A/N: You guise! I can't even begin to thank you for all of your support! You're the best! I get to clarify things now, and I'm quite excited.

Red Bess Rackham-
Yes! That is exactly what I was going for with the whole "Bellatrix gets to stay" thing. It is a bit OOC and that's how I wanted it. I'm really glad that you caught it, because well, you'll see soon! Also, I think of Nagini as someone who can get away with a lot from Voldemort, solely because she is part of his soul. If he were to harm her, he'd be indirectly harming himself. And because she is basically part of him, I think she knows him better than he thinks she does. Thanks a lot for your opinions and reviews! :D

Disclaimer: I was going to write a song about how I don't own Harry Potter, but I figured you wouldn't really want to hear it.


Bellatrix awoke the next morning, grasping for the warmth of her partner. She rested her head on what appeared to be his chest, but upon further inspection, she realised that it was too downy, too cold. Puzzled, she opened her eyes, only to find that she was the only person occupying the bed, and that she was lying on no more than a mere pillow. She huffed; it figured that the one time she was permitted to stay with him, he would leave without warning. Did she really believe that he would have a change of heart and welcome her with open arms? If she did, she was foolish.

The lack of his presence hit her like a ton of bricks; he was the Dark Lord and he would never love. She should have known, she really should have... but her feelings for the man always clouded her judgement, and she was always left feeling more empty and more confused than ever. At least he had left her in his room. Sighing, Bellatrix moved to grab her dressing robe and to wonder downstairs.

After the meeting the previous day, it seemed as though Lucius and Voldemort were on amiable terms (that, or Lucius was just too frightened to stand up to him), and the Dark Lord had not gone back to Riddle Manor.

"It's too dangerous to be there," he had told her the previous night, "The remaining aurors have probably already swarmed the place. Malfoy Manor is safe, for everyone involved."

He was right. Although he was the Dark Lord, there were still many aurors who thought they stood a chance against his forces, and while the protective charms around the manor were virtually impenetrable, his father's home was simply not safe.

Still, Bellatrix wondered if he was there now, plotting the next attack or finding a way to Harry Potter. She scoffed; the boy was so foolish! He really thought that he had a chance against her master, against the hundreds of troops he had rallied, against the Elder Wand! Soon, he would learn and soon, he would perish.

"Morning, Aunt Bella."

The sound of Draco's voice brought Bellatrix back to the present.

"Good morning, Draco," she replied nonchalantly, "I hear you go back to Hogwarts today, am I correct?"

"Mhm," Draco nodded, running a hand through his blonde hair, "At 11."

There was something off about her nephew's voice. It was as if he was on his guard all of the time, thinking any moment the Dark Lord may appear and kill him. Bellatrix couldn't blame him. After their family's indiscretion, she wouldn't be surprised if Voldemort did end up killing half of them. They'd deserve it though, she thought to herself.

"Draco!" Narcissa called from the end of the hallway, "Breakfast is- oh."

"Nice to see you, too." Bellatrix stated, crossing her arms.

Lately, it seemed as though Narcissa was either cross with her or pitied her; there was no in-between.

"Well, Bella? Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in and eat?"

Yes, Narcissa was definitely cross today. Bellatrix never understood why; it wasn't as if she had done anything intentional to cause her sister bitterness. Rolling her eyes, she followed her nephew into the dining room, where breakfast was currently placed on the table.

"Good morning, Bellatrix," Lucius said, peeking over the Daily Prophet.

Bellatrix nodded curtly. "Let me see that when you're finished," she ordered, pulling out her chair and taking a seat across from him.

"I'm finished with this section," he responded, annoyed with his sister-in-law's lack of manners. Lucius passed over the classifieds and Bellatrix eagerly snatched it up.

"No important deaths, I see," she mused, scanning the obituaries, "Though I figure we'd know if we'd killed someone." She cackled to herself, amused.

"God, you are a whack job," Lucius mumbled under his breath.

"What, Lucius? I'm afraid you'll have to speak a bit louder," Bellatrix bit back, gulping down her glass of pumpkin juice, "I can't hear you over the-"

Her eyes widened and she spat her drink across the table. "What?" she screamed, "Cissy, come here! Look at this!"

Narcissa crossed the room to where her husband now sat, covered in orange liquid.

"Dammit, Bellatrix!" He cursed.

"Shut up, Lucius."

"But you-"

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

Narcissa looked at her sister in bewilderment, but before she could reprimand her for her tone, Bellatrix thrust the newsprint into her face.

"Read the births."

"Bella, I don't see why-"

"Just read them! This one!" She pointed to a small article in the top right-hand corner.

"Fine, alright!" Narcissa huffed, "Remus and Nymphadora Lupin- nee Tonks- are proud to announce the...birth...of...their...son...?"

"The blood traitor!" Bellatrix yelled, her eyes wild with anger, "First Andromeda marries that mudblood and now her daughter shacks up with some filthy half-breed! They're a disgrace! And now they've brought even more half-blood spawn into the world!"

Narcissa paled at the sight of her sister's rage. Of course she was angry at Andromeda for marrying a muggleborn, but Bellatrix looked as though she were going to kill the first person to get caught in her line of fire.

"I've lost my appetite," Bellatrix declared, ripping the classifieds from the table and tossing them into the fireplace.

"Bellatrix! What if I wanted to read those again?" Lucius whined, but he immediately clamped his mouth shut when she turned to glare at him.

"They're in the fire, where they belong," she responded. And with that, she stormed out of the dining room.

"I'm glad I'm going back to school," Draco announced from the corner where he'd been sitting quietly.

"You're welcome to take her with you," Lucius replied, blotting at the orange stains on his pyjamas, "She's a menace."

"She's my sister!" Narcissa interrupted.

"That doesn't make her any less annoying, love," Lucius retorted.

She knew her husband was right, but she needed to keep an eye on Bellatrix. She couldn't just throw her out onto the street, especially with the war going on. And Narcissa had no idea what the Dark Lord would do if she kicked her out. She knew that he held Bellatrix higher than the rest of his followers- Probably because she sleeps with him, she thought to herself- and he'd be absolutely livid if anything were to happen to her.

Narcissa didn't know what her sister saw in the man, besides his power, and she was baffled by the fact that Bella would continue to chase him, even though she knew he'd never love her. Of course she had tried to talk sense into her, but Bellatrix would shut down and scream at her until she was sure her lungs were raw. She was basically his slave, a meager whore... Narcissa couldn't bare to see her sister throw her life away, but there was virtually nothing she could do to stop it, and she would have to watch as her sister fell.


Bellatrix was infuriated. Her head was pounding, her lungs were hurting and she was almost certain that she'd kill the next person who crossed her path. She didn't exactly know where she was, save the fact that it was some muggle village near Whiltshire, and she figured that she could wreak all of the havoc she wanted and no one would know the difference. That would make her feel better.

She roamed the damp streets, the smell of piss and mold filling her nostrils. A few scantily-clad women walked the pavement, trying to pick up anyone that would give them a second glance. It probably wasn't wise for her to be by herself in such a dodgy place, but she'd just hex anyone who gave her trouble. As if on cue, a man called out to her.

"Hey, pretty lady!" She ignored him and kept walking. "Hey!" he persisted, "I'm talking to you!"

Before she could stop herself, she spun around and shouted the first curse to come to her mind.

"Crucio!" she screamed.

The man fell in a contorted mess a few feet away from her, writhing in a mixture of shock and pain. She smiled cruelly to herself; yes, she felt much better now.

"That wasn't very nice, Bella." whispered someone in her ear.

Bellatrix jumped and turned around to see none other than the Dark Lord standing beside her.

"F-following me now, a-are you?" she sputtered, her eyes bulging. Why exactly was he here?

"Perhaps," he responded casually. He pointed to the man, still writhing on the cobblestoned alley. "We'll have to wipe his memory, you know. Or you could just off him."

Bellatrix's eyes glinted. "May I, Master?"

"I would not have offered if I did not want you to kill him."

She cackled and turned to the muggle lying before her. She was ready to play.

"Diffendo," she spoke, her words almost carressing the air.

The man's skin was spliced open over and over and she watched as the dark red liquid poured from his wounds. He screamed. She laughed. Voldemort was aroused.

"Shut up!" Bellatrix commanded, but the man would not cease his cries. "You're no fun to play with," she pouted, and with one final flash of green light, she ended his life.

"Good girl," Voldemort's velvet voice praised her, "Throw him over there, I'm sure someone will find him eventually."

Bellatrix obeyed and propelled the body of the muggle into the nearby garbage heap.

"Now, Bella," he said as she turned around once more, "I am going to pay someone a little visit tonight. I want you to accompany me."

Bellatrix's face lit up, "Who, may I ask?"

"Timothy Shackleford," he answered, "He works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement...Yaxley commented that he may be conspiring against us. We'll have to remedy this."

"I would be honoured, Master."

"Good," Voldemort responded, "I will meet you in the foyer after dinner. Do not be late."

And with that, he disapparated.

Bellatrix was elated; she no longer felt the anger she had earlier nor was she concerned with her traitorous sister's grandchild. She was chosen. She was his right-hand woman.


"Why are you in such a hurry, Bella?" Narcissa asked as her sister sprinted from the dinner table.

"I've just got business to attend to, Cissy," Bellatrix replied, stopping to fix her hair in the nearby mirror.

"Just...be careful," Narcissa sighed.

"I'll be fine."

Bellatrix didn't see why her sister always found the need to fuss over everything. Besides, it wasn't as though this Shackleford fellow was going to stand a chance against her, much less the Dark Lord. She crossed the hall and made her way to the foyer, where she hoped he would be waiting.

"I see you're actually on time for once, Bella," he smirked, "I must say, I am impressed."

Bellatrix fought the urge to roll her eyes for fear of what he may do, so a curt nod sufficed.

"Shall we?"

She grabbed onto his arm and he quickly apparated them to their destination.

The sun had almost set for the evening, but the few rays that were still visible illuminated the small village in which they had just arrived.

"Where exactly are we, my Lord?" Bellatrix inquired, brushing some dirt off of her skirts.

"Cornwall," he replied.

He motioned for her to follow him towards a small, modest home to their right. The shingles had begun to loosen and the paint was peeling from the woodwork, leading Bellatrix to believe that it was either a hideout or that Shackleford wasn't paid nearly as much money as he should in his position.

"He lives here, Bella," Voldemort replied, annoyed, "What have I told you about closing your mind? Why do you continue to disobey my orders?"

"I am sorry, Master I-"

"Save it for later, Bellatrix. Right now, we've got business to attend to."

Voldemort burst through the door with great force, and the man lying on the couch woke with a jolt.

"Y-y-you?" he squeaked.

"Y-y-you?" Bellatrix mimicked.

"Bella," Voldemort warned, pointing his wand at Shackleford, "Good evening, Timothy. I trust you know why we are here."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Shackleford said, reaching for his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Bellatrix shrieked, and the wand flew from his fingers.

"There have been reports," Voldemort continued, "of a...conspiracy in the Ministry. Rumour has it that you are behind it. Is this correct?"

"No!" Shackleford yelled, cowering into the cushions, "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"You lie, Timothy, you lie."

And before Shackleford could do anything to stop it, Voldemort was probing his mind... talking to the werewolf and his auror wife... plotting against the Ministry with Kingsley... arguing with Pius Thicknesse...

"I think I've seen enough," Voldmort snarled, "He's all yours, Bella."

The Dark Lord didn't have to tell her twice.

"Crucio!" she shouted over and over again, "Crucio! What's the matter, Timmy? Can't handle a little torture?"

Shackleford had fallen off of the couch and split his head on the corner of the coffee table. Blood spurted from his mouth as Bellatrix continued to curse him.

"P-please," he sputtered.

"Did you really think your death would be quick, Shackleford?" Voldemort laughed, "I think a little more punishment is in order, Bella."

Bellatrix smirked and nodded. Suddenly, Shackleford screamed and his entrails were pulled from his body.

"The Entrail-expelling curse?" Voldemort asked, surprised, "My, my you are in a good mood today."

"I think I've had enough fun with him for one day," Bellatrix decided, twisting her wand and causing Shackleford's intestines to spin in the air.

"Very well, then. I'll finish him off," he pointed his wand at the half-dead man, "Avada Kedavra!"

Shackleford's eyes bulged and his mouth flew open, and then he was dead.

"I'm sure they'll find him in the morning," Voldemort sneered, "Come Bella, let us leave."

They apparated at once to the bedroom, where Voldemort immediately began to devour his lover once more.

He would never admit it to anyone, but seeing Bellatrix on the hunt aroused him like nothing else. She had no mercy and she would kill anyone who got in her way- that is, except him. He savoured the power that he held over her; she would do absolutely anything for him and he used this to his advantage. He was almost certain that she'd kill her own sister if it meant that he was pleased with her. He was her undoing and she enjoyed teetering on the brink of insanity just to be in his presence.

"Master," she moaned from underneath him.

"Bella," he responded, growling into the base of her neck.

And just like that, she was unraveled. She was in a euphoria, she was complete.

He was simply satisfied.

Rolling out from underneath him, Bellatrix attempted to catch her breath. Her chest heaved, her eyelids drooped.

"You have pleased me tonight, Bella," Voldemort said. She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued, "You may leave now."

Bellatrix's stomach dropped. "W-what?" she asked meekly, hoping she had misheard him.

"Did I stutter, Bella? I said you may go!"

Caught between crying and beating something to a pulp, she rose from the bed and threw on her robe.

"Goodnight," she murmured, hoping, wishing that he would have a change of heart, her eyes pleading him to hold her.

But Voldemort simply nodded his head in response and closed his eyes.

Bellatrix exited his suite and sprinted towards her own as fast as her legs would carry her. Narcissa was right: He couldn't love her, he never would.


A/N: I'm not very nice to Bella, am I?