could stay a little longer? There's something I'd like to show you."

And how could he possibly deny her anything?

.oOo.

"Where are we?" he asked, looking up in wonder at the castle, somehow nestled in the centre of London, completely unseen. Though Bellatrix clearly had some form of magic, so perhaps …

"This is my home," she said, stepping through the large front doors as they opened on their own.

"Your — You live here?" he asked incredulously.

"That's what I just said, isn't it?" She sounded amused, but underneath it all, he felt he sensed vague irritation. Again, he pushed the feeling aside — Bellatrix wasn't like that.

But then … this place didn't quite fit her. It was dark and cold and didn't look lived in; there were no signs of the nature she so loved, and the draughty room left chills up his spine and goosebumps on his arms.

"I'll give you the tour," she said, turning quickly and ushering him to a wide staircase that took up the majority of the entry room.

She stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to face him; her hair was wilder than usual, a slightly manic glint to her eye — whether it was excitement or something else, he could not tell.

.oOo.

He steps into the office, dread filling his stomach though he can't think why. But then … the office is unusually quiet. Missing the usual buzz of voices, the rustle of parchment, and the tingle of magic in the air. Today, it's just … empty.

But there's a haze to the office that he can;t explain, as though he's looking through fog or perhaps a clouded window.

He startles as a drop of water lands on his face, and wipes it away with the back of his hand, the skin coming away with a faint smudge of red. He swallows thickly, that feeling of dread building as his heart pounds loudly in his ears.

And then, the room becomes clearer, the fog lifts. And he can see clearly what he could not before.

There are bodies, everywhere. Lifeless and covered in blood.

Those by the door are sitting at their desks, as though taken by surprise, but most are lying haphazardly on the floor or across surfaces, as if they had made some attempt at running from the inevitable. Even the boy who brings 'round the larger packages that can't be safely levitated …

.oOo.

He awakes with a start, sweating and gasping, back in the field. He couldn't remember falling asleep — couldn't even remember feeling tired. But this was one truth he could not ignore.

For once, he is alone.

He looks down at his shaking hands, eyes wide. Red drips from his skin, staining his trousers and the grass around him, and suddenly … he knows.

…oOo…

But Bellatrix was not coral.

Bellatrix was the darkest of Blacks.

A/N — The story was inspired by La Belle Dame sans Merci. I took some liberties, but there's enough spoilers that I didn't want this at the beginning.