December 1972.

Mid-December saw the weather turn, and the grounds of the estate were covered in a lush blanket of thick, white snow. Bellatrix sat inside with her forehead against the glass of the window, watching as the flakes gracefully floated down from the sky. She had never been fond of snow, had never joined her sisters in a snowball fight and could not see the appeal of building a snow man; snow covered the ugly things, buried them away. Bellatrix had always believed it better to show your scars. If she had to choose weather that she preferred, Bellatrix would have chosen the rain. She liked to watch it bounce when the raindrops hit the ground; she liked the way the world smelled when the rain had gone. It was clean, fresh – like you could start anew once more. Bellatrix gave a sigh and turned to watch Narcissa rifling through her wardrobe, ordering the house elf which of her gowns she wished to pack.

It was Christmas Eve, and the entire family was going to London to stay with Aunt Walburga at Grimmauld Place. Bellatrix loathed their house; it was small and cramped, every spare space crammed with some object or another. At least at the manor house there was space, the rooms were airy and bright, and the grounds were extensive. Bellatrix also disliked the company of her two younger cousins; Sirius was rebellious, loud and obnoxious, and Regulus asked an endless stream of questions. A lot of the time, Bellatrix found herself wishing that Aunt Walburga would send them both to bed, or that she could swat them around the head herself and teach them to behave. Bellatrix would have preferred to stay at home; Christmas had always been lovely at the manor, with the beautiful big Christmas tree in the conservatory and the comforts that staying at home brought.

They arrived at the house and greeted their family warmly with embraces and well-wishes. Bellatrix even managed to summon a smile for Sirius, who slouched over and handed her a glass of champagne. Aunt Walburga was, as ever, full of gossip about one pureblood family or another, and was eager to share it with Bellatrix's mother as soon as she could. Narcissa was just as keen to hear it, and grabbed her aunt's arm.

"Tell me, aunt, have you heard anything else about the Greengrasses? I heard there was a terrible public row in Diagon Alley just last week."

"Oh that there was, Cissy, that there was! You've never seen anything like it! Delphine was shrieking and hitting Hyperion with her handbag; it was quite the spectacle. You would think that Delphine would be more ladylike, what with coming from a long line of Veela!"

"Indeed!" Bellatrix's mother said, whilst Narcissa looked almost gleeful. Andromeda gave a bored sigh, and took up Regulus' eager offer of a game of chess.

"But," Walburga continued, a smug smirk on her face, "it is we who are to be the subject of gossip amongst the pureblood circles this week! You will never guess who is to dine with us tomorrow."

Bellatrix saw her father suddenly tense, and he turned slightly to look at his sister, who was grinning at her nieces with unbridled delight.

"Who?" He asked firmly. "Walburga, who have you invited?"

"Oh I didn't invite him, Cygnus dear, he invited himself! Lord Voldemort! Can you quite believe it? It is rather something, what with me being a widow and the boys too young to even be considered for his little group. I do think it might have something to do with you being here, but I'm flattered all the same."

"He has been trying to recruit me these past months – you oughtn't to have accepted him, Walburga." Everyone sat in silence as the room grew tense. Walburga ushered Sirius and Regulus from the room, sending them sternly to bed, before turning to face her brother again.

"You know what happens to those who refuse, don't you Cygnus? I have heard all sorts of things, all kinds of threats...your life could be in danger if you continue to refuse."

"Perhaps it won't come to that." Narcissa blurted, looking shiftily at Bellatrix. "Perhaps he'll make an exception..."

"Why won't you join them, Cygnus?" Walburga demanded. "We all agree with him; we want the mudbloods and the muggles put back in their proper places as much as he does, we want the honour of pureblood society restored. In this instance you are simply...putting your name publicly to the cause."

"Can you not comprehend the risks? The first priority in my life, Walburga, is my family, not my politics. The path he will go down is a dangerous one, and one of which I wish to have no part."

"What about a small monetary donation to the cause? Any display of support would be appreciated by them, I am sure."

"And will be dragged up out of the gutter if they fail. I wish to play no public role in this, do you understand?"

"You are a fool then." Walburga hissed. "You will get yourself killed. I only hope that, if the question is put to your daughters, they have more sense."

"My daughters have already been made aware of where our family stands on this matter, and I will tolerate no defiance."

Bellatrix looked up to see both Andromeda and Narcissa staring at her, and she quickly looked away again, in the hope that Aunt Walburga did not notice. If she discovered what Bellatrix had been up to, then her father would discover the truth in no time.

That night, Bellatrix was just about to climb into bed in the guestroom, when there was a quiet knock on the door. She opened it to find Narcissa standing there in her nightgown, and hurriedly ushered her inside before their parents or aunt could hear. Narcissa perched on the end of the bed as Bellatrix climbed beneath the duvet, resting her head against the pillow and letting her black hair fan out, in stark contrast with the white of the pillow.

"Why do you think papa is so against supporting Lord Voldemort? It makes little sense to me." Narcissa whispered.

"I don't know." Bellatrix replied. "But Aunt Walburga was quite of the opposite opinion."

"Yes. At least we know we can rely on her support when...if..." Narcissa bit her lip and fell silent.

"Narcissa..." Bellatrix whispered, wringing the duvet in her hands. "I am afraid of seeing Lord Voldemort tomorrow."

"Why? Do you regret your decision?"

"No...But I am afraid that he may regret his." She explained what had happened when she thought she was going to meet him, and Narcissa narrowed her eyes.

"Bella...is there something else? Something besides all of this...joining him nonsense?"

"Like what?" Bellatrix asked, frowning. Narcissa shook her head slightly.

"It doesn't matter. Get some sleep...it's Christmas in the morning."

Bellatrix could not focus properly on the morning's festivities. Instead, her mind whirred with speculations and questions; her stomach was full of butterflies, her heart thumped loudly. She could not even appreciate the exchange of gifts, for she was too confused as to what would happen that evening. At around five, the whole family sat in the drawing room. Andromeda was led on her stomach in front of the fireplace, her head buried in a new book, whilst Aunt Walburga slowly brushed through Narcissa's long hair with a new ivory comb. Papa and mama were whispering in the corner, and Bellatrix watched as Sirius and Regulus played a rather raucous game of Exploding Snape. Suddenly, the sounds of the doorbell rang out around the house, and everyone in the room stiffened. Andromeda stood and moved to sit in the chair, Aunt Walburga put away the comb, and Cygnus and Druella instantly ended their conversation. Only Bellatrix and the boys remained where they were; Bellatrix's head was bent, so she could not see as their guest was invited into the room. She heard him speak, however.

"Good evening, and a merry Christmas to you all."

"It is a pleasure to have you here as our guest, Lord Voldemort." Aunt Walburga said obsequiously.

"I am pleased to be here. It is always a joy to spend time amongst old acquaintances, is it not?" Bellatrix still did not tear her eyes away from the game, despite the fact that the boys had long since stopped playing. They both stared in awe at the powerful man who had just entered the room. She listened as he moved further into the room. "Cygnus, Druella, a pleasure to see you again. Your daughters, I see, are looking as lovely as ever."

"Thank you." Bellatrix heard Narcissa say, and she could detect a blush in her sister's voice. She listened intently as he moved again, and felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle as his voice was dangerously close to her ear.

"And who do we have here? I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting these gentlemen."

"My name is Sirius, and this is my younger brother Regulus."

"And you are treating your cousin Bellatrix to a game of Exploding snap, I see. How do we think she is finding it?"

Bellatrix realised that she could no longer hide from him, and she turned her head to look up at him. In spite of the fact that everyone was keenly watching her, Bellatrix could not prevent herself from gasping. He looked worse than the last time she had seen him; he looked hollower, more worn, as if something was gradually chipping away at him. And yet, there was something about him that made her heart beat wildly; just standing close to him made her feel drunk, as if the room would never stop spinning.

"I don't like Exploding Snap." She whispered. A wave of embarrassment washed over her as he smirked mockingly, and she wanted nothing more than to run from the room in shame. Why had she said something so terribly juvenile, something that was bound to be of so little consequence to such a man as him? Bellatrix bit her lip to prevent it from wobbling, and looked behind him to see her Aunt Walburga watching them. She had that glimmer in her eye, the glint that told Bellatrix that she could see what else was at work there, and she knew what only Narcissa had guessed at the previous night. Walburga's glee almost threatened to burst out from her when Lord Voldemort reached out his hand and lifted the necklace that Bellatrix wore around her neck. It was an odd decision for, for the first time since he had given it to her, Bellatrix had chosen not to wear the Dark Mark necklace. Instead, she wore a simple pendant that her mother had once given her – a sapphire in the shape of a teardrop. No one spoke, until Bellatrix found a sudden confidence in herself. She stepped back slightly, pulling the necklace from his grip. "Aunt Walburga, is dinner almost ready? I'm famished."

They ate in the small dining room next door, and Bellatrix was relieved to find that she was not sat near Lord Voldemort. Once again, however, he sat near her father, and they talked together for the entire meal. It was not lost on anyone, though, that he turned to look at Bellatrix several times throughout the meal; he seemed to look amused, as if Bellatrix were telling a joke or doing something ridiculous. She felt ridiculous, and it was only made worse by the fact that she was not sure why exactly she should. As dessert was being served Aunt Walburga, who was sat next to Bellatrix, leant over and whispered in her ear.

"I think my dear brother has a little more to worry about than you wanting to join the Death Eaters, doesn't he?"

"I do not know what you're referring to." Bellatrix whispered back.

"Don't play coy with me, child. I am an old woman, I know what a young girl with an infatuation looks like."

"You know nothing." Bellatrix retorted, feeling her cheeks flush red when she realised that he was watching her. She cleared her throat and stood up suddenly, causing the house elf who was serving the desert to jump. "May I be excused, papa?" Her father nodded, and Bellatrix turned on her heel and left the room.

In the hope that no one would discover her there, Bellatrix went to her aunt's bedroom. She realised that it was an invasion of her privacy, but Bellatrix felt no remorse after the embarrassing way she had carried on at the dinner table. The room was ridiculously decorated; it was dark and miserable, and various kinds of stuffed bird were on display on almost every empty surface. Bellatrix flopped onto the chair in front of the dressing table, and looked at her reflection. She knew why Lord Voldemort looked different every time she saw him, for she could see a similar change in her own appearance, only much more subtle. It was the Dark Magic; it was as if it eroded away any purity that you might once have had. Bellatrix sighed and buried her head in her arms, giving a blustery sigh. What was she doing? Was it what Narcissa and her Aunt Walburga both suspected? Was this interest in Lord Voldemort more than an intellectual pursuit, or a means of escape? She knew it was, but she couldn't bring herself to admit it, not even in the privacy of her own mind.

Suddenly, the door behind her opened, and Bellatrix jolted upright. She had expected to see her Aunt Walburga there but, instead, it was Lord Voldemort. He shut the door behind him, and Bellatrix watched him approach in the mirror. He stopped just behind her.

"I hope you do not object to my interruption."

"Not at all." Bellatrix replied quietly. "Was dinner to your satisfaction?"

"Indeed. The meal was a credit to your aunt. I hope, Bellatrix, that you were not too disgruntled when you found only Dolohov at Borgin and Burkes."

"I had hoped to address you directly." She admitted. "But I felt that my meeting with Antonin delivered my message adequately."

"Quite." He replied with a smirk. "He told me in vivid detail what you did; treatment, I do not doubt, he deserved."

"Yes. I hope he knows now that I am not be trifled with – I am not a plaything."

"Most certainly not." They fell silent for a moment. "I am glad, Bellatrix, that you are learning from the books I gave you. I wonder if you are still willing to join me, now that you are more aware of what that entails...now that your father has made it perfectly clear that he will not support me."

Bellatrix turned then to face him, looking up and allowing her eyes to make contact with his. She licked her lips and gave a small sigh, before nodding slowly.

"I want to join." She said forcefully. "I will do anything to serve you."

She was not certain why, even as she said those words. Why did she find herself so attracted to this strange man, so willing to do whatever he bade her? He was powerful and he was dangerous; he represented everything that her parents did not want, and everything that she was desperate to have. She could not resist him; she did not want to even try. She gasped when he reached out and placed an index finger by her eye, before dragging it down her cheek, giving her bottom lip a gentle flick with his thumb as his hand passed. He smirked.

"You will be quite spectacular, quite unlike any other among my Death Eater ranks." His voice was softer than she had heard it before, less threatening and more seductive. But when he spoke again it was gone, and his ordinary tone of voice returned. "You will have to prove yourself before I can make you a Death Eater. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes. I need only know the time and the place."

"I shall write to you to inform you of both." He replied quietly. "And in the meantime, I have more study for you." He reached into the inside pocket of his robe, and Bellatrix was surprised when he produced a scroll tied with a black ribbon. She took it from him.

"What is this?"

"A collection of my own, personal creations. There are very few who have been awarded such an honour...in fact, you are the only one. Learn these, Bellatrix, and one day you shall be as feared and as celebrated as I am."

They returned to the drawing room, Bellatrix a little flushed, but Voldemort appearing as collected as ever. Everyone else had dispersed, but Walburga remained. She stood when they entered, and gently put down her glass of mulled wine.

"We had wondered where you had got to." Walburga said to Bellatrix, before turning to Voldemort. "I hope she has not been bothering you."

"On the contrary. I find Miss Bellatrix's conversation quite intriguing. I must beg my leave of you, Walburga, if you will forgive me."

"Of course, of course, certainly! It has been a pleasure."

"Indeed, and I thank you." He turned to Bellatrix and gave a curt bow. "I shall write soon."

Walburga saw him to the door, before returning moments later with a greedy smile on her face. Bellatrix sat in front of the fire, helping herself to brandy and sipping it with a satisfied sigh.

"Well, well, well..." Aunt Walburga said. "Your father must surely not know about this!"

"Perhaps this conversation might be easier, aunt, if you tell me what you believe is taking place." Bellatrix stated with a sigh.

"Well, you are besotted with the man; no doubt ready to sign on the dotted line and join his gang of devotees, hm? And he is no less delighted with you, make no mistake! Why, he behaves as if he owns you already! You will be the first woman he has recruited, you know, and I wonder if you will soar through the ranks and sit on his right hand side?" For a moment, Bellatrix wanted to maintain composed, but she could not hold it in. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle, placing a hand over her mouth as if to contain her glee. She knew that she was behaving like Narcissa; the same kind of behaviour that she usually mocked or ridiculed.

"Do you really think I could?" Bellatrix asked, in hushed tones as if speaking such ambitions aloud would taint them. "Could I really go so far?"

"Undoubtedly! He may be a Dark Wizard, he may be powerful, but he is still a man. And a man's downfall will always be a woman, Bellatrix, make no mistake." Bellatrix stood and walked over to her aunt, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Will you support me? Will you stand against papa with me when I join them?"

"Of course." Aunt Walburga replied. "Your father is not thinking straight, but he shall soon change his mind. Oh my girl, how high we shall climb, what lofty heights you shall lift the Black family to!"

"Yes." Bellatrix replied, giggling again. "I only hope that we are never dragged back down again."


A/N: I like the idea of Walburga Black being a deliciously morally ambiguous sort of figure - the type who always want to be on the winning side. Also, I drew inspiration from The Other Boleyn Girl in this chapter. I was thinking of Bellatrix as an Anne Boleyn type figure who wants to claw her way to the throne because of the pushy attitude of her family. Let me know what you think!