Author's Note: Happy new year to you all! In order to celebrate the arrival of a new year, here is a brand new chapter. Many thanks, as ever, for all of the reviews. And now, onto the chapter itself, in which there is a wedding and shocking request. Please let me know what you think!


January 1974.

It did not take long for the elation that Bellatrix had felt that night to fade and be replaced with disappointment. It was as if she carried it around with her, a heavy weight that pressed on her shoulders and lingered in both her mind and her heart. Life at Grimmauld Place was no less dull than it had been at home at the manor – in some respects, it was worse. Her aunt Walburga would leave her alone for barely a minute, before finding someone they had to visit, or something she had to do; she was always prying too, trying to wheedle out secrets and get gossip fodder for her and her friends. As Bellatrix sat in stiff-backed chairs, in drawing rooms or parlours that were almost identical to all of those she had seen before, listening to the idle prattle of her aunt and her cronies, she found it increasingly more difficult to believe that the events of Lord Voldemort's visit had been true. Had he really kissed her so fervently? Had she truly bitten him in such a way, and faced no punishment for it? It seemed too incredible, too unlikely. Perhaps she had dreamt it all.

In the first few weeks following that night, Bellatrix had hoped that what had passed between her and Voldemort would be verified the next time she saw him. During some long afternoons, she would allow herself to lie back on the sofa and close her eyes, to think what might happen when he saw her. Would he acknowledge her in front of everyone? Or perhaps they would be alone, perhaps he would send her a letter inviting her to headquarters, and there he would...she wasn't entirely sure what she hoped he would do. The very memory of his body against hers, the thrill that seemed to soar through her as she sunk her teeth into his lips...it was almost as if someone else had done it, as if someone had taken over her body and made her do those things.

Her hopes for some kind of assurance, however, were swiftly killed when she saw Lord Voldemort again. One afternoon, she was led lazily on the sofa, watching as her aunt arranged flowers in a tall vase, when the suddenly felt a stabbing pain in her left arm. The sensation of it made her wince, and she gripped her arm with a quiet hiss.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Walburga asked with a small frown.

"My arm...it hurts." Bellatrix pushed back her sleeve and saw that the Dark Mark seemed to be more vivid than normal. After a moment had passed, she felt another stab of pain. "I think...I think it means something."

"Did he tell you anything about it?"

"No..." Bellatrix winced again. "What should I do?"

"Why don't you press your wand against it, dear? Maybe that will do something?"

Bellatrix did just that, and gasped as she was instantly forced to disapparate. She appeared, moments later on a softly-carpeted floor, and looked around with a small frown. Others arrived around her just as she had, falling out of nowhere onto the ground, before standing and hurrying away. Bellatrix turned and, upon inspecting the room further, found that there was a large table nearby surrounded by chairs. She copied the actions of the others and sat down, the whispers and jeers of the others increasing as the minutes passed. She was the only female there. She gave a short sigh and placed the palms of her hands flat on the table, before turning to look at the chair that sat at the head. Suddenly, silence fell over the room and the door opened. Bellatrix and the rest of the men in the room watched as the Dark Lord slowly entered, taking a seat before slowly bowing his head. She dared not move as he flicked is eyes around the table, clearly taking a register of sorts, and her heart thudded as she waited until he came to her. The moment passed and, as he had done with every other Death Eater, his eyes simply skipped over her as if she were insignificant.

Bellatrix seethed for the rest of the meeting, but she still held some hope that he would speak to her when it was over. That too was not to be the case, for as soon as he had declared the meeting over, he swept from the room with the small group of men who had sat at the head of the table with him. This ritual happened at least twice a month and, every time, Bellatrix hoped that the outcome would be different. But after each meeting she returned to Grimmauld Place with bruised pride and a bewilderment that threatened to overwhelm her. He did not visit again, nor did he write. It was as if he had had his fill of her, as if she had fallen into obscurity amongst his other ardent followers. Perhaps, as Bellatrix sat alone in the gloomy rooms of her aunt's house, he was out seducing another witch, another woman who would follow him just as she had done, because she could not resist the hold that he had over her.

Before Bellatrix had even realised how much time had passed, Christmas arrived and was swiftly over. She celebrated at Grimmauld Place, with a short visit from Narcissa on Boxing Day. She was accompanied by Lucius, who looked somewhat sneeringly at the humble surroundings of their home. Bellatrix asked her aunt for a moment of privacy, and she left the room to enable her to be alone with her sister. Narcissa took hold of her hand, and also held Lucius', before joining them together.

"I want very much for the two of you to be friends. You shall be working together soon enough." Narcissa said, smiling.

"You are a Death Eater?" Lucius drawled, incredulous.

"Indeed." Bellatrix replied, raising an eyebrow. "I believe you are to join, once you and Cissy are married."

"That is something I must discuss with you." Narcissa said, giving a small sigh and turning to look at Lucius. "We are to marry sooner than planned, next month in fact. The Dark Lord demanded it."

"I am not surprised. He mentioned at our most recent meeting that it is becoming more and more important that we increase our numbers. Apparently, Dumbledore is creating an army against us."

"That is true." Lucius said, nodding. "I have been liaising with seventh years on the Dark Lord's command, and when I went to meet them last month in Hogsmeade, I found myself under the surveillance of the old man. The Dark Lord is furious."

"You have been given an assignment by the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix demanded, feeling envy swell in her uncontrollably. "But you are not even a Death Eater yet."

"Jealous, are we?" Lucius drawled, smirking smugly. "I cannot imagine what sort of task the Dark Lord would be able to assign to a witch who sits around drinking tea and thinking about flowers all day."

Before anyone had any time to understand what was happening, Bellatrix had leapt to her feet, and the tip of her dagger was pressed against Lucius' throat. He was chortling quietly; his eyes glinting with enjoyment, but Narcissa looked horrified and swatted her hand away.

"Lucius, Bellatrix, please, I want you to get along." She snapped.

"I apologise, Narcissa, but I just had to see why the Dark Lord recruited her. I've heard talk of her temper from the others and wanted to witness it for myself. I understand now...I shall not bate her again."

Bellatrix returned to her seat, slipping the dagger back in its position. She folded her arms and turned to Narcissa, who was still scowling at Lucius in irritation.

"I want you to be my bridesmaid next month." Narcissa said, reaching out and holding Bellatrix's hand. "But...papa and mama will be there, of course. I have asked Andromeda to be my bridesmaid too. I just...please accept, Bella."

"I shall agree to bury any dispute I have with our family for your wedding, Cissy." Bellatrix replied. "Tell me...will the Dark Lord attend?"

"Yes." Lucius' chest puffed with pride, before he added, "And I am to take the Dark Mark that same night."

"Mama and papa...they still do not know." Narcissa said, biting her lip.

"They shall be furious when they discover it." Bellatrix stated. "But you shall always have my support, Cissy, and that of Aunt Walburga. Despite what he says, it is papa who has chosen wrongly. He shall have to face the consequences of it soon, I can feel it."

On the day of the wedding, Bellatrix returned to the manor for the first time in months. She was surprised to find that, stepping into the entrance hall, she felt no kind of remorse, no kind of regret. There was just a hollow feeling in her stomach. Narcissa was in her bedroom, along with Andromeda and their mother, who was fussing over the bride as she combed her hair in the mirror. They all froze when Bellatrix entered, but Narcissa breezed over and gave her older sister a warm embrace.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come, Bella." She said quietly. "Your dress is over there, you can put it on if you like."

The dresses that Narcissa had chosen for the bridesmaids were short, made of light grey silk; Bellatrix was surprised by how modern they were. She put the dress on and looked at her reflection, before reaching into the bag she had brought with her and taking out her jewellery – she put on the necklace that the Dark Lord had given her, as well as the emerald earrings that she had borrowed from her aunt Walburga. The only problem that Bellatrix had with the dress she was wearing was the fact that the sleeves were short, revealing the Dark Mark upon her arm.

"Is there any way you can cover that thing up?" Her mother snapped, appearing behind her. Bellatrix gave a short sigh, turning to face her.

"No. But why will it matter? The Dark Lord will be there for everyone to see, and I doubt that any of the guests invited will have strong objections to it."

"Your father and I – "

"...Stopped having control over me when you threw me out. Now do excuse me, I have to help Narcissa prepare for the wedding."

The wedding ceremony was held in the conservatory which, despite the snow that led on the ground outside, had been enchanted to make it seem as if it were the middle of summer. Bellatrix could not deny that her parents had done a beautiful job of decorating the room; there were lavenders and bluebells everywhere, and delicate Large Blues gracefully fluttered around the room. Bellatrix walked down the aisle behind Narcissa, the speed so painfully slow that she longed to dash ahead of her. As she passed the guests, it was almost as if there was a wave of whispers and muttering, as people pointed at the Mark on Bellatrix's arm. Her father, who was giving Narcissa away, turned to look at her with a disgusted scowl, but Bellatrix simply ignored him, turning her head slightly to look at the guests. That was when she saw him, the Dark Lord. He sat at the front row of the groom's side, evidently in the position of guest of honour. His eyes met Bellatrix's and he smirked at her, bowing his head slightly as she blushed. She sat down when they reached the front and, although she tried desperately to concentrate on the ceremony between Lucius and her sister, all she could think of was him.

That evening saw the manor play host to a ball, to which hundreds more people had been invited. The guest list included everyone from ministry officials to former school friends of the newlyweds, and Bellatrix had an overwhelming desire to escape them all. She stood at the side of the ballroom, clutching a glass of champagne in her hand, and mindlessly nodding through a conversation with old Horace Slughorn, who seemed to be delighted by anything and everything he saw. Bellatrix watched as Lucius spun his bride across the floor, Narcissa laughing freely as he did, before pressing her lips against his cheek. She could not help but feel a stir of envy, a fact that very much took Bellatrix by surprise. She knew that it was not the marriage that she envied, but the easy way with which they showed one another affection. Somehow, Bellatrix knew even then that she would never experience that for herself. She knew that she was doomed to evenings such as the one she had spent with the Dark Lord or, worse still, to clinging on to the memory of that night with no hope of ever repeating it.

"Excuse me." Bellatrix said suddenly, turning away from Slughorn and walking determinedly towards the door. She stopped abruptly, however, when she suddenly collided with the chest of another person. The irritation with which she looked up melted when she saw who she had collided with. It was Him. Despite the familiar smirk upon his face, Bellatrix noted that his appearance had further deteriorated; he looked more sallow, more worn. As if he was on the brink of death. "I apologise, my Lord." Bellatrix blurted, turning away from him.

"It is I who should apologise, for I blocked your path. I had to prevent you from leaving, however, for I wish to request the next dance."

Bellatrix watched dumbly as he fell into a deep bow and extended his hand towards her. She took it, surprised by how delicately he held it as she remembered the sensation of his fingers digging into the skin of her wrist. He led her gracefully to the centre of the floor, before placing a hand upon her waist. They danced a slow waltz, and every turn sent Bellatrix's head reeling, the swell of the orchestra only seeming to grow louder and louder. She could hear people whispering too, no doubt speculating on Voldemort's motives, on what Bellatrix was trying to do. Suddenly, he spun her so quickly that Bellatrix thought she might fly, before pulling her tightly against him. She looked up at him then, laughing with abandon, for she realised suddenly that she could only gain from this. The Dark Lord, the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world, the man whom many of those gathered in the room were bound to serve, had made a clear demonstration of his preference for Bellatrix. Who could rally against her then? Who would dare deny her, at the risk of inciting the wrath of the Dark Lord? She laughed again, closing her eyes and feeling a surge of joy. She felt a tickle of breath against her neck, and then the Dark Lord spoke.

"There is a task that I will soon ask you to perform, Bellatrix. It is very important, I trust only you to do it. Do you think you are able?" Bellatrix smiled wickedly, opening her eyes and catching the gaze of her father.

"I would do anything for you, my Lord." She whispered. "Anything you could ever ask."

When the party was over, the guests gone, Bellatrix knew that it would soon be time for the secret part of the celebrations to begin, the part to which barely anyone was invited. Narcissa and Lucius had gone upstairs, pretending that they were going to bed as the rest of the house had done. Bellatrix stayed downstairs and, grabbing a full bottle of champagne from the table, went out into the grounds. The snow crunched underfoot as she stumbled towards the small, wooded area, swigging directly from the bottle as she went. She waved her wand and cleared a log of snow, before sitting on it and waiting. She did not have to wait long for, moments later, she saw a small group heading towards her. The Dark Lord was leading, his robes billowing menacingly as he approached; Narcissa was clutching onto Lucius' arm, her face pale with worry. Bellatrix watched as Lucius gently pushed his new wife away, and held out her hands as her younger sister came to sit on the log beside her. The silence that fell over the clearing was heavy, oppressive, as if it would fall down at any moment and crush them all. The Dark Lord stood opposite Lucius, a solemn expression on his face, and the ceremony began.

"Lucius, you have already proven yourself to be a loyal servant to me. You have shown your powers numerous times, and I have high hopes for your future amongst the ranks of my Death Eaters. The time has come for you to join us officially. Extend your arm." Lucius rolled back the sleeves of his formal wedding robes, revealing the pale expanse of his left forearm. The Dark Lord took his wand and pressed it against Lucius' flesh. Bellatrix gave an audible gasp as Lucius was flung backwards, yelling and howling, his arms and legs flailing wildly as he came crashing to the ground. Narcissa made to leap forwards as he thrashed on the ground but Bellatrix, instinctively, reached out and held her back. Bellatrix could not remove her eyes from the sight of Lucius writhing so helplessly on the ground. Had she done the same? Had she looked so agonised, so tortured? The very idea of it made her feel sick, and she felt the bile rise in her throat.

After what felt like forever, Lucius grew still. The Dark Lord waved his hand, and Bellatrix finally relinquished her grip on her younger sister. Narcissa fell to her knees and gripped Lucius, holding him tightly against her as tears streamed down her cheeks. A few moments passed, before Lucius gave a quiet cough and his eyes fluttered open. Narcissa slowly helped him to his feet, her eyes wide and her face pale as she turned to face Lord Voldemort.

"May I...may I take him back to the house, my Lord? He must rest...I wish to care for him."

"Of course you may, Narcissa. I would not wish to deprive a bride of the joy of her wedding night."

As the newlyweds slowly hobbled back towards the house, Lucius putting all of his weight on Narcissa for support, barely able to stand, Bellatrix realised that she could not see much joy in them at all. What should have been a night of celebration had turned into one of pain and fear. She gave a shaky sigh of disappointment and dismay, until remembering with a jolt that she was not alone. The Dark Lord remained. She turned to face him slowly, and found that his eyes were fixed firmly upon her, his expression quizzical and searching.

"What is it that occupies your mind, Bellatrix? What is it that causes you to sigh so? Are you displeased that your brother-in-law has joined our ranks?"

"Not at all, my Lord. The recruitment of new members brings me nothing but joy." Bellatrix licked her lips. "I was simply wondering if...if I suffered as much as Lucius did. I remember little of it."

"No, you did not. A fact which, I must confess, is most interesting to me. Every other man who has joined my ranks, who has taken my Mark, has reacted in the same manner. You did not." He stepped forwards slowly, tilting his head inquisitively to one side.

"Why do you think that is, my Lord?" Bellatrix whispered.

"I believe it is because you still have something that many desire, Bellatrix." He narrowed his eyes, and Bellatrix felt a stirring of fear. "A faint, flimsy wisp of innocence."

"And that innocence, my Lord...?" She asked, barely knowing why.

"I want you to be rid of it." He spat disgustedly, causing her to recoil in surprise. "There is no room for innocence in my world, Bellatrix."

"What would you have me do, my Lord?" Bellatrix whispered, barely able to breathe. "You mentioned earlier a task...what would you have me do?"

He looked at her bluntly, his eyes unmoving, his mouth formed into a straight line. His face was by no means beautiful, but Bellatrix felt as if she could stare into it forever. When he spoke, it was the sound of his voice rather than the words he spoke that struck her to her very core.

"I want you, Bellatrix, to kill your father."