CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The little cottage the Death Eaters stayed at looked small and broken down on the outside. On the inside, however, it was large enough to house each one comfortably. It was still dusty and old from no one living in it for such a long period of time. Bellatrix managed to straighten out her and Rodolphus's room nicely without the help anyone. She dusted, swept, and even made the bed. She kept the door closed every time she was going to tidy just so she could protect her regal dignity.

One afternoon while Bellatrix was sweeping the floor magically, she accidentally swished her wand in the wrong direction, causing a leg of her bedside table to smash into splinters. She swore loudly at her mistake. Without any hesitation, the little witch that Bellatrix had observed nagging all of the house-mates came in, swinging the door nearly off of its hinges.

"Are you okay? I heard a crash and I just thought that maybe…" the witch spoke faster than Bellatrix could keep up.

She stared at the skinny little woman skeptically before coldly saying, "I have it under control. If I needed any of your assistance I would call for it. If you come into my room again uninvited, I will have to punish you." Each word she said was crisp and spoken with bitter lips.

The petite witch cringed a little and nodded apologetically like a school-age child. "I am sorry Mrs. Lestrange. I really should have knocked. I just wanted to see if you were hurt in any way."

"Get out of my bedroom." Bellatrix's hard expression did not change. Her stiff tone made the woman turn and leave without saying anything further—being afraid that Bellatrix would hex her into the next year.

A few hours later that day, Bellatrix made a beeline for the downstairs to greet her sister who was just coming in through the front doors.

"Bellatrix!" Narcissa Malfoy exclaimed embracing Bellatrix in a tight hug, "Oh, how good it is to see you once again!"

"And you, dear sister!" Bellatrix smiled, allowing the hug. She studied her sister; her long blonde hair was waist length. Her lips were forever pursed. Narcissa's face had grown slightly plump and her blue eyes could not get any more electric. It was strange, but she looked very similar to her husband, Lucius Malfoy. If they did not always have their son between their bodies, they would look like siblings. The only thing that made Bellatrix and Narcissa look like they were even halfway related was the strong facial features they shared.

"Lucius and I married while you were in the middle of your 1st year at Azkaban and I had Draco around the same time," Narcissa smiled as she spoke of her family, "Yes, I married nice and round. I was very disappointed that you could not come to my wedding, Bellatrix. You were missed greatly. Other than that, things around the Malfoy house have been pretty ho-hum. Nothing much there is to talk about." Her voice trailed off. Narcissa looked down at her apprehensive son. He seemed very bothered at being in a room filled with Death Eaters.

"You must be so proud," Bellatrix said placidly. She eyed Draco carefully down her nose.

"Yes, he is so bright and…" Narcissa began, smiling again.

"No, Narcissa, I mean that you have such a pure son whom is very keen and ready to grasp his life of serving the Dark Lord so young. Just like me," Bellatrix corrected calmly.

Narcissa stiffened, her smile faded and she looked at Draco and then to Bellatrix. "I don't know if he will stay…he could get seriously hurt, Bellatrix."

"What a fine boy. Don't you see?" Bellatrix pinched the boy's chin and lifted it so he was unwilling looking into her eyes, ignoring her sister's comments. She towered over Narcissa's son greatly.

He's pureblood, he's in Slytherin, and he is great at the Dark Arts. I could teach him myself! First I would teach him what he needs to know very well being a great servant of my lord—Occlumency and Legilimency! He reminds me of me! Only I, by my FOURTH year, was in the Death Eaters and already Master's favorite. I could tell. And this boy, he isn't even completely in the band! But he will suffice. What a—

"Bellatrix, I want to let him experience his teenage years free—"

"Narcissa! It won't be much longer! How old are you boy?" Bellatrix asked harshly, growing irritated with Narcissa's reluctance.

"Fifteen," Draco said dryly, looking at the floor.

"Look up when you speak to your aunt!" Bellatrix ordered.

Draco looked up and over Bellatrix's shoulders, determined not to make eye contact with the daunting and intimidating woman. "I'm fifteen. I'm in my fifth year at Hogwarts."

Bellatrix frowned. "You go to school with the Potter boy?"

"Yes."

"Look up!"

Draco looked again over his aunt's shoulders. "Yes I do." His lips curled into a slight sneer.

"Why are you giving me that look on your face?" Bellatrix's voice rised.

"What do you say we go and eat perhaps?" Narcissa interjected nervously.

Draco let his shoulders drop.

Bellatrix grumbled and strode from the room ahead of her nephew and sister towards the dining room.

She enthusiastically took a seat halfway down the table from her Master's chair because it was the closest she could get to him with all of the other seats filled.

"How nice of you all to come to me. Most of my servants are here…just a few are off. Nothing to worry about." Lord Voldemort said smoothly, observing the long table of people.

Bellatrix watched her Master with eager eyes as he stroked the green head of his pet snake, Nagini.

"I assume all of you received your letters? Some of you will not be attending my—get together—but I just wanted to inform you of plans so you would not get behind. Draco, your first meeting is it?" Voldemorts eyes flicked to the blonde-haired boy who shifted nervously in his seat.

"Yes." His voice was barely audible in the quiet room.

"I'm glad to have you here, boy." Voldemort's voice carried in the air for a few seconds before he continued again. "So the Death Eaters, a total of thirteen, that are going to show at the location given are..." Voldemort cleared his throat and looked at the parchment that rested on the table before him. His high, chilling voice listed off the names, "Bella, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Lucius, Mulciber, Dolohov, Nott, Jugson, Avery, Crabbe, Rookwood, Macnair, and Mulciber, each of you will be at our meeting position and you will retrieve my prophesy."

Rabastan raised his hand into the air.

Voldemort sighed wearily. "Yes Rabastan?"

"Well, I was just uh, wondering, what is a prophesy?" Rabastan gulped and looked at the rest of his fellow allies.

"It will look like a crystal ball. I will tell you what row and such later. Rabastan, don't hurt your brain thinking about it too hard."

Awkward uncomfortable laughter filled the silence. Rabastan scowled.

Nagini curled around the back of Voldemort's chair and up his left arm. Draco watched the snake with mild fascination.

"So get the prophesy for you and then what?" Bellatrix inquired, wondering what all she had to do to satisfy her Lord.

"You may not get the prophesy yourself. Potter must pick it up because it involves him and me. It would be impossible for me to get into the Ministry of Magic—well, it could be done, but I cannot do such a thing so soon. Anyways, I cannot get the prophesy, Potter must and you will retrieve it and bring it to me once you have completed the mission. You may not harm the prophesy or Potter in any way until it is in my hands. Does every one in this room seated before me understand?" Voldemort surveyed the dark room and looked into each servant's evil eyes.

"Of course I do, Master. I will not let you down!" Bellatrix cried, pounding her fists onto the table.

"Aye," Macnair agreed.

The rest of the Death Eaters nodded their reply.