"Mr Mulciber. Mr Macnair. May I offer you tea or coffee?" Bellatrix asked, and Macnair shrugged as he came into the office.
"Water, perhaps? Hot day out today, even in the morning."
"Water'd be grand. Thanks, Miss… Miss Black," said Mulciber, and Bellatrix didn't correct the title. She just went over to the drinks stand she'd set up before the meeting and poured two tumblers of chilled water as the men sat opposite Lord Voldemort, and once she'd delivered the water, she offered,
"Water, Master?"
She used the word on purpose, for Mulciber and Macnair knew not only that she was Voldemort's employee, but that she was his wife in a careful legal arrangement. He seemed to very much appreciate her use of the term, and he curled up his lips as he asked,
"Tea? You know the way I like it."
She smiled and bowed her head submissively and set to work brewing him up a cup from the tea cart beside his desk. He'd cooled the air in his office with a Chilling Charm, so they weren't feeling the summer heat in here. Bellatrix put two tea bags in a cup and poured hot water over it, placing the cup and saucer on a folded napkin and putting it before Voldemort.
"Anything else, Master?" she asked carefully, flicking her eyes to see Mulciber's and Macnair's wonder at just how deferential she was. They seemed to mimic her a little then, adjusting their posture until they'd shrunk back just a little. Bellatrix went back to her desk and opened her notebook, inking up a quill.
"Well, My Lord," Macnair said, "We weren't expecting to actually carry out the attack today. We were only expecting to scout out Finian Magee. But… when we were waiting for him in the street outside his home in East London… well…"
"It was completely empty," Mulciber said. "We looked at one another and knew we might not get this chance again. We moved forward."
Bellatrix was surprised as she jotted down that information. She looked up to see Voldemort fold his hands and shrug calmly.
"And?" He Vanished the tea bags from his cups and sipped his bitter tea, and Macnair said,
"Well, I cast a Shield Charm around us, along with Muggle Repelling Charms, just in case. Then Mulciber Stunned Magee. We took his wand and his money."
Macnair pulled out a wand and handed it to Voldemort, who said calmly,
"Birch wood. Phoenix feather core. A fine trophy. Keep the money… divide it equally between yourselves."
Macnair and Mulciber grinned at each other, and Mulciber said,
"We put Stinging Hexes on him, sir, and then we put a few other injury spells - Bruising Jinxes, a Splintered Jaw Hex - and we used little Severing Charms to cause small cuts on him. Enough to bleed a little, but not enough that he couldn't stagger to the Ministry."
"We altered his memory, My Lord," Macnair said. "I was very careful; you know I'm skilled with Memory Charms. He won't remember that it was us, specifically, and I scrambled his mind a bit. If anyone asks what happened to him, he'll just say that he deserved the attack because he's got filthy blood."
Voldemort smiled, and Bellatrix couldn't help giggling softly from where she sat. She wrote down,
Magee will say that he earned the attack due to his 'filthy blood.'
She looked up again, and Voldemort sighed contentedly. He nodded and said,
"Macnair, Mulciber, I am very pleased. Very proud. I will write to Yaxley to ensure that any Ministry investigation appears thorough but leads to dead ends. Be sure you keep souvenir copies of tomorrow's Daily Prophet. You are a part of a great movement here. I am happy with your service. Dismissed."
"Thank you, sir." Macnair and Mulciber bowed their heads respectfully. When they rose, Bellatrix showed them out, and they both gave her rather strange, though vaguely friendly, looks. Bellatrix shut the door behind them and leaned against it, squealing a little as she clenched her fists and grinned at Voldemort. He stood up and walked toward her, looking very happy, and when he reached her, he immediately snared his hands around her waist and bent to kiss her.
"Are you happy, Master?" she asked, and he just nodded as he kissed her harder against the door. Bellatrix felt his hand working up her thigh, beneath her skirt, and she moaned softly, rather excitedly wondering if she was about to get taken against a door. He moved his mouth to his neck, making her moan more than ever as his fingers slipped into her knickers and started to play with her clit.
But then there was a knocking behind her, and Bellatrix gasped as Voldemort flew away and cleared his throat, covering his crotch with his hands. Bellatrix opened the door, feeling her cheeks go very hot, and saw Macnair standing there, looking a little surprised.
"I, erm… I forgot my hat," he said, and Bellatrix just nodded.
"I'll fetch it for you, Mr Macnair," she said, and as she dashed back over to the chair where Macnair had been sitting, grabbing his lightweight wool folding wizard's cap, she heard Voldemort say tightly,
"Very well done, Macnair. The others will know how well you and Mulciber did. And I shall write to Yaxley straight away."
"Yes, My Lord. Thank you, Miss… erm… Mrs… Riddle." Macnair seemed mildly confused by what to call Bellatrix, and suddenly her mirth dissolved as she faked a smile and shut the door behind him. She sighed as she turned around, and she shrugged.
"Well, that was awkward," she said lightly, and Voldemort pointed out,
"I really should get that letter off to Yaxley as soon as possible. Why don't you record the summary of the meeting, hm?"
She nodded and made her way to her desk, and the two of them got to work at once.
Bellatrix was drawn out of the formal sitting room, where she was reading a book about the history of ghouls in manors, by the smell of the food cooking in the kitchen. When she walked in there, she said,
"I wish you'd let me help you, My Lord."
"I like cooking," he said simply. She stood in the threshold of the kitchen and watched him pour a bottle of sparkling apple cider over a cast iron skillet with two pork chops in it. He placed two sprigs of fresh rosemary over them. Bellatrix had gone to The Pumpkin and the Pepper Pot for him earlier with a shopping list, and now he was baking up jacket potatoes and making pork chops. It all smelled divine, and the sizzle in the skillet made Bellatrix's mouth water. Voldemort flipped the lids off of two bottles of cider with his wand and handed them to Bellatrix, and with a few more swishes of his wand, the table was made. Bellatrix smiled as she took the ciders to the table, and her smile grew when he came in and put a buttery jacket potato and a pork chop on her plate.
"Thank you, Master," she said. "May I clean up?"
"Already done," he said, and she glanced into the kitchen to see the cast iron skillet lying Scoured and clean on the counter. He Banished it back into a cupboard with his wand, and she marveled,
"Your magic astounds me."
He snorted a little laugh and sat opposite her, and as he sipped his cider, he said,
"Things went very well with Mulciber and Macnair. I was pleased with that. Yaxley assures me that he'll make it look like he's searching diligently, perhaps even that he's got a few leads, but that Magee's addled mind means they can't get anywhere with an investigation."
Bellatrix shivered where she sat and told him,
"I'm so happy. It makes me so happy when good things happen to you."
He just stared at her for a long moment then, and finally he cut into his pork chop and noted,
"Macnair was not certain what to call you. Have you a preference?"
"Oh. Yes. That." Bellatrix cut into her own pork chop, taking a bite of the cooked onion and cider-soaked meat. She swallowed it and shrugged. "They can just keep calling me Miss Black if they want, can't they?"
Voldemort frowned down at his plat and took a bite of potato. "Unusual," he said, "for a married witch to be called Miss."
"But you dislike the surname Riddle," she pointed out, "and it isn't as though I can be… you know, Mrs Voldemort."
They both laughed a little at that, until he put his knife and fork down and folded his hands on the table. He licked his bottom lip and said delicately,
"I imagine you won't want to change your name, seeing as how we're meant to divorce in three months' time. Mrs Black will do fine, if you need to correct anyone."
She just blinked a few times, her stomach hurting at the thought of walking into the Registration Office with him to file for divorce. Three months. It would only be autumn, and she'd be filing for divorce from him. Her eyes seared like mad, and it only got worse when Voldemort said carefully,
"One of the letters I received this afternoon was from Morton Selwyn. He said his son Emery would be interested in courting you so once you're legally liberated from this particular marriage and free to pursue a marriage to a boy your own age. Do you know him?"
Bellatrix's mouth fell open. "Emery Selwyn? Oh. Erm. Yes… he was a year ahead of me in school. He was betrothed, but I know they mutually broke it off. He was a Quidditch player, but very bright. A kind enough boy. Very handsome."
"Hmm." Voldemort chewed his lip and said, "Well, he'd like to court you. So. I'm sure you'll have plenty of options."
"I don't want options, Master," Bellatrix said numbly. He raised his eyes to her and shook his head a little, and he finally asked her,
"Are we still going to Greece?"
"Yes, please," she said, and then she added, "I don't want to be courted by Emery Selwyn."
"You've just told me that he's intelligent, kind, and handsome," Voldemort clipped. "Why wouldn't you -"
"I want to stay with you," Bellatrix burst out. He just stared at her across the table, and she threw her hands up helplessly. "I don't want to talk about planning a divorce anymore. I don't want to plan a divorce. I don't want to divorce you."
He shut his eyes and reached for his bottle of cider, which he sipped in silence. He took a few bites of pork chop and potato, and then he set his knife and fork down again and reminded her,
"You only agreed to marry me because it was a loophole to save you from the Lestranges. And we've only known one another for a very short time."
"The thought of divorcing you makes me want to cry," Bellatrix said firmly, and Voldemort admitted softly,
"Well, I don't want to divorce you, either. I want to take you to Greece."
"All right. Let's go to Greece, then," Bellatrix whispered, and they finished their meal in complete silence.
Author's Note: My sincere apologies for the (relative) delay in updating as well as the suckiness of this chapter… my son and I came down overnight with a severe stomach bug, and so I am really ill today. In between hucking into a bucket (yay!) I managed to get this written, but I almost certainly won't be able to update until tomorrow. Apologies for that and thanks for your patience.