Thank you so much everyone who has taken the time to review, they are so lovely to read. I just wanted to let you know that I expect there is likely to be only around about four chapters plus an epilogue left (although I thought that a couple of chapters ago), I hadn't expected this to be so long but I have been really enjoying writing it. Since the very start I knew how this was going to end, I just hope it is not going to leave anyone disappointed. Thanks for reading and for all your feedback.
"Come Bella."
Voldemort waved her into the old stone house. It had been a bed and breakfast, run by an elderly couple with previously three guests. It was now empty.
He had apparated them to the secluded house, it was perfectly situated on the coast of Devon, overlooking the sea and very private. It was old stone, one side completely coated in ivy, rather quaint. Asking Bellatrix to wait outside on arrival, he had quickly despatched of the friendly owners.
She followed him now. A small fire was burning in the reception room, it was filled with traditional furniture and quite comfy.
He turned to Bella who stood uncomfortably by the door with their bag over her shoulder. "Go upstairs, choose a room to stay in."
Looking surprised by his offer, she vanished up the stairs, she wasn't going to give him time to change his mind. He headed towards the kitchen, it had been a very long day and they had had little sustenance. In the fridge was plentiful food, including two plates of dinner that needed to be reheated. It was fortunate for them the owners had been so prepared; he placed them in the microwave and left it to cook.
Climbing the stairs to see which room Bella had chosen, he eventually found her in the farthest room. He could tell it would offer the greatest view of the sea outside. The room was tastefully decorated, a large double bed with heavy navy bedsheets and a old armoire in the corner. Voldemort barely registered this as he was much too focused on working out what Bellatrix was occupied doing.
She was bent down on her knees, looking at something on the wall. He moved further into the room to get a better view and heard a switch flick.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Alarmed at his warning she stopped poking around at the plug socket to look up at him curiously.
"I don't understand what it does. Pressing the button doesn't do anything."
It was difficult not to express his wry amusement at her ignorance. "It is an electric socket. You have to plug things in and it allows them to be powered through electricity." He stepped over to the lamp on the desk and showed her the lead with the heavy plug on the end.
"The socket has wires connected to electricity, try to avoid sticking your fingers in there unless you want to be electrocuted."
Warily she looked back at the seemingly innocent wall attachment.
"There is food heating, we should eat something before we retire."
He went back downstairs without waiting for her but as usual she followed obediently. As he reached the kitchen, the microwave pinged and with a tea-towel he pulled the steaming plate out and set it on the table.
"You can have that one."
With some confusion she went to the drawer and pulled out some cutlery, watching as he placed his own food on to heat.
"What is that, master?"
"It's a microwave, used for heating and cooking food. Another muggle invention."
Her curiosity brought her closer, seeing him so close to it, she must have decided it couldn't be dangerous.
"But how does it work, there is nothing in there to heat it, no fire. Unless… well they haven't stolen magic for it?"
It would have been easy to lie to her, to convince her that muggles were a danger to her magic but some part of him wanted to teach her these things. After all, she would need to know how to use much of the equipment for the next few days.
"No. It's just a microwave, it uses radiation to heat things up. It's put on a timer.
She nodded as she slowly sat down before her food, making no room to eat. He could guess her unasked question.
"As I am sure you must know, magic interferes with muggle electronics. A small amount would be alright but living in a muggle house unfortunately we will need to use their things. The lights, the heating, everything would be effected so it is best to avoid using magic if possible around this stuff, as loathe as I am to touch this muggle junk."
He smirked when she jumped at the ping from the microwave, he hadn't bothered to warn her about that. He joined her at the table, a large stained oak thing.
It didn't take him long to polish off his food, he noted again with irritation that she barely touched her food. When he was done, he let her wash up and went off to read the various tourist brochures left in the reception room. It seemed most of the local shows were amateur performances.
There was a show tomorrow by the coast that didn't entirely look promising and a national premier a couple of days after. That was likely his best chance, the rest of the calendar was largely empty for a number of months.
He heard Bellatrix going up the stairs and decided he should retire too. He passed her room on the way and noticed she was staring into the wardrobe. There were muggle clothes already hung up and he realised why she was staring uncomfortably at them.
She didn't hear him enter the room until he was standing behind her, he slowly closed the door, hiding the contents from their view.
Instead of saying anything, she just turned away from him, picking up their bag and rifling through it as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Get what you need out now, I'll take the bag."
"Yes master."
Her voice was monotonous as she answered. The few clothes she owned were placed on the bed and she handed the bag over to him.
He watched her for another moment, she didn't acknowledge him as she picked at the clothes laid out distractedly, absorbed as she was in her thoughts.
"They were only muggles, you shouldn't spend too much time thinking about them."
She hummed for a moment before she realised he would likely want an actual response. "Yes, master."
Voldemort moved around to her side of the bed, grabbing her hand that wasn't fiddling with the clothes. She tensed immediately in his grasp, just about resisting pulling away, understanding that her obvious morose and the response she had given had annoyed him. Her hand felt rather delicate in his own larger one, as if he was holding onto a small bird, whose hollow bones could be crushed in a single moment.
"They are nothing like us. They do not deserve your sympathy or sadness. They are your inferiors and they know it, they would have tried to hurt you if they knew what you really were. They would fear what you are." As he spoke spitefully, his grip on her hand tightened until she cried out in pain.
He released it after a moment, not wanting to cause any real injury and she clutched it to her chest protectively with her other hand. Sweeping her locks of hair over her shoulder, he took a moment to trace along the exposed skin along her neck to her shoulder where the strange patterned scarring remained from his curse.
"I am only telling you these things for your own good. You cannot trust muggles, I have spent enough time around them to understand that. They will hurt you."
The look she gave him made his chest tighten for the briefest moment. He could see it, that she wanted to believe him, she wanted to be able to trust him but confusion and suspicion remained. He knew she must have heard the same things from her family, all pureblood families taught their children this, he doubted it would be any different for her simply because her blood had been sullied. The reason she had difficulty reconciling this was simply because it was him telling her. He had caused her to question everything she knew, her own identity, even her reality at times.
The Dark Lord had manipulated it all. He wanted her to believe him, he wanted her to trust him and he needed to control her.
Voldemort stared at the waxy, off coloured flesh of his newly made puppets before him. It had taken him all day, the shed at the end of the long sloping garden by the sea the best place to conduct his dark magic. He had finally finished the fifth and last dead body.
He watched them as they stared off, no focus to their cloudy eyes. Nothing at all left of them, the most horrifying epitome of decay.
With a wave of his wand, their faces bowed and eyes closed like some mockery of sleep. The fatigue seeped down to his bones but this task was too important to be delayed by something so human.
It had been frustrating, not knowing. He had travelled all this way on the basis of a rumour. Not that he had any better option, he was now technically homeless after the Order's attack and it was probably better to stay somewhere private than to guest constantly at his followers homes which were repeatedly subject to raids.
This gave him purpose. He was determined that he would make every hour count whilst he was waiting for the show to start.
"Master, I-"
He whipped around when he realised Bellatrix had walked in. She froze when she saw the five inferi standing in front of him. It took her a moment to understand what she was looking at.
"What…?"
She gasped and stumbled out of the shed looking shellshocked.
Groaning to himself, he followed after her, magically locking the shed behind him.
"Bellatrix."
She scrambled to get away from him. He couldn't hide the exasperation in his voice.
"Stop it. Bella."
She finally stopped. "That is monstrous. That's what you have been doing all day? It wasn't enough for you to kill them… you- you had to do that to them? Are they allowed no peace?"
The impassioned outburst had her out of breath as she looked at him with what could only be described as abject horror. It was as if she had become conditioned to the cruel things he did, for some reason this seemed to go beyond that. It had been such a long time since he had seen such a reaction from her.
"I think you have forgotten who you are talking to."
She stared at him, stubbornness making her hold his gaze for a few seconds before finally lowering it.
"Every morning you wake up, every single breath you take, is only on my mercy. You had better not forget that. What I do to them, is nothing compared to what I could do to you, you are still alive to understand it."
It mollified him to see her submission. He had known for a while she was becoming too comfortable with him.
"Now why did you come to disturb me in the first place?"
She didn't raise her face at all as she answered him, it seemed she was sulking. "One of your Death Eaters sent a message by floo to you, he said you had arranged to talk at this time, master."
He wanted to roll his eyes at her in irritation, he just wanted her to remember her place. To show him the respect he deserved. No need for her to shrink completely into herself.
"Go back into the house, Bella."
She nodded obediently and escaped his presence. Voldemort paused for another moment, listening to the waves crashing against the waves of the shallow cliff at the end of the garden. The cool salty sea breeze ruffled through his cloak, it was invigorating and he followed after her.
The house felt warm in comparison. Bellatrix had already disappeared somewhere else in the house so he headed directly up the stairs to his room. He had set up a temporary floo connection to reach his various followers, in the short term it was likely safer than owls. This fireplace was the only other in the house except for that in the reception room.
With a dash of floo powder he stuck his head in.
"Yaxley, you have news?"
The tall, slick man was sat opposite the fireplace, waiting on his Lord. "Yes, excellent news. Your plan worked, Fredrick Stumps was detained today. Wilkes is now in charge of the Prophet. With the number of followers you have planted in the company, we now essentially own the media."
It was a satisfying feeling when a plan came to fruition as intended. "You know what the next step is?"
The man smirked, a disturbing sight for someone so sleazy looking. "Obviously we will stop printing all that rubbish about the disappeared."
"Yes. I want more anti-establishment stuff, a few things about the ineffectiveness of the aurors, how their tactics are now harming more innocents than criminals, how their use of the unforgivable is causing casualties. Spin the election further into Crouch's favour. It will be difficult but we need to highlight the failings of Hogwart's, make it clear the school is accountable to the ministry. This needs to be subtle. People are stupid but we need to show restraint until we control the government."
Yaxley nodded, a blank expression on his face. Despite his apparent nonchalance to the instructions, he knew the man was clever and shrewd.
"Manage this well and I will give you a very prominent position in the ministry."
"I will, my Lord."
Voldemort pulled his head back. This was just the advance he needed, it reassured him that his machinations were a success. He couldn't allow himself to lose focus on the war whilst he was off searching.
He heard the sound of cutlery and pots banging and he knew Bellatrix must be preparing dinner. It would not be too long before they would have to head off to the first show.
The Dark Lord went into her room, he noted the sun was beginning to set over the sea outside as it seemed to bleed fiery orange, she certainly had chosen the best view. He opened up the wardrobe, as he had suspected, she hadn't replaced the clothes inside with her own. They were muggle clothes, clearly the young couple had been staying in this room.
He pulled out a simple black dress, it had a high straight neck line and would likely end just above the knee. It was smart and would have to do for this evening.
Carrying it downstairs, he draped it over the back of one of the dining chairs.
"You will wear this."
She looked up, as she was serving up onto two plates, in confusion.
"Tonight, we will be going to a show. You need to fit in with the muggles."
It was obvious she was uneasy, especially given his sharp words and the scene she had witnessed earlier.
Their dinner was a quiet affair. They were both distracted by their separate thoughts and he eventually commanded her to clean up and get dressed upstairs. He knew her thoughts continued to drift to the reanimated corpses in the shed at the end of the garden.
He put on a suit he found in his own wardrobe, likely it belong to the older owner, it was outdated and not the best fit. He wasn't concerned with this.
When he was done, he found Bellatrix sat on the edge of the bed. She had put on the simple dress and wore a warm jumper over the top with a smart pair of heels.
"Come here."
"I can take it off, I was only wearing to keep warm in here, master."
It didn't look too bad with the dress and he knew the event was more smart-casual than anything else. "I don't care about that, you can keep it on. Come stand before me."
She did as he ordered, clearly apprehensive with standing before him, particularly when he pulled out his wand. She was still expecting a backlash from her discovery earlier.
Murmuring spells under his breath, the features of her face began to morph. Her pale skin became sun kissed as her hair became dirty blonde. Freckles scattered across her skin and he changed her eye colour to a light hazel.
By the time he finished, she was unrecognisable. The glamours wouldn't last long but it would give them ample time for the show. She ran her hands through her straightened hair, examining the ends of it in her hands.
Turning the wand on himself, he rather reluctantly did the same. His face was not one readily recognised in the wizarding world yet but it was probably still worthwhile. His own hair became much shorter and reddened, his eyebrows following suit. He didn't bother to change anything else.
"Let's go."
He grasped her wrist and apparated away.
It was fortunate he had allowed her to keep her jumper. The theatre was open air, the seats were carved into the granite cliff so they could see the sea behind the performance. They had apparated in a field over from it and wandered over to the growing crowd.
It was pretty busy considering it wasn't the height of the season and the weather was pretty changeable. He kept a close eye on the audience at all times.
It was a showing of Parsifal, he didn't know anything of the story. Thought they were enthusiastic, it was abundantly clear they were an amateur group. He couldn't pay any attention to the what was happening as he kept watching everyone, probing a few minds every so often. He already knew it was fruitless. Flamel wasn't there.
There was no evidence to support this but his instinct was strong and generally reliable. Bellatrix was shaking beside him because of the cold and he realised why there likely wasn't many showings at this time of year. He was sure that Flamel would be after something more highbrow, after six hundred years, his tastes were probably very discerning.
By the time the interval came he was bored out of his mind, a sense of agitation had him itching to move. He glanced over, it felt alien to him, having this stranger sitting next to him.
"Get up, we are going."
Bellatrix didn't question this, he could guess she was eager as he was to leave to return to some warmth.
The house was quiet when they returned and he was in a foul mood. Even though he hardly expected success immediately, after all the man had been hidden for centuries, there was a feeling of taking his eye off the ball.
Bella had moved toward the still burning fireplace, holding her hands out to try and warm them up again. He followed her, hovering over her shoulder, his hand tugging on the blonde ends of her hair.
He knew he had become distracted recently, more and more he had been aware that he needed to fix this. Every time he thought of the solution and he did know what the easy solution would be, he pushed it to the back of his mind, unwilling to go through with it.
Feeling the ends of the soft hair between his fingertips, he wondered if he just needed a substitute. Spending so much time with just one other person could distort things. Perhaps he just needed to spend time with someone else, work off his frustration without complicating things.
Having warmed up, Bella withdrew her hands from the fire and looked over her shoulder at him. It was disorientating, he knew it was still her but someone else's face was looking at him. She was still very pretty, some men he was sure would prefer her appearance this way but it wasn't the same.
He held his wand up, the tip just below her chin. Understanding what he was doing, for once she didn't flinch at the wand directed at her.
Her features melted away, returning to those that were so familiar to him. The dirty blonde disappeared as her ebony locks transformed before him. Those sharp eyes watched him take in all her features.
"What's wrong, master?"
It was a half whisper, as of she thought if she spoke too loud, the peace would shatter.
With a heavy sigh, he pulled himself back in control. There was just too much going on to lose his way.
"Get ready for bed Bellatrix."
He stepped back from her, giving her space to head toward the stairs. Watched as she climbed them, vanishing from his view.
She was becoming more dangerous to him and he isn't sure how long he could ignore it.
The Dark Lord watched the witches and wizards rushing around the labyrinth of alleyways. It was the day of the election, there was an air of excitement about the people around him. As if there actually was a potential for great change. He had seen them lining up to get to the polls, the heavily armoured aurors standing guard.
They didn't realise he wouldn't send an attack. They didn't realise he was manipulating them all into voting for his own choice. They had turned away from a hardliner, someone who may have been able to rally against him. Instead they chose his uncharismatic underdog, he was ambitious and ruthless but would never have got to power without him.
Voldemort had been making every hour count as they waited for the show to start. He had spent the last two days moving the inferi from the cave. With no horcrux there, they had nothing to defend. All that time and energy, the pure dark magic that had gone into creating them would not go to waste. He moved them to several strategic positions, near prime settlements where they would not be discovered before he could command them.
Tonight the Royal Opera house was hosting Tosca. It was a premier showing and the most promising thing for the next couple of months. If there was nothing tonight he would have to reconsider the best use of his time.
With a malicious smirk he pulled a poster off the stone wall. They were everywhere, along with a number of others. Person of Interest. That's what they called her. Underneath was a moving picture of Bellatrix, he wasn't sure where they had got it, he didn't remember seeing it at her flat.
She stared out, a rather enigmatic expression on her face. She barely moved, unlike the occupants of other posters, most of them sneering or scowling out at anyone who looked at them.
He stuffed it into his pocket before disapparating, reappearing in the small reception room, a fire burning in the modest fireplace. Despite the traditional furnishings, there were enough gadgets to make it abundantly clear it was a muggle residence. It was neat and tidy, he knew Bella had been spending her time cleaning everything.
He supposed she had very little else to occupy herself with, trapped as she was. He had given enough leeway to allow her out in the garden but would not extend the wards to the edge of the small raised coast that melted into the tumultuous sea.
The ennui seemed to be affecting Bellatrix. She had become unwell, he knew she was eating very little and always seemed so preoccupied. He hardly bothered to look into her mind these days, he struggled to find sense in the bizarre, disjointed thoughts. They were not of any consequence.
The Dark Lord strode through the house until he found her, looking through an old photo album in one of the empty bedrooms. Over her shoulder he could see smiling faces of an old couple, he recognised that they had been the owners. Like all muggle photographs, the occupants were unmoving.
"We are going out again tonight."
She turned to him, surprised at his return. "Shall I get dressed again?"
Snapping at her he responded. "Yes, of course." It had become a strange routine for her. "This will be a fancier event than the others. Calls for a more sophisticated outfit than those muggles dresses. Come."
She jumped up and trailed after him immediately as he led her to his own room. He flicked the light on and headed to the armoire in the corner, opening it up. Inside each door were two outfit bags.
Creating and moving inferi was not the only thing keeping him busy, he had stopped at an old wizarding garment establishment in Edinburgh that morning. The young saleswoman had hardly raised an eyebrow when he had simply asked for the smartest dress and suit, something suitable for muggle events. He wasn't one for shopping, particularly not for women. Now was his chance to see how good the young woman's taste had been. It was imperative that they blend in.
"Take this and go get ready, you need to look like you belong. We do not want to draw attention to ourselves." She went to leave but paused when he continued. "You have already had more than enough attention."
He held the poster out to her. With trepidation and confusion she approached until she was close enough to see her picture.
"What?" With a gasp she snatched it from his hand, reading it greedily for information. He could pinpoint the exact moment her spirit was crushed as she realised what the poster meant. It confirmed everything he had been telling her.
"I told you the Order was after you, and the ministry too now. You better hope we take over the ministry sooner rather than later."
He pulled the poster from her loose grasp, her devastation was obvious, and threw it into the fire. "Now go, push it from your mind. You need to change."
Numbly she took the outfit away, returning to her own room and he moved to fireplace. The poster had already curled up in the flames and turned to ash.
With a flash of powder he stuck his head into the flames and saw Yaxley waiting there for him.
"My Lord."
"Well?"
He cleared his throat and rocked on his feet for a moment. "The ministry had to release Barty Jr today, we were very lucky. The current laws only allowed them to hold him until today before they had to make a formal arrest, they couldn't do that without any solid evidence."
"Excellent." He truly was relieved. Barty was extremely loyal and he couldn't deny that he was apprehensive that this loyalty would cause him to admit his allegiance to their enemies. At least the boy had some sense.
"Yes, Wilkes has printed a great article about reuniting father and son today, it has provided a last minute boost for the election."
"Have you talked to Barty?"
"Not personally. I received an owl a few hours ago from him. He wanted me to pass on a message that as part of Crouch's new measures against you, if he wins he wants to repeal law that states everyone should face a trial before judgement. It would make justice more efficient or something."
He almost wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy. "This is perfect for us. We can force his hand into implementing this very undemocratic agenda and when we take over, it will already be enshrined in law. We will not have sully our hands with bending the constitution."
Yaxley seemed mildly impressed with this concept.
"The results of the election will be released tonight, in two days we will launch a strike. It will be a devastating blow to his new leadership and force him to enact these measures."
"It cannot fail, my Lord."
With a sharp tone he responded. "No, it cannot."
He withdrew from the fireplace pleased that plans seemed to be going in his favour. In some sense it bolstered his instincts that tonight would wield some useful information. Whilst he had his horcrux, he was immortal but the elixir would protect his corporeal body for a short time, if he understood it correctly. He had no desire to have his body destroyed and if he was essentially indestructible, he could face any of his enemies. Dumbledore would be the first to be eliminated and the rest would drop like flies.
It took him little time to change. The shop assistant had done well in selecting the perfect muggle suit. It was a cleaner fit than the outdated muggle thing he had been borrowing.
Sure he had given more than enough time for Bella to get ready he opened his door, intent on finding her. It caught him by surprise to catch her standing outside his room.
She looked breathtaking in her dress, a vast improvement from the plain dresses she had been wearing. The beautiful, simple navy dress highlighted her figure, the dark colour contrasting with her pale skin and illuminating her eyes. She had somehow managed a small amount of makeup, he was unsure if it was the muggles or magic. The off the shoulder neckline highlighted her delicate collarbone and gave the most tantalising hint of cleavage. He knew a necklace would have finished the look but he had no jewellery. Only the diadem.
Admittedly it would be beautiful, perched atop her shimmering hair but there was no way he was doing that. It was probably safer in her possession than his own, no one would suspect it. Despite this, he could never give it over to her.
Looking at the clock, he saw it was nearly time.
"We should go."
It was only then he realised he had forgotten to get them coats. Their cloaks would look too out of place. He was fine but Bella's dress was thin, he knew she would be cold.
"We shall apparate straight there, around the corner from it."
She nodded obediently and with some hesitancy she placed her bare arm on his offered one.
With a near silent pop, they apparated in an alley around the corner from the opera house. Bellatrix tried to suppress a shiver as the cool air hit them. He thought that another man would have offered her their suit jacket.
"Let us go, it is not far."
He strode off, Bella racing to keep up with them in her heels and as they neared the opera house, meeting other patrons, he realised it would draw attention to act as they were. He slowed to let her catch up, walking side by side the rest of the way.
His wand crept down into his sleeve as they reached the door, a discrete imperious curse ensured they were let in and directed to a box. He needed a prime position to view the rest of the audience.
Against all instinct, he placed a hand in the middle of her back, leading her along the carpeted staircase to be shown to the box. The usher pulled back the heavy curtain, allowing them to take their seats. He noted the other seats were half full, the noise rising up as excited guests found their places.
Voldemort noticed his companion's gaze around the grand old victorian building, the opera hall was much more impressive than the last venues they had attended. He was sure being raised in a pureblood household as she was, she was used to such splendour but he supposed she wasn't used to it being so muggle.
He in comparison had never dreamed of attending such events as a child, they were much beyond anything he would have imagined. Few children growing up in the post-war poverty stricken London he knew, would even have know what an opera was. It was not ever something he wanted, he saw no point in status or even riches. It was only power he craved.
Examining those around him, he realised it was going to be difficult, he had no idea what Flamel looked like. If he was even here at all. A man over six hundred years of age, he may look as young as Bella depending on the age he created it and the effects of the stone.
As the crowd settled in their seats, murmuring in-distinctively to each other, the lights dimmed. Lively music immediately started up and the curtain rose.
The Dark Lord had little interest, music had never had much appeal for him and he was focused on his task at hand. Voldemort watched the audience as they in turn watched the show, it was interesting to observe people when they didn't realise there were eyes on them. He glanced at Bella beside him, she appeared enthralled with the story. He supposed it would be very easy to entertain someone who had been trapped in a house as she had been. With one eye on the audience, he watched the story on the stage enfold. It seemed a rather poignant tale although he found it difficult to become absorbed in.
After what seemed a ridiculously long time, the curtain finally fell for the interval.
"Come, lets mingle."
Somewhat perturbed at the idea, she allowed him to lead her back out toward the bar. Jostled in the crowd, he led her to a small table.
"Sit. Keep an eye out for anyone that might be magical. I will be back in a few moments."
He headed toward the bar, scanning the small gathered crowd and waited casually to be served. Cautiously, he prodded into the minds of a few people, the muggles would not noticed but he was a little worried that Flamel could feel it.
"Can I help you sir?"
Caught by surprise he turned to the young barman. "Yes." He hadn't actually thought about what he should order, the crowd around him were clamouring for the attention of the bar staff so he quickly responded. "A glass of red wine and a whiskey."
He wouldn't drink it but it would be strange to stand at a bar with no drink. As he glanced back to Bella, he saw her observing the other patrons around her. Behind her was an older couple sat at a similar table, he almost looked away when he caught a glimpse of a wand. Perfect.
As he collected the drinks, a very discreet confundo to avoid paying, he wondered why they even had a Statue of Secrecy. Muggles were so oblivious, using magic in front of them rarely attracted any attention. Bella's eyebrows raised when he set the wine glass in front of her. The stupid woman looked like she had no idea what to do with it. He had no idea if she actually liked wine.
"You are allowed to drink it."
For appearance sake, he took a sip of his own drink, barely suppressing a grimace at the taste. He watched the older couple over Bella's shoulder. They looked to be in their early seventies but in good health. They were laughing merrily between themselves. Surely it couldn't be them, he couldn't believe that anyone could bear to spend over six hundred years with the same person, never mind still find things to laugh about together.
There was a call back to return for the second act. He watched as the man helped his partner up out of her seat and they made to pass them. With a split second to think on it, he knocked the wine glass off the table just as the woman brushed past.
Bellatrix had missed his movement and gasped in genuine shock when it tumbled off the table, spilling everywhere. The couple turned back at the commotion, immediately assuming fault.
"I am so sorry deary." The older woman turned to their table, resting a hand on Bella shoulders and she lifted the glass off the floor. "Nick, go get them another glass."
"Certainly." He smiled good-humouredly and rushed off to the bar which was near empty as everyone filtered out.
"Don't worry about that, they can clean that up." She tried to reassure Bella as she attempted to swab up the mess. "As long as none of it got on that beautiful dress of yours then it's alright."
"Yes, I am fine thank you."
The older woman nodded approvingly. "I'm Perry, this is my husband Nick." Her companion rejoined them, handing the glass to Bella who gratefully took it.
"Suppose we should be heading back to our seats now."
Perry brushed off her husband. "Yes in a moment. So how have you two been finding the show? It's marvellous, isn't it. My favourite opera, though I have seen it so many times, this production is just delightful. Have you seen it before?"
Appearing a little overwhelmed by the familiarity from the older woman, Bella responded quietly. "No, this is my first time."
"Oh, you are in for a treat then. I don't want you to miss a second of it, come we should get back in."
Nick appeared amused at his wife's behaviour and they headed back, parting ways to return to the box.
The second half of the show passed in a daze as he watched his prey like a hawk. It had to be them. It would be too large a coincidence for them, two magical folk with the names he was looking for.
Beautiful music filled the opera hall, he noticed a number of women in the audience, including Perry, with tears in their eyes. When he looked to Bellatrix, she was captivated by the tragic scene on the stage, her hand rested over her heart. She didn't notice him watching her rapture.
He understood why the opera was as popular as it was but he could hardly wait for it to be over. At last the curtain fell to a standing ovation and he forced Bellatrix to her feet.
"We need to get back to the entrance."
He dragged her along so they could get ahead of the crowd, she could barely manage with her heels. He waited as the crowd spilled out, thinning as they rushed to get out into the street. He spotted his target taking the stairs slowly and pulled Bella along so they reached beside them.
"Hello again."
They smiled pleasantly at him as they recognised them.
"Hello, so did you enjoy the opera?"
The woman automatically addressed Bella who responded sincerely. "It was beautiful. I have never heard such music and it was just so sad."
The older woman clutched her hand, tapping it sympathetically. "All the greatest opera's are tragedies, that is something life teaches you, to see the beauty in the tragic."
Though he couldn't deny that it could only be helpful that Perry seemed to have developed some kind of rapport with Bellatrix, he needed to resume control of the situation.
"We wanted to thank you for the drink, it really wasn't necessary. We want to return the favour, if you know somewhere around here that would be perfect or you're welcome to come back to our B and B, it's not far."
The older couple glanced at each other before Nick answered. "Thank you very much for the invitation but I think it's getting late for us, we don't have the energy that we used to. I think it will be a quiet one for us but I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."
With a patient nod they continued walking toward the exit. "Alright then, it was nice meeting you too."
"And you too."
They parted way out on the street and he watched the old couple walking down the street. He was sure they were trying to find a secluded area to apparate.
"Let's go."
He lead her back to the alley they had apparated into. He stopped at the end of it and she watched him in anticipation.
"I managed to place a trace on them. It is only temporary but we have to give them enough time to get home."
Her eyebrows rose and he got the distinct impression she was impressed. A trace was a highly unstable and tricky piece of magic especially when done covertly.
They stood together in the darkness, the noise from the street echoing hollowly around them. He noticed Bellatrix shivering again in the coldness so with a heavy sigh he flicked his wand and magically warmed her dress.
"Thanks." She murmured it under her breath in gratitude.
As they waited in silence, he found himself staring at her. Not for the first time, he regretted her wasted potential. His thoughts drifted to the idea of what could have been if she had been pureblood. He considered he would have been able to twist her around to join him, of the things she could have achieved for him.
He could have moulded her. Turned her into the ideal warrior. With her skill and magical ability, she could have been a force to be reckoned with. She would have desired his companionship, worshipped him instead of the silent resentment that emanated from her. Such a waste.
At least these thoughts distracted him from her dress and how low the neckline was despite revealing nothing to him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It had been long enough.
"Come here." He held his arm out to her and she took it. He brushed his hand over the soft skin of her wrist which was entwined with his arm, allowing himself that small indulgence before they disapparated.