"I don't understand why Mr Malfoy is having such an extravagant birthday party," complained Andromeda as she yanked on her white satin gloves. She'd opted for a green tulle dress for tonight's party at Malfoy Manor.
"Forty is a milestone, darling," said Druella, putting an earring into her ear.
"Forty? But surely he's turning forty-two like you and Daddy?" asked Narcissa, who came walking into the parlour in her pretty silvery lace dress. "I thought he played Quidditch with Daddy."
"He did, dear, but he was two years younger," said Druella. Bellatrix walked into the parlour in her own gown, an elegant black silk column with elbow-length black gloves. She'd pulled her hair back into a low chignon and wore a jeweled and feathered comb stuck into her tamed curls. She listened as Druella explained,
"In school, Tom Riddle was in charge of this group of… friends. Your father was the same age as Tom Riddle, and so were a few others, like Mr Avery and Mr Lestrange. Others were a year younger - Mr Mulciber, Mr Nott, Mr Crabbe. And then a few, like Mr Goyle and Mr Malfoy, were two years younger. So Mr Malfoy is turning forty."
Druella turned around in a slow circle to survey her three daughters - the way Narcissa had done up her blonde waves, the way Andromeda had styled her hair in a knot of braids. She nodded appraisingly and clasped her hands together.
"I want my daughters to look like good options for the Pureblood boys at this party," she said, and Andromeda scoffed, rolled her eyes, and touched at her forehead.
"We are not meat for sale at market, Mother."
"No, no, you are not, but someday you'll all marry, and now is the time to be looking like good prospects. You all look lovely. Let's go, shall we? Cygnus! We are downright late! How is it that the witches are all ready and the wizard lags behind?"
The Malfoy ballroom was set up with a small orchestra for dancing, a large enchanted fountain of alcoholic punch and another of Champagne, a table with trays of vegetables and fruits and another table with hot foods like stuffed mushrooms and miniature mince pies. A massive dessert spread was out, too. Bellatrix decided to skip all the regular food and go straight for the delicious-looking puff pastries. She put three on a plate and then stood back, biting into one and moaning softly at the delicious taste of the cream inside.
"Good evening, Miss Black."
She whirled around so quickly that she dropped her plate of pastries, but he Vanished the plate before it could hit the floor. Bellatrix raised her eyes to see him standing before her in tuxedo robes. Him. Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort. She dug her teeth into her GlamourMore's Stay All Day Lipstick - bright red - and she murmured,
"Hullo, Mr Riddle. I suppose I forgot you'd be here."
"Oh. Yes. Mr Malfoy is a very good friend of mine." Mr Riddle sipped deeply from a tumbler of firewhisky he was holding, and he asked Bellatrix,
"How's the modeling been going? I've only had wizards and two elderly witches to photograph over the past two weeks."
"Oh. I just had one job, a hand modeling… thing…" Bellatrix giggled a little. "I just had to open this Charmed music box over and over for an hour whilst they took photographs of me doing it. Got a nice manicure out of it all. It was for the Daily Prophet."
"Ah." Mr Riddle finished off his drink, which refilled itself, and Bellatrix asked him curiously,
"Does it really burn all that badly? Firewhisky?"
He held out his tumbler to her. "Why don't you find out?"
She looked around and felt her eyes go wide. "Underaged drinking?"
He laughed darkly and took it back, and he said in a taunting sort of voice, "And here I had heard you were a terrible rule-breaker at Hogwarts."
"I am." Bellatrix smirked. She reached for the tumbler, taking it from his hand and sipping, and she quickly shoved it back. It did burn, like actual fire going down her throat and into her chest, and she coughed and spluttered a little. Mr Riddle laughed and laughed, seemingly very amused.
"Yes," he guffawed merrily, "it burns that badly."
But his mirth quickly evaporated, almost as though someone had cast a spell over him to dissolve it into thin air. He sipped at his firewhisky and said blandly,
"That tall, skinny boy over there is simply dying for me to stop talking with you so he can ask you to dance."
"Who?" Bellatrix turned her face and saw Rodolphus Lestrange, a Slytherin boy in her year, standing with his hands folded in front of him near the stuffed mushrooms. He seemed anxious, shifting on his feet and pursing his thin lips. Bellatrix sighed. "Dolph. He's had a crush on me since third year."
"Well, I shall make my exit and allow him to make his grand entrance. Good evening, Miss Black. I hope to work with you again soon." Mr Riddle bowed his head and walked away briskly, leaving Bellatrix standing alone. Rodolphus shuffled up quickly, and he cleared his throat as he said in a cracking voice to Bellatrix,
"You look so lovely tonight, Bella."
"Thank you, Dolph," Bellatrix said, forcing a small smile back.
"Would you please dance with you?" Rodolphus asked. Then he caught his mistake and stammered, "With… with me! Me. Would you please dance with me?"
Bellatrix laughed a little and nodded. "Of course, Dolph."
She walked with him to the dance floor and adopted an awkward dancing stance, holding his hand and shoulder loosely and feeling his hand a little too low on her back. She shifted until he edged it upward, and then they began to waltz. Or, at least, they tried to waltz. Rodolphus was absolutely hopeless with the three-step. They didn't talk at all during the dance, because he seemed so preoccupied with counting steps and beats. Finally Bellatrix asked,
"How's your summer going?"
Rodolphus stumbled a little but answered, "Oh, it's just been endless Quidditch playing. Rabastan and I have a pitch on our grounds at home in Essex, you know? One-two-three… sorry, I'm a really rotten dancer."
"You're fine," Bellatrix lied.
"I saw you in This Week's Wizard," Rodolphus informed Bellatrix, grinning even though his feet faltered. "Blowing bubbles. It was a really great ad. You looked really great; I didn't realise you'd been modeling, and - oh, sorry! Sorry! Sorry!"
"It's fine. Everything is fine." Bellatrix hissed through her teeth in pain. Rodolphus had trod straight upon her foot, and her ears were ringing from it. Fortunately, the song was ending, and Rodolphus scowled.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, and Bellatrix just whispered,
"It's fine."
"Pardon me cutting in," said a voice, and Bellatrix looked up to see Tom Riddle sidling up, "but I wonder if Miss Black has another dance in her before taking a break."
"Of course." Bellatrix grinned at the idea of dancing with him, and then she saw that Rodolphus was bowing to Mr Riddle and murmuring quietly,
"Hope your evening is splendid, sir."
"Thank you, Mr Lestrange." Mr Riddle took Rodolphus' place, but he was so much more smooth and confident as he grasped Bellatrix's hand and held it higher, as he planted his hand gently upon her back. They began to dance to a two-step, and he tipped his head and asked her,
"How's your foot?"
"It's fine," Bellatrix lied. "Thank you."
He pulled her a little closer, and he said quietly, "That boy's crush is profound."
"You know because you're a Legilimens." Bellatrix raised her face, realising now how closely she was standing to Mr Riddle. She wanted to be closer. She moved nearer to him. She edged closer than ever and gulped. "Are you in my mind right now?"
"I should stop dancing with you." Mr Riddle shut his eyes for a moment, but the hand on her back pulled again, and this time when she was pulled nearer, her chest touched his dress robes. She was so, so close. So close to him. She could smell wet earth and ocean air on him. She tipped her head forward a little and felt her forehead brush against the button on his shirt. Suddenly everything faded away. The entire room was gone. Everything except the music and him were gone. He was holding her hand tightly now. His fingers cinched on her back.
"I should stop dancing with you," he said again, and he pulled back. "I'm drunk."
"Are you?" Bellatrix parted her lips and tried to catch her breath. She whispered desperately, "You don't seem so very drunk."
"I'm entirely too tipsy to be dancing with you," Mr Riddle replied. But he didn't stop dancing. He pulled her close again and stared down into her eyes, and he blinked slowly as he mumbled,
"I've got an ad for Stay All Day Lipstick coming up. I'd like to use you for it."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes a little and shook her head. "You need someone with pretty lips for a lipstick ad, Mr Riddle."
"Mmm-hmm." He gulped, his throat bobbing. "I'd like to use you for the ad. I'll have your agent contact you about it."
Bellatrix let her mouth fall open, and she shook her head.
"I've never…" She didn't know what she wanted to say. I've never felt my stomach flutter like this from a wizard. I've never wanted to smell a man before. I've never wanted a kiss so badly in all my life.
"I need to stop dancing with you now," Mr Riddle said, and he pulled back again, bowing his head for a long moment as he murmured, "I'm going out to the corridor for some air; it's stuffy in here. Thank you for the dance."
The song ended then anyway, so Bellatrix just nodded as he hurried off. She was dizzy, so she made her way to the non-alcoholic drinks table and got herself some Gillywater.
"What on Earth was that?"
Bellatrix whirled around to see Andromeda, Narcissa, and a few Slytherin girls from school standing in a pack before her. Bellatrix felt like a cornered rat.
"What was what?" she countered. Andromeda put her hands on her narrow hips and made her eyes into suspicious slits.
"You were dancing with him like the two of you were about to start snogging right then and there! What on Earth was that?"
"Was it… did it look odd?" Bellatrix asked seriously, and all the other girls nodded gravely. Bellatrix shrugged.
"I've gotten to know him through my modeling work. We were just dancing."
"Just dancing," scoffed Verbena Greengrass, who had marched out on a shoot with Mr Riddle before. "He looked like he wanted to kiss you, and you looked like you wanted to rip his trousers off."
"Don't be vile," Narcissa hissed, and Bellatrix puffed out a breath as she realised how hot it seemed inside the ballroom. She needed a moment to herself, she thought. She shook her head wildly and told the girls,
"It was nothing. You were all just imagining things that weren't there. It was a simple dance. Now, if you'll kindly excuse me."
She pushed by them all, clutching her Gillywater. She swigged it and put the empty glass down on a tray of a passing House-Elf, and then she made her way out into the corridor. Then realisation came over her. She'd forgotten that he'd escaped out here for fresh air himself, and when she came barreling out into hallway, she saw him leaning up against a wallpapered surface free of portraits or paintings, and she stammered,
"I… I'm sorry. I'll go back in. I didn't mean to -"
"Come here." Mr Riddle's voice was very firm, and Bellatrix sighed as she thought that he seemed angry with her. She pinched her lips and walked over toward where he was standing, leaning against the wall, and she asked him,
"Have I said something wrong?"
"No." He reached out for her, holding her jaw, and he brushed his thumb under her eye. That made her shiver and flush warm and wet, and she was suddenly bereft of breath. She shut her eyes and heard Mr Riddle say,
"You want me to kiss you. You want it very badly."
Bellatrix said nothing. She just stood there, his hand cupping her face, his thumb brushing under her eye, and she finally whispered,
"I'm going to be a soldier for you someday, Lord Voldemort."
"Stop talking like that," he murmured frantically, and she opened her eyes.
"Why?"
"Because," he breathed, lowering his mouth to hers, "if you talk like that, I'll do things that I… can't… things I can't take back."
Bellatrix stared straight into his dark eyes, reached up to hold the front of his dress robes, and whispered again,
"Someday, I will be a soldier for you and serve you."
"Bellatrix." He bent the rest of the way then, and his lips brushed against hers. She moaned quietly, opening her mouth. His tongue crept inside and dragged over the roof of her mouth, then twined with hers, and Bellatrix grasped more firmly at his dress robes. This felt good. This felt so, so good.
"Bellatrix!"
She yanked her mouth from his and whirled around, gasping when she saw Andromeda standing in the doorway to the corridor. Before she could call out, before Mr Riddle could Obliviate her, before anyone could do anything, Andromeda had spun on the ball of her foot and rushed back into the ballroom.
Author's Note: Gahhhhh! Tension, then relief, and then caught! How will Cygnus and Druella feel about this? Who else will Andromeda tell? Will Bellatrix get to make her Stay All Day lipstick ad with Voldemort? Sorry about the cliffhanger; I rarely do that to my readers! Thanks for reading and a MASSIVE, ENORMOUS, HUMONGOUS thank you for reviews. I realize this one doesn't have a ton of readership, so any feedback is extra appreciated.