"You look exhausted," said Voldemort the next day at breakfast. "Did you not sleep?"
Bellatrix raised her eyes to him and shook her head, ignoring her grapefruit. "I had a nightmare. It was nothing."
Voldemort's stomach twisted. "I don't think nightmares are nothing for you anymore. Tell me."
"No. It's nothing," Bellatrix insisted, but Voldemort licked his lip and said very carefully,
"As your master, Bellatrix, I'd prefer if you told me of your volition."
That was a threat, and she knew it, so she picked up her spoon and poked at her grapefruit, and she said wearily,
"I dreamed that I… I was in your way."
"In my way," Voldemort repeated, shrugging. "What could you possibly mean by that?"
"Your addiction had grown too powerful, and I was a terrible distraction for you," Bellatrix said, sounding awfully tired and looking sad. "So I went to Doncaster, where my Horcrux is hidden, and I destroyed it using Fiendfyre. I must've learnt at some point how to control Fiendfyre, for I don't know how. I think I was a little older in the dream. Anyway. I destroyed the pearl necklace. And then I used the Seeing Dagger of Chandigarh to stab myself in the heart, and I died."
A heavy silence fell over the dining room then, and Voldemort shoved his plate away. He'd been monstrously hungry before for his eggs and toast and sausages. Now he wanted none of it. He felt bile rise in his throat, and he swigged at his glass of milk as he whispered,
"Nonsense. Utter nonsense."
"I know. It was just a nightmare," Bellatrix murmured, and Voldemort snapped at her,
"I would never allow such a fate to befall you."
"I know," Bellatrix nodded, but she looked pale and numb. Voldemort's eyes burned, and he found himself snarling,
"Look at me!"
She did, and one tear tumbled from her right eye. He rose and walked over to her, and he shook his head quickly.
"I would castrate myself before I would let my lust cost you your life. You've told me the vision. And, like the others, I will not let it come to pass. I will do anything - anything - to keep that awful idea from becoming reality. Do you understand me?"
She didn't answer him, so he shouted again,
"Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Master," she whispered at last, and he got down on one knee beside her chair. He seized her face in his hands, and when she looked at him, silent tears were streaming down her cheeks. Well, no wonder. She'd had a vivid dream - a premonition - of her destroying her own soul and stabbing herself in the heart because she was in his way. Voldemort shook his head.
"That will not happen. That will not happen. I swear it to you." He kissed her hard and then pulled her against his chest, and she whispered,
"We have to do something. About the way we want one another. It isn't normal. You know it isn't normal. It could get out of control; it could grow beyond the point of stopping it. We have to stop it now."
Some niggling little part of Voldemort told him that he didn't want to stop wanting her so badly, and then the bigger part of him told her that was how he knew she was right. He nodded, and she stared up at him and said,
"I have to go away for a while."
"What are you talking about?" he whispered, shaking his head. "You can't leave. I won't let you. I won't allow it."
She sighed and pulled back as she said, "You know all the specialised witches and wizards on the Continent. Don't you? Isn't there someone you can think of? Someone I could visit in cognito?"
Of course Voldemort had a wizard in mind, a Healer in Copenhagen specialising in Sexual Magic. He'd never visited the man, but everyone in the Dark Arts in Europe had heard of Aksel Lauridsen. But could Voldemort just send Bellatrix off to Denmark on her own? She wouldn't be recognised there, at least in Muggle society, but she'd have to thoroughly disguise herself just to be safe. She'd know that, of course; she was no idiot. He gulped and thought of her vision, of her killing herself because his want of her had grown beyond their control.
He couldn't send her alone. He would not. She was too young, too weak for this. She was a good witch, a strong and powerful witch, but she was not powerful enough for him to send her gallivanting across the Continent unaccompanied when she was the wife of the most polarising wizard in Britain. She would have to stay here, and he would go. He chomped his lip and told her,
"I'm going straight to Denmark. If you desperately wish to come with me, I'll bring you."
There was frigid rain in Copenhagen. It was the coldest rain Voldemort had ever felt, and he wondered how exactly it wasn't frozen.
The city was quaint and seemed like it would have been pleasant enough if it hadn't been so damned cold and rainy, but as it was, he and Bellatrix hustled from their Portkey landing point to their waterfront hotel, the Admiral.
"Have you ever actually been to Copenhagen?" Bellatrix shouted over the rain, and Voldemort admitted,
"No. Only heard about it."
"Do you speak Danish?" Bellatrix asked, and he gave her a look.
"I can't speak every language, can I? I hope they speak some English. I know how to say hello."
They did speak English in the hotel, as it turned out. They were also incredibly receptive to a few carefully administered Confundus Charms and some counterfeit Muggle money. Soon enough, Bellatrix and Voldemort were warming themselves in a cosy hotel room with brick walls and crisp white linens, and Bellatrix asked,
"Do you know to find this Mr Lauridsen?"
"Dr Lauridsen," Voldemort corrected her. "If things are still the way they were when I heard talk of him fifteen years ago, then he practises medicine as a Muggle. Not to my taste; I dislike the Dark Arts practitioners who utilise Muggle ignorance for their livelihood. Still, what I hear is that his magical skills with sexual medicine are unmatched. It's why the Muggles flock to him. They don't realise he's not just giving them tablets and surgeries."
"How do we find his office?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort pointed to a thick book on the writing desk. He walked over to it and held it up.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked, and Bellatrix shook her head. He smirked. Of course she didn't know. He flicked through it and said, "This is a telephone directory. It lists names and businesses in a city. Then you can ring them on the telephone. So I'll look for his practise in here, and then we can ring them and ask for an address."
"But I don't know to use a telephone properly," Bellatrix complained. Voldemort rolled his eyes and informed her,
"I grew up with the creatures, remember? Just let me do it."
Now he was very glad he hadn't sent her alone. She would never make it, hiding amongst Muggles on her own. She was magical to the core of her being, to the marrow of her bones. He quite liked that about her, except when they needed to blend in. Voldemort sat at the writing desk and flipped through the pages that appeared to list businesses until he reached Medicinsk as a category. Then he scanned with his finger through the list of doctors' names until he froze, his finger hovering over Aksel Lauridsen. He picked up the black bakelite telephone and dialed the number, a task he was unused to doing even from his days living amongst Muggles. Operators had done this job back in the day; dialing numbers was a new phenomenon even for him. But he managed it, and the dull ringing on the other end of the line told him it had worked.
"Læge Lauridsen's kontor."
"Hello; do you speak English, please?" Voldemort said, his heart picking up a bit, and the woman on the other end of the line said warmly,
"Yes, of course. How may I help you?"
"I'd like an appointment with Dr Lauridsen as soon as possible. I've come from England to see him," said Voldemort. There was a long pause, and then the woman on the other end of the line asked,
"England? You know, I visited a fun pub there once. I wonder if you know it. It is called The White Wyvern. You probably haven't heard of it; there must a million pubs in England."
She was speaking carefully, but Voldemort smiled.
"Yes. I know it well. In Knockturn Alley."
"You'll be requiring magical services, then," said the witch, and Voldemort flicked his eyes to where Bellatrix sat on the edge of the bed, awed by what was transpiring. Voldemort said over the telephone,
"Yes, I will."
"He can see tomorrow at three in the afternoon. May I have a name, please?"
Voldemort hesitated for just a second too long, and the witch said quickly,
"I will simply write down Patient 167, if that suits you."
"That's fine. Thank you," Voldemort said. The witch informed him,
"You can Apparate straight into our waiting room at three o'clock, if you wish. Simply Deliberate on the office of Dr Aksel Lauridsen. Or, if you want to walk, we are Number 19 in Toldbodgade."
That was just down the road from the hotel, which almost amused Voldemort, but he just said again,
"Thank you. Until tomorrow, then."
"Payment in English Galleons is accepted," the witch said, and Voldemort smiled a bit as he hung up the telephone. Bellatrix shook her head in wonder and asked,
"They operate some sort of hybrid business? For both magical and Muggle types?"
"Seems so. She asked a coded question about the White Wyvern," Voldemort said. He dragged his teeth over his lip and stood. He walked over toward Bellatrix, and she told him,
"I don't want all this business to distract us from the task of killing Dumbledore. That's very important."
"Keeping you alive is also very important. Lots of important things going on," Voldemort said. "We'll go tomorrow at three. I'm sure he'll have answers."
"I'm sorry that I don't have a better answer for you," said Dr Lauridsen, a tall, thin blond wizard in Muggle medical attire. Voldemort felt rage go through him. He and Bellatrix sat side-by-side in chairs in the examining room, both of them having endured individual physical exams that Voldemort would describe as invasive at best and violative at worst. He let out a shaking breath now and said almost desperately to Aksel Lauridsen,
"I took the Vow of Loyalty because… I made mistakes."
"Many people do. Mistakes get made," Lauridsen said, "but the Vow of Loyalty is dangerous. It is not a bandage for a relationship wounded by adultery. I would always recommend… counseling?"
"Counseling." Voldemort scoffed and shook his head. "You don't understand; I had important things to attend to. Important -"
"I understand, Lord Voldemort," said Aksel Lauridsen, and Voldemort froze. Lauridsen sighed and shrugged, glancing between Bellatrix and Voldemort. "You think I don't know who you are? Don't worry; I took an Unbreakable Vow of my own, one never to reveal the identities of my patients. Still, your name doesn't change your medical reality."
Voldemort felt his chest crumple a little, though now at least he felt he could be a bit more upfront. He said to Lauridsen,
"There have times… during meetings with others, where I have not felt entirely in control of myself."
"For that, I recommend learning the art of magical meditation," said Aksel Lauridsen. "Muggles use mantras, repeated phrases, to empty the mind. But we have spells to accomplish the same goal much more effectively and quickly. Are you familiar with clearing your mind of an insistent sensation?"
Voldemort shifted in his seat. Bellatrix glanced up to him, and he admitted, "No."
That wasn't something he'd learnt during his years on the Continent. He'd been a bit busy with Necromancy. Lauridsen said patiently,
"If you feel the lust rushing over you, you can nonverbally repeat the following incantation. Vanus, Inanis. Vanus, Inanis. Vanus, Inanis. You repeat those words in your mind until the lust fades. It may take a few moments. It may not go away entirely; it may only weaken. But at the very least, you will be functional. This will not control your life. But I must scold you, sir. These vows should absolutely not have been taken, especially not mutually. They are so strong, and so rare, and everyone is unique. It is setting a dragon loose on a village. You can not begin to guess the effects, much less easily control it."
"Vanus, Inanis. Vanus, Inanis," Voldemort recited. "Vanus, Inanis."
"An empty void," Bellatrix said, for that was what the spells' incantations signified. Voldemort nodded and whispered,
"An empty void."
"What if… what if I want to want him?" Bellatrix asked, and he realised that she was afraid this cure would snuff out their mutual desire entirely. Aksel Lauridsen looked at her like she was mad, and he said,
"I don't suppose that's going to be a problem, Mrs…"
"It's just Bellatrix." She seemed a little defeated, and Voldemort didn't blame her. They'd come all the way to Denmark, and the only answer they'd received was to chant nonverbal spells in times of lusty crisis to try and calm it down. They were just as likely to have found that solution in some dusty spellbook among Marsham House's countless bookshelves. Voldemort sighed, realising it wasn't Lauridsen's fault that he didn't have a good answer for this problem. And he also realised that the man had claimed to have taken a vow about his patients' identities, but that people could claim just about anything. So he pulled out his wand and swiftly twisted it at Aksel Lauridsen, incanting,
"Obliviate."
He was careful, twining out only the memory of this meeting. Then he cast a memory replacement charm in which this meeting had been to discuss impotence, and wherein entirely different identities had been confirmed. He lowered his wand, tucked it away, and glanced at Bellatrix, who seemed nervous. Lauridsen gave them a happy little smile and asked,
"Have you any questions about brewing the Potens Potion, Mr and Mrs Gareth?"
"No. No questions," said Bellatrix confidently. "You've been so helpful. Thank you."
"Have a fine trip back to England. Hopefully the weather is better there," said Lauridsen, and Voldemort just curled his lips up as he stood, took Bellatrix's hand, and strode out of Lauridsen's office without looking back.
Author's Note: Uh-oh. Their best lead was a dead end. Sort of. Maybe the meditation will help a little bit? But that vision Bellatrix had of herself is no good. Maybe some focus on killing Dumbledore will steady everyone a little bit. Ha. Oh, but first… someone's turning forty-three… :}
*Insert obligatory plea for reviews here*