Hey guys! I got this idea from several challenges, notably just a spark I had then pushed into action by kitty-re's "I never loved you" challenge and elladora lestrange's challenge, "Forbidden love." Slightly AU, slightly inspired by Meatloaf's song "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad," enjoy!

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"But you've been cold to me so long
I'm crying icicles instead of tears"

- Lyrics by Jim Steinman

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Bellatrix watched in awe as Tom Riddle moved so gallantly among his peers. They all looked up to him, but how could they not? He was intelligent, he had unparalleled good looks, he was charming. He was mysterious, he was majestic, he was dark. He had followers, but never any friends. Bellatrix saw this in him, and only saw the cunning of this choice. Friends were a weakness. A downfall. Friends were dangerous.

And yet she could not help the feelings she harbored. The more than friendly feelings. She understood that he could never love her back, and yet that is what she thrived for, and that is also what she loved him for: his inability to love.

When they were with the motley crew he had given the name of the 'Death Eaters', the misfits and the power junkies of Hogwarts, she was always closest by his side. He openly admired her for her abilities, but nothing more. She was merely a rather skillful pawn in his much greater schemes. He could use her and she would merely be thrilled at the prospect that he would choose her to do his bidding.

One particularly sunny summer day out in the grounds, Tom Riddle led Bellatrix back into the dark and cold dungeons. She did not ask why, but merely waited. The common room was completely empty. Not even a Slytherin wanted to sit in the dungeons on a day such as this.

Tom walked over to the fire and stood there, folding his arms behind his back, and stared into the billowing flames. Walking all the way across the room and sitting at the farthest possible chair from the fire, he began.

"You've been a good servant," he said, looking at Bellatrix. "You've been very, very good." Bellatrix smiled with delight. "Anything to make you happy, anything," she crooned.

"I know. You're very good, very good," he repeated, more to himself. "That is why I'm going to trust you with something. Something very, very important. Do you understand the weight of this decision?" he asked, looking deep into her eyes.

"Oh, yes!" she said at once, her cheeks reddening under his watch, "I live to serve you, my lord," she added quickly. Tom got up from his chair and walked away, staring at the stone crevices in the wall.

"Very good," he repeated yet again, now commenting on her loyalty. He seemed deep in thought. "I would not trust you with this if I did not trust you completely, and trust in your abilities, Bellatrix. Know that, and take it as a warning. I shall be very mad if you fail," he said, still not looking at her. "You have a vault at Gringotts, I trust?" he said to the wall.

"Yes, yes of course. A present, once I became of age," she added hastily, "the highest security imaginable."

Without warning, he walked away. Bellatrix did not know whether to follow, so she sat quite still, barely daring to breathe. What could Tom be trusting her with? She did not have long to ponder this, though, for he had returned, holding some polished form in his hands. He clutched onto it with a greedy look in his eyes. Something that made his face less attractive, yet Bellatrix only saw stunning beauty.

"This is, perhaps, one of my most prized possessions," he announced, almost glaring into her eyes. Bellatrix dared not to break this uncommon yet beautiful eye contact, and had not yet been able to differentiate what Tom was holding. Without handing her the form, he began to speak again, more urgently this time. "I need someone who will guard this possession with their life. It is imperative that it stay safe, stay hidden. I want you to put this in your vault at Gringotts personally, as soon as is possible," he said. "Can you do this?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"You will guard your wand with your life from the moment this reaches the vault, do you understand?" he asked again.

"Yes," she breathed, inching closer to him.

He leaned forward. "You will never, ever, take anyone to that vault. Not one of my followers, not your husband shall you ever choose one, not even me. Do you understand?" he asked once more.

"Yes," she mouthed, inching ever closer.

"And finally," he said, trying to express the necessity of this last condition, "You will tell me the very instant you suspect a possible breaking in to that vault. Any time you have an inkling that something from that vault has been stolen, no matter how harsh the repercussions upon yourself may be. Do you, Bellatrix Black, understand?" he said firmly.

"Yes," she said, with a ringing finality. Bellatrix felt a warmth enter their gaze, that was out of place for Tom, a look she had never seen enter his gaze, mingled with relief and some other emotion. Without breaking gaze, he handed over the gleaming object in his hands. Looking down, he looked as if it pained him to part with it. Bellatrix felt the irregularly shaped object slip into her hands. For the first time, she examined it closely. It had rounded edges and a thick stem, it gleamed, even in the darkness, and had brilliant engravings etched in the sides. Where it had no engravings, it had two more thick stems protruding from the body; handles. It was pure gold.

"Badgers?" Bellatrix questioned as she looked at the engravings closer, her face showing controlled awe. "Is this…" she began, then looked back up into Tom's, her eyes brimming with moisture, "Is this Helga Hufflepuff's?" she asked, her voice unsteady, marveling in what she was holding. Without confirmation, Tom merely replied, "Go now. I'm calling a very important meeting later tonight, I'd like you to try and be back in time, but if not I understand. See to it you place this," he indicated the cup, "as hidden as possible, even within the vault. I am telling you, I want you to personally place it in the vault. If you fail, I shall not be forgiving." His eyes were shifty and crazed, his voice anxious yet firm. Bellatrix would not dare disobey.

"Of course, of course," she said quickly, her eyes wide. "Anything, anything…" The curious look reentered Tom's eyes, and for a moment Bellatrix thought she saw something there. She couldn't concentrate on anything but him. Without realizing she was moving, she subconsciously leaned forward. Could she tell him? Would he still treat her the same if he knew how she felt? Although, of course he could tell what she was feeling, could see the thoughts inside of her that never strayed from him. Bellatrix and Tom were both inclined toward one another, and for a moment Bellatrix had the insuppressible urge to lean forward and touch him, to push her lips against his. She couldn't think. Did she have the nerve? It wasn't even about nerve anymore. She was in a trance. She couldn't think reason, she couldn't stop herself. And then…

"Go now," he repeated in a lulling and intoxicating voice, and Bellatrix, still mystified, stood up and walked toward the door, her fingers white from clutching the cup so firmly; Tom's face still ingrained in her brain.

Sooo, comments, concerns? I know it's a little short. Let me know how I'm doing. Comments are love.