Bellatrix Black- Lestrange was one of the only members of the Noble and Ancient House of Black that still believed in the ideas her family had upheld for generations. Along with her sister Narcissa she had married a Death Eater from an old pureblood family, bringing both wealth and honor to the Blacks. Her new husband, Rodulphus Lestrange, was very well acquainted with Lucius Malfoy, her dear sister Narcissa's husband. Being the wives of prominent Death Eaters it was only a matter of time before they were taken before the Dark Lord Voldemort and made to take his mark, becoming inescapably his for eternity. When the two sisters were finally taken before Him, one was shown the face of the dark side, her new Master, and found that she had no reason to be loyal to Him, necessity had forced her there and would always be the reason she followed. For Bellatrix, her new Master was quite willingly followed, mostly for the power he wielded. Shortly after her marking the dark Black sister found her heart hopelessly tangled with that of another, someone she would follow to the ends of the earth and back, she would kill for him and die for him. As Rodulphus realized some years later in a cell in Azkaban with his wife, none other than Lord Voldemort had taken her heart from him.
After a long stint in Azkaban Prison Bellatrix Lestrange was back with a vengeance. True to her word and expectations He had come to free them, praising them for their patience and loyalty to the cause, something than made him all the more desirable. While the twelve years in prison had robbed her of most of her happy memories along with her sanity the dementors couldn't feed off of her devotion. After having had more than twelve years alone to think about it she had realized where her heart truly lied. In her years before Hogwarts she had obsessed herself with upholding family honor and ideals, despising those who were weaker or of inferior birth because she was their better. The feeling of power that was given when she lorded her status over someone was incredible, an endless wave of euphoria that she never wanted to stop. That feeling was precisely the reason why she turned to the Dark Arts in her later years of Hogwarts after every mudblood and muggle-lover had been put in their places enough to make it seem almost routine. She had always loved a challenge but even she could admit that that mission was hopeless and so she turned her attention to something a little harder and actually attainable. The Dark Arts were exactly what she had been looking for, a rush of power and a challenge all in one. There was no way that she would become a white sheep in the Black family, her idiotic cousin had taken care of that for her generation by being a Gryffindor, so she threw herself into it with her parents full approval and support. Roughly two years later, in Voldermort's service, she was barely recognizable from the half-crazed devotee she was to the talented witch she had been in her school days.
As she moved her way into the Inner Circle and the crucios increased she found that she liked his eyes on her, the pain that he inflicted because it showed he cared. She had made a vow to herself to never let her loyalty waver and his actions helped keep her heart and soul his as the use of the pain curse intensified. At her trial she stood next to Rodolphus but her heart and mind were on the Dark Lord. When the questions of why arose she tried to prove to them how he was, what had ensnared her, to them but was sentenced to twelve torturous years with out his presence. And every day that passed made her feel a little more broken, small, and hopeless.
"You're a muggleborn." It wasn't a question, not coming from her mouth, and Tom Riddle felt the exceedingly irritating impulse to lie to her. The two of them had been meeting in secret for quite some time, while Tom had Rodolphus out on raids or recon missions, almost being friendly. An outsider would have thought the relationship that way if it weren't possible for the new Tom Riddle to befriend anyone. As the need to lie grew his eyes began to shift around the room looking for a source of inspiration. When none came he started to improvise.
"What makes you say that Bella?" He asked, blood pounding in his ears. Her reply did nothing to improve his state of health.
"Every child in pureblood society is introduced to all of the other families at a very early age. As the heir to Salazar Slytherin I find it very unlikely that your father would miss the opportunity to show off the purest of the purebloods."
"Well your findings aren't quite sound, now are they Bella. Why risk injury to my person because of the petty jealousy of other children?" As soon as the lie left his mouth he regretted it. As hard as he tried to hide it a flash of remorse crossed his face and she blinked, taken aback momentarily by his show of emotions, before curtly nodding her acceptance. Despite his victory over her, he could still tell that she knew the truth but was choosing to allow him to lie.
She bowed her head in acquiescence, cleverly hiding the knowing smile behind the thick curtain of her midnight tresses. "I apologize M'Lord, I had not thought of that possibility."
"It is no matter Bella. I trust you haven't been spilling that horrible rumor to my troops." She shook her head and he continued, grateful for her sense of discretion. "Then all is forgotten." Out of pure curiosity he continued into uncharted territory. "I wish to ask a question of you Bella, under the understanding that you will tell no one of this conversation. What are your feelings for me?" The burning need to know the answer forced his heart to start pounding again even as Voldemort told himself firmly that he was only bored and the answer was of no consequence. Despite knowing such an obvious fact his heart continued to pound in his ears and he licked his lips nervously.
Bellatrix's head snapped up and startled blue eyes looked into his red ones. He could see the turmoil going on in her head as clearly as he could see her standing there but longed for the answer.
"Do you not trust that my loyalty is strong and unshakeable? I would do anything to prove that I remain forever yours." When she spoke her voice had no quaver in it, if anything her tone was even more assured than it had been before but her eyes still betrayed her panic.
"As a servant I don't doubt your loyalties, to do so would be foolish. As a woman however…" he let the words die as he thought of how to continue. "As a woman you have a husband and if you are not loyal to him then some man must have caught that passion. I only wish to know if that man is me."
She took a deep breath and let the words tumble from her mouth heedlessly without fear of punishment. The man that had asked the question was not the same master she served and so she would meet that man with a woman who wasn't a servant. "I could not have chosen better than Rodulphus. Fresh off my N.E.W.T.s as I was, my family could not have hoped for me to find a better match even given more time to look for a husband. However, I have long since realized that the smoldering passion I once held for him has cooled to near non-existance and has sprung up again for someone else. I can't bring myself to deny it any longer. For years I have been in love with one man and one man only: you." Her soul bared she threw herself to the ground at his feet, kissing the hem of his robes and running from the room in a flurry of robes. The man formerly known as Tom Riddle let her go, a small smile on his face.
Ever since Voldemort had learned of Bellatrix Lestrange's true feelings he had found his eyes drawn irresistibly to her during meetings even though the bulky robes and pristine mask hid her figure. It was impossible for him not to know who she was, the Lord Voldemort always knew. He still sent her husband on most of the raids, leaving her there with him while her husband was gone. The meetings had turned from the near friendliness they had once been to something both stiff and formal. Bellatrix was reluctant to be alone with him, for fear of rejection he supposed, and left the room as soon as possible instead of lingering for hours. Everything between them had changed.
Tom had thought that she would get over it eventually, just step out of her shyness like one would a robe, but as the weeks went on her distantness began to bother him more and more.
"What happened to how things used to be Bella?" Another day alone and the question seemed to burst out of him to fill the uncomfortable silence that had fallen upon the pair. She hesitated before answering.
"What happened was you came to me like a man, not like a Dark Lord, and I responded in kind. For a moment I was a woman, not your servant, and that mental view made me blurt out what I shouldn't have. I can't look at you without thinking of that day but there are always reminders. I can feel your gaze on me all the time but can't meet it for fear of my heart betraying me again. I would die for you, jump in front of a curse for you, but you can never love me back." Tears began to fill her eyes and she brushed at them angrily, their betrayal made the words even worse.
"You're right on all counts. I came to you as a man, not wanting you to be my servant but knowing that I couldn't love you. My heart cannot feel love, desire yes, but not love." And I can't love you without loosing everything I worked for, the power you deserve to have.
"You deserve better than that." Her eyes filled even faster than before and her efforts to stem the flow down her face did nothing to help. Somewhere, something deep deep in his heart twinged painfully but he squashed the feeling quickly. The rituals he had done for immortality had taken away the ability to love. He could love at the cost of his ability to live forever while his ability to live forever had come at the price of his ability to love.
"You have failed me one too many times Bella." He stood, towering over her, face filled with rage but voice filled with an unshakeable calm. She was quivering, partly in fear and partly in pain, trying to recover from the repeated Crucios that she had had to endure. If anything she had welcomed the torture because it brought the previously blurry into painful clarity that she was ready to embrace. From out of the chaos that filled her mind a memory came unbidden to her mind. I would die for you, jump in front of a curse for you, but you can never love me. He had proven her right, he couldn't, and she was about to fulfill her end of things. She looked up at him through a curtain of hair, dirty and bloody and silently wished him goodbye. He raised his wand to point her in the face. The last thing she ever saw was his eyes, hard and unflinching, as death rushed towards her in a jet of green light.
Her body slumped forward at his feet, fingers coming to rest on the dragging hem of his robes. Disgusted, at himself or her he wasn't sure; he kicked her off of him and stepped past her still form, now lying face up and her eyes open, before dismissing the rest of his army. As soon as the last one had left he slumped into his throne and stared into her lifeless eyes. He hadn't wanted to do it but she had left him no choice. The look on her face wasn't one of surprise or of horror but one of contentment. Had killing her been the only way she would be happy? Even as he asked himself her voice echoed in his head. "I would die for you, jump in front of a curse for you… I would die…" If he was capable of tears he would have been crying. As it was, Bella's death was something he couldn't just brush aside.
Voldemort was a second away from killing Wormtail as he tripped for the thousandth time in five minutes. The final battle was upon them and Pettigrew had taken it upon himself to be his personal guard rat but insisted on staying so close to him that he couldn't move an inch. To make matters worse he could sense Potter getting closer to him and was starting to consider killing Wormtail himself to get the man out of his way. As he tripped again he caught a glimpse of the unruly back hair coming his way quickly. Cursing under his breath and concentrating on killing the man he was fighting before Potter reached him he didn't see the Killing Curse come at him from past Peter, who ducked aside to let it pass. As Lord Voldemort's soul was ripped from his body he saw his attacker, Potter who had missed a shot at Peter, and realized ruefully that Bella would have both seen that curse and stopped it from reaching him. Ironically, he hadn't loved her because it would be the death of him but not loving her had proved to really bring him his death.