She watched through dark eyes as the cluster of people shuffled from the chamber, their black robes billowing out behind them. They would immediately retreat to the front gate before Apparating away; none of them really wanted to remain here any longer than they had to. They did not speak, too afraid to induce the wrath of the formidable wizard who still stood studying them all closely.
"Bellatrix, come closer."
A faint blush sprang to her cheeks as her name fell from his lips. Worrying her lower lip between her teeth, she tried to push down the emotions that he called forth. She ducked her head in submission, and locked her gaze on the floor of the now empty room. She delighted in the tingle that spread through every inch of her body as she moved closer to him.
Bellatrix, with her usual grace, lowered herself to her knees before him. When she spoke though, her words lacked confidence. She was never sure of herself around this man, never knew what to say, never knew when she did something right. There was just no way to tell with him.
"Yes, my lord?" she inquired timidly, her gaze dutifully trained on the smooth marble of the floor beneath her. A swirl of black robes approached her, and then there was the feel of ice on her skin. His fingers were under her chin, lifting her eyes to his.
His piercing, red eyes bore into hers for a long moment, scrutinizing every awkward shuffle that she made. Just when she thought she would go mad, he spoke. His voice was smooth and as slick as ice, and she struggled to ignore the fire it lit inside her.
"It seems as though there is a traitor amongst us. Someone has been leaking information, giving away the names of my most loyal servants. Would you know anything about this, Bellatrix?"
Her body jerked as though he had dealt her a physical blow. Was he accusing her? Had he forgotten everything that she had done for him through the years? How much she had risked? How she had put everything aside to serve his whims?
She swallowed to clear the lump that had formed in her throat. "N-no, my lord! Of course not! I knew nothing about it!" she tried to assure him in a wavering voice.
He appeared unconvinced, though she could never begin to fathom what went on behind those eyes. "I see," he drawled in a rather bored voice. "I'm afraid I can't take your word for it."
She knew what was going to happen next, even before she felt the familiar sensation of something pushing and pulling itself into the recesses of her mind. She knew she should try to resist (no matter how futile an attempt it would prove to be), to protect her mind from this invasion. But she would never hide anything from him. She wanted him to know everything.
She could feel his presence in her mind, almost like a pressure on the back of her skull, but somehow different. It had always been a rather queer feeling, something that she couldn't really describe, even to herself. He was there, sifting through her consciousness and gently caressing her thoughts. She shivered and sighed contentedly at the pleasure that filled her.
He was choosing to be gentle with her, that much she recognized. Bellatrix knew that he could destroy her from the inside out if he so wished. She had seen the strongest men crushed to mere shells, their minds damaged beyond repair. If he wanted to hurt her, there would be no stopping him.
As this observation flitted through her head, she felt him smirk. Apparently satisfied with her thoughts, he delved deeper into where her memories were stored. He had never been so far into her mind before, usually contenting himself with what lay directly on the surface. Suddenly, he was pulling memories, seemingly at random, and they flashed before her eyes.
A younger version of herself sat studying him in thinly veiled fascination. He had still been Tom Riddle in those times. He had been beautiful, as had the words and ideals that flowed from his mouth. So charismatic, she had been enthralled almost immediately. But that boy had never shown any interest in her, save as a follower.
She saw her marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange. The union that bound them to one another had never been about love. It had always been more of a duty in Bella's eyes. As a pureblood, it was her responsibility to marry another of equal rank. They had both believed strongly in the Dark Lord's cause, so Rodolphus had seemed like the logical choice. Still, every intimate second that she and Rodolphus shared, she spent imagining him with her Lord's face.
Then, she saw herself cradled in her husband's arms. Her body visibly shook from the sobs that emanated from her and filled the small, dingy room where they hid. Rodolphus was trying his hardest to comfort her, but she had taken the Dark Lord's defeat harder than anyone else had. Rodolphus had assumed that her tears were because they now had no leader, no one to look to for guidance. But, truthfully, those tears were caused by a broken heart. The love of her life had just been killed, and there would be no consoling her.
Next, she saw the countless times that she had searched for him, refusing to accept his death. She had kept a diligent watch for any sign of his reappearance, torturing and killing anyone who might have had even the tiniest ounce of information on his whereabouts. But there had never even been the slightest whisper of his return.
After that, came her years in prison. The days she had spent in that dark, dank cell had seemed unending. Cut off from society, she knew nothing of what was happening outside her cage. Nonetheless, she never lost hope that he would come for her and the others.
Then, there had been a miracle. One day, the Dark Mark had burned on her skin, and she had been one of the first to Apparate to his side. Bellatrix had instantly fallen to her knees and released a cry of joy. She had swallowed her tears though, knowing they would only seem a weakness in his eyes. Later, she had begged his forgiveness for not being able to find him sooner. He had praised her loyalty, and she had melted in his presence.
It seemed he had been placated, and that he was finally finished rifling through her thoughts. She sensed his amusement at what he had found there. As he left, she felt him brush his fingers along the edges of her mind, leaving trails of fire in his wake.
She arched her back and moaned, delighting in the sensations he caused. As her pulse slowly returned to normal, she realized that he had not moved from his position. His fingers still clutched her chin, forcing their gaze to meet.
The ghost of a smirk danced around his lips and a dangerous glint rested in his eyes. "You may go, Bellatrix. I do not think you capable of betraying me."
She nodded her head numbly, her eyes opened wide. She was still breathless, and she just barely managed to rise to her feet without tumbling over. Casting one last glance over her shoulder, Bellatrix locked eyes with him again. However, his face remained as impassive as ever, everything about him unreadable.
Leaving the room, she ambled down one of the several hallways in Malfoy Manor. After reaching the guest room where she had been staying and shutting the door, she stood in the center of the room for several long moments, staring blankly out the many windows that adorned the walls. Then, she sank awkwardly to her knees and buried her face in her hands.
She knew that he was just playing with her, that he could never really love her. But she never gave up hope. And she knew, without a scrap of doubt in her heart, that there would never be anyone else for her. No, it would always just be him.