Written for the Speed of Lightning Competition with the prompt "all that glitters is not gold" so have some Rodolphus angst.


The woman in front of him was gorgeous; silky midnight hair spiralled down her back, she possessed pristine and flawless skin, her face was angular, all of her features were symmetric and marked her aristocracy and she wore a tight ivory dress that highlighted all of her impeccable curves. He had known her for nearly fifteen years, but his mouth was still somehow dry at the display before him.

Rodolphus could not pinpoint the exact moment when he had decided, though he knew he had been waiting for this day for a very long time.

Bellatrix was going to be his wife.

It was difficult to control himself. In the dark suit robes that were pressed flat, Rodolphus kept his body firm and unyielding while trying to mask his joy as his upbringing dictated.

The only thing he failed at was the way his lips twitched slightly upwards.

He was not sure how else he could contain himself. He had never felt so strongly about another. He did not grow attached to others. He treated them with respect only if they were worthy and only if he was treated in a satisfactory way by them.

Bellatrix did not. Their relationship had been a constant series of ups and downs since they had kissed when they were only fourteen. It had not been constant and they had broken up more times than Rodolphus could count, but somehow she had always returned and he had always taken her back.

He loved her. It was the simple crux of the matter. It was an emotion other had described, yet he had not really understood until his feelings for Bellatrix had expanded over the years.

He knew his heart swelled around her. He knew whenever she was around he wanted to smile like a fool. He knew that whenever she was absent it felt like there was a huge black gash removed from him.

So he should be happy. He was marrying this beautiful, pureblood woman who he loved above all others. Perhaps she was sometimes inappropriate and sometimes they butted heads, but that was not the problem.

There was something else.

"Do you Rodolphus Septimus Lestrange take Bellatrix Cassioepia Black to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The unnervingly cheerful dulcet tones of the celebrant questioned, as he smiled in the eerie way like he had all day.

There was the slightest flicker of doubt that somehow forced its way into his mind, but he quickly pushed it away. "I do," Rodolphus answered, clearly and precisely as his eyes remained rooted on Bella's figure. Somehow his uncontrolled lips had a life of their own and stretched further upwards.

Without haste the celebrant turned to Bellatrix.

She was not smiling. Her face was like how he wished his was; stony and not revealing any hint of her current feelings. She only stood tall and expressionless as her eyes focused on a spot on his shoulder and she allowed her dainty and manicured hand to rest in his much larger ones.

"Do you Bellatrix Cassiopeia Black take Rodolphus Septimus Lestrange to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Bellatrix's answer was not as swift. There was only the smallest fraction of a second break before his answer, though her pause was long and seemingly endless. His throat was tight as he felt Bellatrix's hand flinch in his own and her eyes flicked from his shoulder to dart through the crowd as if she was looking for someone she could not find. Her eyes were desperate and oddly panicky, but, when she returned her gaze to stare at him at him, her eyes were cold once again.

Rodolphus felt his heart pound violently against his rib cage. He was never someone to doubt his own superiority or to sell himself short, yet he almost believed she would refuse.

Thankfully, he was wrong.

"I do," Bella replied strongly and firmly as if her pause had not existed.

"Please bring forth the rings," the celebrant declared.

Rodolphus was focused on Bella who was now looking at him as if frozen. He did not care he had received his answer. It was fine. She would be his wife. The woman he loved was about to be his wife. They would be together forever and have children to carry on their great names.

However, the looming problem existed and that briefest fraction of a second pause in Bella's answer proved it. The extent of his affections outstripped how Bellatrix felt about him. He would be at the mercy of his turbulent emotions and affections, but she would be unaffected and free from influence.

Rodolphus watched as matching golden rings were brought out one by Rabastan one by Narcissa. They were nestled tightly in black velvet; the pure gold shining brightly in the light a reflection of the joy and happiness that this day should bring.

It glittered so wonderful, but was it really gold?

Numbly, Rodolphus did as was required and slid the band from the box. It was slightly warm brought about by the heat in his brother's robe pocket or by the magic coursing within the metal. The beauty and perfection of the ring was overwhelming. He could not have opposed its power even if he wanted to. Carefully and gently, he slid the finger onto Bella's finger where it nestled perfectly against her pale skin as if it was destined to reside there. She did the same; placing the ring on his finger, but her movement was rushed as if she just wanted to get it done as quickly as possible.

Entwining his now banded finger through hers, he watched as the two golden rings nestled against each other in their clasped hands.

"Then I declare you bonded for life," the celebrant said even more cheerfully than before as he watched the newly married couple in satisfaction at his successful job well done. "You may kiss the bride."

Rodolphus did not wait, but leaned forward and kissed Bellatrix softly and with all of the passion and tenderness that he could never express in words. Her response was more muted, yet, as golden stars burst forth around them, he did not recognise anything amiss.

He was sure that the glittering rings were gold and happiness was now upon them.


In the darkness and chill of Azkaban as the floating dementor gracefully glided by his cell, Rodolphus Lestrange buried his mattered filthy hair and crusted tear infested face into his once mascular arms.

The dementors were wise. They knew that the happiest day of his life was the image he should constantly be forced to relieve as it was the greatest taunt and the greatest way to shove a knife into his heart. In this way, he could remember how much he loved his wife and how he had uncharacteristically hoped they would be happy together. He would remember his doubts, but he would also remember how he had pushed them away when he should have ceased them.

Crunching his eyes tightly together, he tried to stop thinking about how soft and inviting Bella's lips had felt and how his hands had settled so perfectly into the curve of her waist. He wished he would forget the strong intoxicating scent of her perfume and the moans that had escaped her perfect lips as they had made love that night.

He could not.

In fact the moans he remembered were now used as a contrast to how his wife now sounded from a distant cell to his right.

"Master!" He heard Bella's voice scream passionately and hoarse after screaming and crying for so many years. "My Lord! Master! My Lord!"

Over and over again she yelled. Every minute, every hour, every day, every year he heard her desperate cries for another man.

She had never said his name.

It was why the dementors did what they did. They reminded him of what a fool he had been and how his previous hopes had rotted.

In the limited light fluttering in from the window high above, he could see the faintest shape outlined on his left hand. Covered in dirt and grit, it no longer felt warm and it no longer gleamed bright, but it was there.

It had not rotted away.

It should have.

It could not have been the everlasting gold meant to symbolise all of the things that night should have meant.

It should not have been any of those things as the rings no longer glittered.

Even still the gold ring still lived on.