Author's Note: Here we have yet another fan fiction about Bellatrix and Voldemort. Of course in this story Voldemort's character has to be changed a little or else poor Bellatrix will have her heart broken. Of course I don't want to do that to her, because I'm rather fond of evil characters.
I'm thirteen years old and I reckon I'm a pretty good writer considering my age. This is my first Harry Potter fanfic so enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did I would be J.K. Rowling and if I was J.K. Rowling I would be a much better writer.
Chapter 1: The Dark Lord's gift
Nothing about the Riddle House appealed to Bellatrix one little bit. Fifty years had passed since muggles last inhabited the mansion near Little Hangleton, but still Bellatrix sensed a distasteful presence within it. When she was young she had never imagined herself stooping so low.
Now she had little choice. Her master had been using the house to conceal himself from the wizarding world for many months now. Few accepted the account of Lord Voldemort's rebirth, thus he deemed it to be an adequate hiding place, from which he seldom allowed his followers to leave. To Bellatrix the Dark Lord's word was law.
Although not fond of her new home, Bellatrix delighted in being free from the horrors of Azkaban. The memories of the torment she had gone through to please her master no longer tore at her dark spirit. Instead she stood proudly beside him, letting his strength wash over her and his power flow through her.
One night, she lay down on a bench in the mansion's garden. The night began as usual, with her casting her mind back to the day of her escape. She remembered standing on a deserted street, the dawn after the breakout, facing her master. She had stared into his fierce scarlet eyes, hardly daring to believe she was seeing him again after so many years apart. The stench of decay wafted through the air. The coldness made her shiver, but she did not care. To her the only things that truly existed were herself and her master.
'My Lord, you rescued me,' she said, breathless with joy, 'I must admit I was beginning to doubt you. I had spent so long in prison that I began to loose hope. I beg you to forgive me for my foolishness.'
For several long seconds, Voldemort remained silent, a stern expression engraved on his pale face. Finally he spoke to Bellatrix in a soft voice, 'We both know what it means to have waited for what seemed like eternity, to watch our hopes vanish bit by bit, to be abandoned by the people we placed our trust in. This is something we share.'
Bellatrix's heart leapt, 'But still you stand before me in all your former glory. You were saved from your torment just as I was. How did such a joyous event occur?'
Voldemort recounted the tale of his return and Bellatrix listened with rapt attention.
'So you were willing to brave Azkaban for me,' said Voldemort, after reaching the end of his story, 'such favours are not easily forgotten. Time has changed you Bella; you don't look the way you used to.'
Bellatrix's heart sank. He was right; Azkaban had sucked most of the beauty from her face, leaving it pale and hollow. Though there were no mirrors in her cell, she should've known what such a place would do to her.
'These changes are evidence of your bravery and devotion,' Voldemort continued, 'I value these qualities and will reward you for them.'
Bellatrix's nervousness turned to relief mixed with growing excitement.
'I shall bless you with my abilities,' said Voldemort, 'transmit some of my power to you. Maybe one day, if you maintain your loyalty, you'll be almost as mighty as I am.' At these words Bellatrix's face lit up with joy. She could barely speak but her expression revealed all.
Voldemort held out his wand, as if poised to attack. Bellatrix gasped, as what resembled an electric current, burst from the wand. The spell struck her in the chest, forming a thin black string. A strange tingling sensation spread from the point of contact as the magic travelled through her body, infusing her with its power.
After the shock of the spell had passed, the benefits came through. A sense of adrenaline pumped through her veins, making her feel warm despite the chilly morning air. Her pulse raced as she grew stronger and became convinced that no goal was beyond her reach. Everyone else seemed pitiful in her eyes, apart from the great man standing before her.
The black string disintegrated, but Bellatrix's strength remained and she grew accustomed to the changes. 'Master I am forever grateful,' she stuttered. Voldemort said no more.
'The Dark Lord wishes to speak to you,' Wormtail's words interrupted she memory. She awoke from her trance to find herself trapped in the Riddle House once more.
'Very well then,' she said. She was scornful for having a worthless wretch like Wormtail speak to her as an equal displeased her.
Bellatrix followed him through a number of empty hallways, until she found herself standing at the door to her master's room.
She rarely spoke to him since the day he gave her his power, for she did not want to let the memory be tainted. When she did meet with him it was only to exchange important information, but somehow she couldn't stop herself from knocking on the dusty, wooden door.
'Come in, my Bella,' she heard Voldemort say.
Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Don't forget to read the rest if you can be bothered.
