Chapter One
"Not to be a stick in the mud or anything, but what are you doing in my house?"
Bellatrix stood in the doorway, clad only in a long, white nightgown. Her gaze was fixed on Lucius, whose white-blonde hair stood out shockingly in the darkly furnished sitting room.
"Now, Bella," Lucius simpered, and he obligingly stepped backwards so that she could see everybody in the room. "The Dark Lord needed a meeting place tonight. Urgently. Seeing as you were sweet enough to give me a key…" He gave a half-apologetic shrug.
The moment Lucius had stepped back, Bellatrix's eyes had gone to the pale, dark-haired man who was sitting in one of the armchairs, lazily tracing his fingers on the rim of an empty wine glass. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and she immediately tuned Lucius out.
"Not a problem," she murmured. She briefly tore her gaze from her Master's to flash a smile at her cousin, Evan Rosier, who was sitting, sprawled, on the carpet. Bellatrix had a lack of chairs in her house. She rarely had guests. It was a starter house, really, a place where she could gain some much needed independence from her parents now that she was seventeen. The Dark Lord had never, never convened a meeting here. Usually the older men received the privilege of hosting their Master. Never a seventeen-year old girl, never her sparse sitting room.
"I do hope that you don't mind the intrusion, Bella." Her Master's voice was quiet but clear. "As it happened, your peers had a… mission in this area tonight. A meeting was needed to check on the status of their assignment." His lips curled in a half-smile. "Speaking of which, now that the lady of the house is present… let us begin."
The Dark Lord turned to Antonin Dolohov, who was barely visible, leaning against the wall, clad in a black robe. Bellatrix shifted in the doorway. Noticing the barely lit room, she quickly pointed her wand at one of the lamps near her Master. The light gave him a ghostly look, throwing shadows onto his face and emphasizing the near-translucence of his skin.
Dolohov cleared his throat. "My Lord," he began, "Our mission was as successful as we had hoped." He paused, glancing down at his boots before gazing directly at the Dark Lord. "Gideon and Fabian Prewett are dead."
Rosier chuckled softly from his spot on the carpet. "Gave us one hell of a fight, though, right, Avery?"
Avery nodded assent as Bellatrix sunk onto the ground next to Rosier.
"Wait," she murmured, and she looked at the Dark Lord once again. "Who, exactly, was involved in the mission? Or execution, to be more precise."
Her Master's eyes betrayed his amusement at her remark, but his tone was serious as he spoke. "Dolohov, Malfoy, Rosier, Avery, Nott, Goyle." He gestured to each young man with a wave of his white hands.
Bellatrix was annoyed, too much so to hide it. "That's everybody except for me!" She paused and added as an afterthought, "Well, and Crabbe, if we're counting an oaf like him, and we are, since you mentioned Goyle." A look of genuine hurt crept onto her beautiful face and she twined her fingers nervously in her lap. "Have I done something to displease you, My Lord? We all know that I am one of your best fighters. Why have I been excluded?"
"Bella," sighed her Master. Her anger evaporated with his use of that treasured nickname. Nobody called her Bella except for her father, when he was in a good mood. And the Dark Lord. He had called her that ever since their meeting, when she was but sixteen. He had twirled one of her thick, dark curls around his fingers and told her that Bella actually meant "beautiful." Fitting, he had said, for you.
Her Master's voice called her back to the present. "I am not displeased with you, nor am I excluding you with malicious intent. I simply assumed that you were otherwise occupied."
"Otherwise occupied?!" Bellatrix squeaked. "My Lord, you know that nothing comes before my work for you. Nothing."
The Dark Lord's lips twisted in a smile again. "Yes, Bella, I know that. But this mission was months in the planning. While we were organizing this 'execution,' as you so aptly described it, you, my Bella, were studying for your N.E.W.T. exams. As the only member of my Inner Circle who is still at Hogwarts, you were unable to participate in this assignment. Everybody else was available and ready."
"Oh." Bellatrix looked at her crimson-painted fingernails, her face turning the same shade. It was July now, and yes, for the past three months, she had been buried in her textbooks. She was a good student, hard-working and determined, with a dogged stubbornness when it came to getting top marks.
"I am sorry for questioning your reasoning, My Lord," Bellatrix said softly, still staring fixedly at her fingers. "It is not my place to do so."
Lucius was looking at her disapprovingly and Nott shifted uncomfortably.
The Dark Lord's fingers twitched on his wand, which seemed to appear from nowhere. He contemplated it, turning it in his fingers for several moments, then he looked up at Bellatrix.
Her breath caught in her throat as his scarlet eyes met her brown ones.
"No more apologies, Bella. Now be a good girl and fetch Goyle a healing potion. One of those Prewett brothers sliced his chest and I will be short an… oaf if he dies."