"Madam Bellatrix, Madam."

Bellatrix looked up from her book and frowned. "What is it, Minky?"

"You have a visitor, Madam." Minky twined her hands together, and Bellatrix sat up straighter, staring at the clock on the wall. Midnight. She scowled.

"Who is it?" she demanded, fearing it was her mother or father. But Minky said,

"It is Lord Voldemort, Madam."

Bellatrix gasped, aiming her wand at her mouth and Scouring herself there and beneath her arms. She felt fresh then, and she told Minky,

"Show him in, Minky."

Bellatrix could hardly breathe as she waited, and when he appeared in her doorway, she sat up a little more and nodded, bowing her head reverently.

"Master."

"I apologise for the very late hour," Voldemort said in a low voice. "I had intended on visiting earlier, and then my meeting with Avery ran long, and I… still wanted to come."

Bellatrix smiled a little at that, and she raised her eyes to him as he sat in the chair beside her bed. He sighed and asked her,

"Were you sleeping? I shouldn't have come."

"No, Master. I… I was reading." She gestured to her copy of Yarrai the Innocent and then informed him, "Healer Savery came for a check-up this morning. I had to tell him… I had to tell him what you did. I'm sorry."

"Oh. I suppose Vanishing an organ is pertinent medical information," Voldemort shrugged. "Was he quite cross?"

Bellatrix snorted a little laugh and shook her head. "I think he knows much better than to be cross with you, My Lord. But, as it turns out, you performed rather significant magical surgery on me."

"Ah. Well, apologies for being so haphazard about it," Voldemort said, and Bellatrix insisted,

"Healer Savery says it was expertly done. He cleaned up a bit of the tissue surrounding the uterus… I don't know. He did a procedure. But he says I have to stay in bed and move as little as possible for five days. I do apologise if there's a meeting. He says that too much movement could muck up all my other organs and cause strains and whatnot."

"Oh." Voldemort looked guilt-stricken, and he murmured, "It wasn't my intention to render you bedridden again."

"But you have freed me," Bellatrix said, "and I fought you tooth and nail on the idea of it. So it is best that you came here just a little drunk and Vanished an organ, My Lord."

He smirked and shook his head a bit. Bellatrix stared out the window at the darkness and said more seriously,

"Rodolphus says now I can be his wife again. My concerns are gone now, he says."

"Oh, is that what he says?" Voldemort asked with a bite in his tone. Bellatrix just nodded. Voldemort huffed a sigh and changed the subject.

"My meeting with Avery was regarding the fact that he accidentally killed a Mudblood."

Bellatrix grinned suddenly, amused. "Accidentally, Master?"

"Yes." He gave her a little smile and said, "He took your advice about tripping a Mudblood down a flight of stairs. Only problem was, he chose a witch who was ninety-three."

"Oh, no." Bellatrix began to giggle, and Voldemort couldn't seem to help laughing as he said sarcastically,

"Bless and rest Louvinia Warren. She tripped down the stairs in the Leaky Cauldron and broke her neck. It looked to bystanders like someone pushed her, and someone - someone - was heard shouting the words, Farewell, Mudblood! as a crowd gathered round her body. But seeing as how Avery was Transfigured…"

"Oh, brilliant!" Bellatrix smiled broadly at Voldemort and said sincerely, "That's bloody brilliant, Master."

"Yes. I rewarded Avery with five thousand Galleons and sent owls to the others letting them know what happened. I thought I'd tell you in person."

Bellatrix reached instinctively for his hand then, and she was shocked at herself for doing so. She was even more shocked when he rubbed his thumb over hers and whispered,

"All night, I've wanted to be here."

"Oh." Bellatrix couldn't say much more than that. She shut her eyes and soaked in the feel of him touching her hand, and she mumbled, "I want to apologise for what I did in the library. Screaming at you."

"I distinctly ordered you never to apologise again for that, Bellatrix," Voldemort snapped, and his hand stilled. Bellatrix opened her eyes, and his throat visibly bobbed as he told her, "Someday, you'll feel ready to see and handle and perhaps even take a man's anatomy, but there is no one rushing you through… well… perhaps your husband is trying to rush you, but I certainly am not."

Suddenly Bellatrix felt very confused, and she asked him seriously, "What is this, My Lord?"

"This?" he repeated dryly, pulling his hand back a little. He looked away and shrugged. "It is an affair. Nothing more, nothing less. What did you think it was?"
Bellatrix didn't answer that question. Instead she pondered, "When a wizard keeps a witch in an affair, she is called a mistress. But what is the equivalent for a wizard in a similar situation?"

"In your particular situation, you are my married servant, and I am your master," Voldemort snarled, and Bellatrix felt her eyes go wide.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and he just sighed and licked his lip as he said,

"Someday, Bella, you'll want a man, and it probably won't be Rodolphus. But first, long before you want a man's parts, you should probably let a man touch you without reciprocation. I suspect that would be a good… you seem confused."

"What sort of touching did you have in mind, Master?" Bellatrix asked, furrowing her brows, and Voldemort's own eyebrows flew up.

"That sort of touching," he said. "The same sort of touching you do to yourself."

Bellatrix's jaw dropped. "A wizard might touch me in the same way that I…"

Her cheeks went hot at the thought of that, and Voldemort scowled.

"Sorry," he said in a clip, clearing his throat, "but has Rodolphus never used his fingers to give you any semblance of pleasure?"

"No, Master," Bellatrix admitted, and Voldemort scoffed loudly.

"Foolish child," he sneered. "Idiot boy. I don't suppose his mouth ever came into the picture."

"His mouth?" Bellatrix felt mildly scandalised. She shook her head. "All that ever happened was that he used a lubrication charm on me, climbed on top of me and moved a little with it inside of me, and then he'd finish and that was that."

"What? No." Voldemort scratched his hair and shook his head. "That's… sex is not really meant to be like that."

"What's it meant to be like?" Bellatrix asked curiously, and he turned up half his mouth.

"Perhaps I'll show you someday. Someday when you're ready. But for now, I can't even touch you, because you're healing up from what I didn't quite realise was major surgery."

"Oh. Well, now I'm frustrated," Bellatrix said, squirming a little and feeling wet between her legs. She was warm and tingling, and she whispered, "I feel… different from usual in the presence of a man, I suppose."

"Hmm." Voldemort seemed pleased about that, and he threw up an eyebrow. He started to strip off his outer robe, throwing it over the back of the chair, and Bellatrix asked frantically,

"What… what are you doing, Master?"

"I'd like to hold you," he said simply, "if you'll permit it."

"Yes, please," she blurted immediately. Voldemort curled up the left side of his mouth and loosened his tie. He pulled it off and unbuttoned his sleeved and the first two buttons of his shirt. He kicked off his shoes, and he came around the far side of the bed. He climbed beneath the blankets and slithered toward Bellatrix. She lay down on her back, and then she turned away from Voldemort. She felt him wrap one arm around her, felt the slight push of his mild erection at the small of her back, and she whispered,

"Master…"

"Bella." He moved her braided curls and kissed the spot beneath her ear, and he mumbled again,

"All night I've wanted to be here."

Bellatrix tried to answer, but she couldn't. She had fallen fast asleep before her mind could formulate a coherent thought.

In the morning, when Bellatrix woke, he was gone, which didn't surprise her. But what did surprise her was that he'd been replaced in her bed by a bouquet of black pansies and a little note card in his neat script that read,

Good morning. No need to Preserve these; you'll be receiving more. - LV

Author's Note: Oh, Lord Voldemort. Celebrating and giggling about the death of an elderly Muggle-born, explaining mutually satisfactory sex to Bellatrix, and spooning and leaving flowers. He's a complicated guy. Thanks as always for reading and a HUGE thank you for leaving feedback.