Bellatrix paused with Rodolphus' blue flannel pyjamas in her hands.
She shouldn't have cared. She had the Dark Lord now. Lord Voldemort had carefully wiped Rodolphus' mind of the passion he'd had with Bellatrix. She was packing up a leather suitcase for him, which would be sent over to Edwina Fawley's flat. Tonight, Rodolphus would hold Edwina in his arms to comfort her. Bellatrix would go back to the Dark Lord's suite at Malfoy Manor, where he would undoubtedly hold her. So she shouldn't have cared.
But these were the pyjamas Rodolphus had worn on their wedding night, so she cared.
Bellatrix brought the flannel to her face and breathed in. They were freshly laundered, but she could still sense him on the pyjamas. She shut her eyes and remembered him, nervous as a lamb going to the slaughter. His lips had shaken against hers as he'd murmured, "I'm sorry if it's terrible." It hadn't been terrible, of course. He'd been warm and kind to her, and they'd fallen asleep together, blissful and exhausted.
Bellatrix dragged her finger over the pearlescent button on the front of the pyjamas, remembering the way her own hands had shaken as she'd stripped it off him that night. Children, they'd been, though it hadn't been so very long ago. They'd had breakfast together the next morning - oatmeal and cantaloupe and scalding hot tea. Rodolphus had given Bellatrix a little bleary-eyed smile that had told her everything, but still he'd assured her, "I love you more than anything, Bella."
She shoved the pyjamas into the leather suitcase, trying and failing to will away the tears in her eyes. She shouldn't care. He was gone from her, that silly boy. He'd damned himself when he'd strangled Bellatrix in a fit of jealous rage. He was lucky he wasn't dead, that Bellatrix had convinced Voldemort that Rodolphus had value as a mind-wiped soldier.
Bellatrix went into Rodolphus' bathroom and took out a little leather bag from his vanity drawer. She filled it with his wooden toothbrush and jar of paste, his tortoiseshell comb and his heavy steel razor. He could do most of it with magic, of course, but Rodolphus liked the ritual of combing and cleaning and shaving. So Bellatrix put the toiletries into the suitcase along with the pyjamas and underwear and two changes of clothes. She latched the suitcase shut and wrapped her fingers round its handle, and as she strode out of Rodolphus' rooms, she barked,
"Coopy!"
The House-Elf appeared out of thin air with a crack. He was young for a House-Elf, still bright-eyed and overeager. Bellatrix shoved the suitcase at Coopy, nearly knocking him over, and she snapped,
"Have this sent to the flat of Edwina Fawley. It's for Master Dolph."
Coopy grinned. "Yes, Madam Bellatrix. Yes, yes. Coopy will sent it straight away! Master Dolph won't have to wait any-"
"Go." Bellatrix put her hands on her hips. She stomped away from the House-Elf and went into her own rooms, quickly tossing a short, tight black nightgown and a fresh change of clothes into her own suitcase. She Summoned her own travel bag of toiletries that she kept ready for overnight missions, and she Disapparated straight out of her own rooms.
As she strolled up toward Malfoy Manor, clutching her suitcase in her hands and staring at the impressive house, her boots came to a stop. The spring night was unseasonably pleasant and still, and for a long moment, Bellatrix just stood. Suddenly a memory rushed straight back to her, playing behind the eyelids that fluttered shut.
'They withered?' Rodolphus seemed heartbroken. Bellatrix giggled a little as she looked down at the wad of ruined roses in her fist.
'It doesn't matter,' she said, far more kindly than usual. 'It's the thought that counts.'
'Yes, well. Apparently the spell needs some work.' Rodolphus reached to take the stems away from Bellatrix, but she yanked them back and shook her head.
'You didn't fail, Dolph. You made me smile. No easy feat.' She stepped closer to him, and he cupped her face in his hand and leaned down to kiss her carefully. Then he whispered,
'You're one of the good ones, Bella.'
Bellatrix blinked through the blur of tears as she forced herself up to the manor. She pulled the heavy door open and plodded up the main stairwell, then the winding stairs that led up to the level where the Dark Lord's suite was.
One of the good ones.
Rodolphus had said it a few times, most recently at the funeral. But he didn't love her anymore. He never would again. He probably had his suitcase now. Bellatrix hoped she'd packed everything he'd need. He'd never quite gotten the hang of Conjuring, but perhaps he could borrow something from Edwina if he needed it.
Bellatrix cleared her throat and reached up to knock on her master's door, shifting on her feet as a portrait behind her made a little yelp of alarm. Bellatrix turned round to see a plump, middle-aged witch go dashing out from her frame. Gossip among the paintings, Bellatrix thought, frowning deeply.
"Bella?"
She turned round again to find that the door to the suite had opened. At first, Lord Voldemort was smiling just a little, standing there in black pyjamas covered by an emerald green velvet robe. But then his smile disappeared, and he cleared his throat as he said almost gently, "Come inside."
She followed him into the parlour and set her suitcase down on the ground as Voldemort shut the door. He scowled at her then and demanded,
"What's happened?"
Bellatrix shook her head quickly, very cross with her own inability to keep tears from welling up in her eyes yet again. Stop crying, you fragile little fool, she scolded herself, but the tears came anyone.
"What's the matter?" Voldemort snapped, using his knuckle to drag her chin up. He narrowed his eyes and hissed, "Legilimens."
Bellatrix breathed in from the flannel of Rodolphus' pyjamas, remembering their wedding night… she stood in front of Malfoy Manor remembering the way he'd Conjured her roses when they'd been younger and newly in love… so in love.
Voldemort scoffed and let out a low little laugh as he pulled himself from Bellatrix's mind. She furrowed her brows up at him and shook her head slowly.
"Is it funny?"
She was being disrespectful, she knew, but just now she couldn't care. Voldemort licked his bottom lip and insisted,
"You never loved him. You couldn't possibly have done."
"Why not?" Bellatrix was insubordinate now, but still she left off his honorifics. Voldemort threw up his eyebrow and said,
"Because he was never anything more than a silly little boy."
Bellatrix threw her hands up. "That silly little boy took me for walks along the shore of the Black Lake. He came to visit me at my parents' house over summer holidays and endured the glare of my father, just so he could kiss me in the front hall. He put a ring on my finger and told me he could only be happy if I was his."
"Well, you're not his; you're mine," Voldemort snarled. "And, anyway, he nearly strangled you. He's a volatile child."
Bellatrix shut her eyes and took a trembling breath. She tried to imagine what Rodolphus was doing right now. Perhaps he was in the middle of kissing pretty, blonde Edwina. Perhaps she was pressed against a wall, Rodolphus' hands all over her.
"Bellatrix."
She felt Voldemort's hands take her face, felt his lips press to hers, and she breathed in the warm, earthy, masculine aroma that he exuded.
Bellatrix remembered the way Rodolphus had thrown a lamp at her, the way he'd gripped her neck so tightly in his hands that she had seen spots and her ears had rung. She remembered one time when Rodolphus had had too much to drink with his brother and had gotten handsy with a Malfoy girl at a Slytherin party. She remembered the way he'd picked at ear wax with his pinky finger, which had always disgusted Bellatrix and had driven her mad. She thought of the times he'd just plain annoyed her. She knew he was probably naked with Edwina Fawley right this moment.
"I want you," she heard Voldemort's voice say quietly beside her, his voice silk as her breath slowed. "I need you, Bellatrix; I need you to be mine."
Bellatrix opened her eyes and waited for him to pull back, and she nodded once.
"I am yours, Master."
Half his mouth turned up, and he reached around her back to pull down the zip of her black dress. He pulled it off her front, and suddenly Bellatrix was rather proud of her young, pert breasts in the thin white silk bra she wore. She thrust her chest out a little stepped away from her dress, and Voldemort cupped one breast in his hand, brushing a thumb over the nipple that had hardened through the silk.
"Do you know," he began quietly, "that at that party - the Malfoy Christmas party - I lost myself in your eyes when we danced. And I never found myself again; I've been lost in you since then."
"My Lord…" Bellatrix shut her eyes and pushed at his velvet robe until he released her and it fell heavily to the ground. Everything moved quickly then. Her bra and knickers came off, his pyjamas were removed. He urged her into the bedroom, and as they slithered up and back on the bed, the only thought Bellatrix had about Rodolphus was how very gone he was from her, and how very gone she was from him.
"This hair," Voldemort was saying, snaring his fingers into Bellatrix's wild, kinky ringlets. "How adore this blasted hair."
He kissed her hard, his lips trailing down her neck and dusting over the swell of her breast. He raised his eyes to her then, meeting them for such a long moment that Bellatrix fell into a little trance. She just stared, and he stared back, and the room around them seemed to dissolve away. He kept staring at her as he parted her knees, and then he whispered,
"I am utterly smitten by you. I can't fully explain why. I don't care why. I enjoy you in many ways."
He touched his tip to her, and Bellatrix wrenched her eyes shut against the now-familiar stretch and ache of his monstrous cock invading her. She sucked in air hard as he pushed in a few inches, and as he began to rock against her, she heard him insist,
"Breathe, Bella. Breathe."
She did, the air rickety as it trembled back and forth over her lips. She opened her eyes and found his again, and then they just stared as he moved. Finally, his hips stilled, though neither of them were anywhere near climax, and Voldemort said very firmly indeed,
"Everything that came before is irrelevant. For me, Bellatrix, there is only you. For you… there is only me. Do you understand me?"
Bellatrix nodded, and this time there were no tears at all. "Yes, Master. I understand."
Author's Note: Sorry for the break in writing! This holiday/concert/birthday weekend is kind of nuts for me ! I appreciate your patience. In the next chapter, we're definitely going to see some good old fashioned Death Eater mischief, so brace yourselves. :}