"She is… volatile," Voldemort informed Rodolphus, folding his hands and staring across his desk in his office. Rodolphus nodded, holding a washcloth enchanted to stay chilled up to his cheekbone.

"She punched me, Master. Punched me. All I did was go in there and try and wish her a good morning. I gave her a little kiss on the cheek to wake her, and she punched me."

Voldemort shrugged. "She does not know you. I took her into the Pensieve to your wedding day. You were a stranger to her. If it's any consolation, she'd never even heard of Andromeda. She saw her grandmother speak with her at the wedding and had no idea who Irma Black was. She has treated me with… well, let's just call it a lack of a respect that I chalk up entirely to her memory being gone."

"And there's no chance of actually restoring a genuine sense of memory in her?" Rodolphus lowered the chilled washcloth, revealing a cheekbone that would badly need some Butterfly Weed Balm. Voldemort shook his head.

"Her memory was really and truly wiped. Short of torturing her, which is ill-advised, there is really nothing we can do besides rebuild her or eliminate her. I am willing… theoretically… to do either."

Rodolphus' mouth dropped open, and he whispered, "Mercy, Master. Please."

"I am disinclined to execute her," Voldemort said in a clip, and relief washed over Rodolphus' face. Voldemort remembered what Bellatrix had said about her own self at her wedding. She hadn't loved her husband. Had she loved him by the time she'd been Obliviated? Did Rodolphus love her? Did any of that matter at all? Voldemort let out a long sigh and told Rodolphus,

"I'll work on her today. She's like a dragon in need of training. I'll show her some more memories. A battle where she was brave. Remember that time in Wales where she Stunned three people all on her own? It was just you and me and her there, and you and I were caught up in duels, and she Stunned them all on her own. I'll show her that, see how she takes it."

"Yes, Master. Thank you." Rodolphus touched at his cheekbone, and Voldemort instructed him,

"Get some Butterfly Weed Balm on that. It'll be fine."

He strutted out of his office and through the corridors of Malfoy Manor, knowing that Bellatrix was up in the burgundy suite. He'd ordered her to stay put until they had her memory in some semblance of working order, for it was dangerous for her to be out and about when she didn't know who people were. Thankfully, when he came into the suite, she was staring out the window, wearing a long, black velvet dress, her curls tied into a loose braid, and she asked in a snarl,

"Come to kiss me again, Rodolphus?"

"It's me," Voldemort said, and as she turned round, she warned him,

"I'll punch you, too."

He just sighed and shut the door, moving to sit on the sofa in the little parlour. He concentrated hard on the battle in Wales the winter before. It had been snowing lightly. He could see the whole scene now, and he drew the memory out with his wand and dragged it into the Pensieve. He beckoned for Bellatrix to come near him, and he promised her,

"I'll let you see the entire thing this time. I promise."

She chewed her lip where she stood by the window, until finally she came walking very determinedly over, sat quickly on the chair opposite Voldemort, and took firm hold of the Pensieve. She plunged her face down into the milky, silvery substance, and he was surprised by her enthusiasm. He followed her into the Pensieve, descending with her as they fell with the snowflakes, down over the craggy moor until they landed in the middle of some dead grass and black rock. Bellatrix looked around the frigid scene, though she and Voldemort were warm as shadows in this memory, and she asked,

"Where are we?"

"Wales," he informed her. "It is December of 1970, a few days before Christmas. You and Rodolphus and I received a tip that an Auror was hosting a small get-together at his house here in the countryside, and we decided to investigate. Watch what happens."

"Why didn't we bring more?" Bellatrix asked him, turning her face as snow swirled round her, and Voldemort shrugged.

"I did not think there would be so many of them," he admitted. "I was wrong. This was our first major battle. We were ill-prepared. Well. You weren't."

Bellatrix frowned but watched as she, Rodolphus, and Voldemort circled around the outside of a thatched-roof cottage. Finally, Voldemort set fire to the thatched roof, and after a few moments, the smoke and heat drew out everyone inside, their wands drawn. Spells started flying at once, but the ratio was off. There were five inside the Auror's cottage, and there were only three on Voldemort's side.

"That's Alastor Moody I'm fighting," Voldemort informed Bellatrix. "You see how he dodges Killing Curses by Disapparating? Tricky bugger. He consumed my attentions. Rodolphus is dueling Gideon Prewett. Young, your age, but a fierce fighter."

Bellatrix watched as Voldemort tossed one green-lit spell after another at Moody, who threw Blasting Curses in response. Voldemort tried fire; he was dueling fiercely. Rodolphus was using hexes against Gideon Prewett, who almost hit him with a Knockback Jinx. But then her eyes turned to herself, and she seemed to realise she was taking on three at once.

"That's the same Auror who Obliviated you," Voldemort informed her. "That skinny blonde one. It was her house. Pinky Tarlington. I killed her when she Obliviated you. The two beside her Fabian Prewett, Gideon's brother, and Minerva McGonagall. You might not recognise her, but she was your Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. An ally of my sworn enemy, the school's headmaster, Albus Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore. I know that name," Bellatrix breathed. "I know his face. McGonagall. She… I remember her changing a mouse into a bell. That's Transfiguration."

Voldemort curled his lips up a little and said quietly, "Just watch. Watch what you do."

Moody Disapparated over to Gideon Prewett, who was still battling Rodolphus Lestrange, and he growled in a low Scottish brogue,

"Let's get the bloody hell out of here and warn Dumbledore!"

The two of them disappeared by Side-Along, and Voldemort snarled in frustration. In the memory, he and Rodolphus raised their wands to help Bellatrix, but she stamped her foot and screamed, letting out an enormous burst of magic that sent a huge wind blowing around her as she screamed,

"STUPEFY TRIO!"

There was a fantastic explosion of blue light then, and Bellatrix flicked her wand toward each of her three enemies. Voldemort - the one in the memory - had his face illuminated by the flash of blue, and Rodolphus looked shocked as all Tarlington, Prewett, and McGonagall soared and tumbled backward from the force of Bellatrix's unhinged spell.

"Bella!" Rodolphus called, and Bellatrix looked up with a smirk on her face. Her curls blew around her, and the snow began to pick up. Her cloak billowed and snapped in the wind, and she stalked toward her husband and her master. Voldemort seemed in awe of her, and he blinked a few times as he informed her,

"Well, that was impressive."

She smiled at him, her eyes wide and filled with something Voldemort had not noticed the first time round. She was incredibly happy that he was pleased with her.

"Let's get out of here, Bella; Moody's gone to fetch Dumbledore," Rodolphus was saying. The Voldemort in the memory cleared his throat and nodded. He cast a few incendiary charms at the cottage, setting fire to it, and decided to let it burn whilst their three enemies were Stunned. Let them wake and tell Dumbledore what had happened.

Voldemort gently pulled out of the Pensieve, urging Bellatrix to come with him, and when they sat up in the parlour in Malfoy Manor, she seemed awestruck. She rose from where she sat and walked back over to the window, and for a long moment, she just stared outside. Voldemort sighed and stood, padding over to her and standing beside her.

"You have been, since the earliest days of your servitude, my most fearless warrior," he told her. "I am unwilling to accept that a memory alteration will lose me that warrior."

She turned her face to him, looking awfully pretty all of a sudden in a way that took Voldemort very much off-guard. He gulped, and she noted,

"I fought like that often?"

"Not always so spectacularly, but not every battle can be a show," Voldemort teased. He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. He licked his bottom lip and informed her, "You left quite a bruise on your husband's cheek this morning."

"I was uncomfortable being kissed by a man I do not know," Bellatrix told him, and Voldemort nodded.

"I understand. But he is your husband. Would you like him to operate the Pensieve with you so that you can get to know him again?"

Bellatrix hesitated. "It's not the same, is it? Showing me a memory isn't the same as knowing the memory. It's like you said; it's reviewing it. I'll have to begin again with Rodolphus. Thankfully, it was an arranged marriage, so I'm sure it was awkward from day one. I just wish you'd been honest with me about you and I."

Voldemort was silent for a moment, and then he shrugged and shook his head. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. She gave him a heavy look and said,

"It is very obvious from both memories that you've shown me that something existed between you and I. It's plain to see in both our eyes, at the wedding and the battle, and I was paying very close attention. Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

"There is nothing to tell," Voldemort insisted defensively, tightening his arms. He felt very uncomfortable all of a sudden. He had never, to the best of his knowledge, lusted after Bellatrix Lestrange. He had looked at her with great admiration, perhaps. He had stared at her in wonderment, for she embodied everything he wanted a Death Eater to be. She was pretty, and he'd noticed that a few times. But he had hardly spent the last few years ogling her. She was married, and exceptionally young, and she was his servant. Voldemort scowled at her now and said again, "There is nothing to tell; there has never been anything between us."

"All right." Bellatrix sounded very sceptical, and Voldemort suddenly threw his hands up and lost his temper.

"What, you think that you and I were having some sort of sordid affair leading up to your wedding day? You think I carried you in here after you were Obliviated because I was in love with you? You must think awfully highly of yourself, Madam Lestrange. I danced with my servant on her wedding day to congratulate her. I attended to my servant after a battle accident so I could get my warrior back in fighting strength. I wouldn't have half a notion what you taste like in a kiss, Madam Lestrange, so you can just go ahead and stop giving yourself so much damned credit."

She raised her eyebrows at him, taking a step back from the window, and she noted softly,

"You're awfully upset about this."

"Go to your room," he snapped, and she laughed softly.

"Are you my master, or my father?"

His cheeks went hot, and he started to storm out of the sitting room. Bellatrix called frantically after him,

"Wait!"

He whirled around, prepared to slam her against the wall, but she trotted up to him and said rather contritely,

"I'm sorry. It is very confusing for me right now. I feel like an idiot, like I don't know anything. So I'm lashing out a bit, and I do apologise if you're used to me being more respectful than I'm being now. I can see from the memories that I served you loyally. I'll do so again. I promise."

Voldemort reached for her left arm, sliding back the sleeve of her velvet dress. He dragged his thumb over her Dark Mark, making it burn, and she hissed a little as she nodded. She raised her dark eyes to him and said,

"You'll have your warrior back. And I believe you. I believe you that you haven't got any idea what I taste like in a kiss. I wish Rodolphus could say the same. If you could kindly ask him not to touch me until I'm a bit more comfortable, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course." Voldemort pulled down the sleeve of her dress and lowered her wrist, though he didn't let go. He took a half step closer to her, his heartbeat accelerating a little as Bellatrix gave him a confused, defiant sort of look. He tipped his head and whispered, "You saw the memories for yourself, and you reached your own absurd conclusions. If your master kisses your cheek the way your husband did, will you punch him?"

Bellatrix hesitated, but then she shook her head and let her mouth fall open a bit as she murmured, "No."

Voldemort bent down and cupped her jaw in his hand, brushing his lips gently against her cheekbone. He lingered there for a moment, breathing in the scent of rose, and then he stood again. She was pretty, he thought suddenly. He nodded down at her and affirmed,

"I'll have my warrior back. I'll return later tonight to revisit another memory. Get some rest and some food."

"Maybe I will," Bellatrix nodded, her face stony, and Voldemort smirked as he turned and walked quickly out of the suite.

Author's Note: Huzzah for brief writing respites among the chaos! Please do leave a quick review if you get a moment. I am really psyched for this story. Mwah hahaha.