"You've got a bad sickness," said Narcissa finally, after examining him thoroughly.
"Can it be healed?" asked Voldemort critically.
Narcissa shook her head.
"What is it?"
"Burning Anger," said Narcissa. "It's inflicted when one is hit directly with the Explosive Fire curse. The disease is fatal."
"Is there anything I can do about it?"
"There is one thing…" said Narcissa. "Burning Anger is very self-explanatory. When you are feeling rage or jealousy, it will burn you from the inside."
"It's nearly impossible for me to avoid rage, Narcissa," Voldemort admitted sadly. "I'll most likely be dead soon."
"No matter what, I'll be with you, my Lord," said Bellatrix lovingly.
"I'm glad, Bellatrix." Voldemort smiled weakly. Bellatrix nodded, and her eyes started to become unfocused as her mind trailed off into other thoughts. Then he screamed, and clutched his chest. Bellatrix pulled his robes down, alarmed. There was a new burn appearing on his chest, right where his heart was. As soon as his eyes met hers, the burning stopped, and he gasped for air.
"My Lord, I am so sorry! I think I just almost killed you!" she said, panicked.
"No…it wasn't you," he lied. He had seen into her thoughts just then. She was thinking about Rodolphus, her husband, and he suddenly became jealous, but he didn't know why.