A/N: Hey all! First of all, a GIANT apology for how overdue this update is-I won't bore you with excuses, but between college, exams, friends, job-hunting and a lot more time-consuming things, I found myself with very little time to update. BUT! My summer has begun, and with it, come lots of updates :)
Secondly, the AIW premiere (which feels like forever ago now!) was AMAZING! I was lucky enough to get Johnny and Tim's autographs, and I nearly died with excitement. BEST. FEELING. EVER. (Johnny is even more gorgeous in person) I really CANNOT recommend going to premieres enough!
Enough rambling from me though, so on with the story! It's quite a long update to apologise for my very long absence. Sincere thanks as always to those who reviewed, hope you enjoy!
October 28th, 1981.
"Surely your other toys aren't boring you already, dear Bellatrix?"
Tearing her eyes away from the hunched form of Severus Snape, Bellatrix shifts her focus upon her brother-in-law, who to his credit, manages to avoid flinching at the penetrative nature of her gaze.
"Quite the contrary Lucius," she drawls, "you bore me."
A slight frown creases her forehead as she turns her eye back to Severus, watching as he rises from the table to make his way to their Master's chambers; both unwilling and unable to ignore the strange niggling feeling in her gut.
"And you find Severus of interest? I wonder how Rodolphus would react to such news," Lucius says smoothly, a malicious glint in his grey eyes. "Where is your husband anyway? Tell me, Bellatrix, does he know of your aff-"
"I would suggest," Bellatrix hisses, "that you choose your next words carefully if you do not wish Draco to be the only child you produce."
Pressing her wand more firmly into his groin, she smirks slightly at the mangled noise Lucius makes in the back of his throat; fury and the merest hint of fear evident on his face.
Turning away from Lucius to watch Snape once more, Bellatrix scowls.
"Rodolphus is in France till tomorrow night on business for the Dark Lord. He intends to visit his parents before he returns and wishes me to join him," she replies flatly; her in-laws' expectations for a grandchild-sooner rather than later-had quickly become a source of great irritation.
"And Seve-"
"I don't trust him," she says coolly, twirling her wand through her fingers as she speaks, watching his retreating form.
"And I don't care that you vouched for him either," she remarks harshly, addressing Lucius once more.
"Bringing a spy into our ranks would hardly be the first serious error in judgement you've made lately, after all."
"Enlighten me of such errors, won't you?" Lucius asks tightly, narrowing his eyes as he glares at his sister-in-law.
"Alright then!" she spits, turning on him suddenly, her own eyes blazing in temper, "why in the name of Merlin would you tell Cissy I was duelling Aurors alone? Are you lacking the link between your mouth and brain?"
"Or is it simply entertaining for you to let my sister think me dead?" she continues with a snarl, ignoring the growing attention their conversation is gaining from their fellow Death Eaters.
"Are you utterly incapable of keeping quiet about our work for the Dark Lord?" she asks harshly, her sister's tears still fresh in her mind.
Acutely aware of the growing murmurs from the rest of those seated at the table, Lucius sets his jaw and simply arches an eyebrow, drawing upon the icy dignity of his father that he had long ago copied and perfected. He knows his sister-in-law well enough to know that being confronted by placidity merely serves to increase her agitation.
Indeed, for Bellatrix, such an undermining of her fury threatens to unleash a tempest upon the entire room, as she grinds her teeth in sheer frustration.
Lucius cannot help but feel entitled to deal Bellatrix a low blow. She's had it coming for such blatant arrogance over the years, he muses.
"This outburst of yours," he says calmly, "is precisely why many think female Death Eaters are more trouble than they're worth."
"Well said, old friend," laughs Igor Karkaroff, his yellowed teeth visible in a wide, malicious grin.
His resentment of Bellatrix is no secret, given her envied position at the right hand of the Dark Lord. Karkaroff is no fool, and though he may serve another, he ultimately serves himself first wherever possible.
Bellatrix despises him for it.
"I've always said, female Death Eaters are only good for one purpose," he leers, raking his eyes over her form suggestively, amid chuckles from a couple of the others.
"If my brother were here," Rabastan Lestrange interjects with an angry growl, "I'm quite certain you'd be half-dead by now, Karkaroff." Drawing his wand from his robes, he stands, "As it is, he's in France, but I assure you, I'm quite willing to shut your mouth on his behalf," he spits.
Karkaroff, for his part, merely leans back in his chair, the picture of relaxation.
"Such righteous anger," he chuckles, "surely you have heard the same rumours we have Lestrange? That Bellatrix here has discovered ways of finding favour we cannot?" he smirks, a trace of bitterness and resentment nevertheless present in his tone.
As the tension grows even thicker in the room, Lucius is almost beginning to regret having provoked such an attack of Bellatrix at all. After all, if she kills Karkaroff-which is growing increasingly more likely with each word he speaks-the source of her anger will lead back to Lucius himself. As he notices Bellatrix hands shaking with rage, he cannot help but feel the slightest hint of guilt, even in spite of her outburst at him.
He knows she's every bit as good a dueller (if not better) than her male counterparts in the room. He also knows that her anger with him was driven primarily by an instinctual desire to protect Narcissa-possibly the only trait he shares with his sister-in-law.
He's very much afraid of the whole situation becoming as uncontrollable as Bellatrix herself.
Barty Crouch, meanwhile, is watching the entire spectacle with something akin to both anger and glee. Anger because of Karkaroff's insinuations and the shame that he seeks to cause Barty's mentor, but also, because he cannot help but envy Bellatrix's close ties with the Dark Lord-though he has been fortunate enough to develop a (what he secretly regards as a sort of father-son) relationship with their Master the past few months, he is nevertheless slightly jealous at the thought of Bellatrix being the Dark Lord's closest confidante of all.
His glee, on the other hand, is inspired by the knowledge of what his mentor can, and probably will do to Karkaroff for disrespecting her-and so publicly at that. If his past lessons are anything to go by, Barty suspects that once Bellatrix's done with him, Karkaroff will not be saying anything any time soon.
He's very much looking forward to seeing Bellatrix's chosen method of punishment.
In fact, so caught up are the Death Eaters in this latest spat, that none notice Nagini has slithered into the room, tasting the air around her with her forked tongue.
"Lord Voldemort is much pleased with your work Severus," the Dark Lord says slowly, examining the potion vials carefully.
"You certainly have quite a remarkable gift for creating your own potions," he grins; somewhat impressed by the ability of the young man before him and the vast array of potions littering the table before him.
Such skill is certainly a valuable asset to his ranks, particularly given the originality of much of Severus' concoctions.
"My Lord is most gracious in his praise," Severus says smoothly, inclining his head even lower.
"And what of your spell work?" Voldemort asks languidly, returning to his seat. "I recall Lucius telling me of your innovations in that field as well?"
"I have, My Lord, made some advances," Severus nods slowly. "The Sectumse-"
An angry hiss from Nagini interrupts his words as she slithers into the room once more. Severus often wonders if she is like a spy for Voldemort, for he has noticed the snake's tendency to watch the other Death Eaters should Voldemort be otherwise occupied by private one-to-one discussions with his servants.
Barely managing to repress a shudder as the snake hisses again, Severus watches curiously as Voldemort inclines his head toward his pet, hissing his own responses. It doesn't take a Parselmouth to know that whatever Nagini is saying is agitating the Dark Lord greatly, as his scarlet eyes glow threateningly. Just what has inspired such anger is what Severus cannot discern from the conversation.
In truth, Voldemort can't quite decide what he's most irritated about.
"Such foolish arguments Nagini..." Voldemort continues slowly, "such weaknesses within the ranks..."
"And so ill-timed," the snake agrees, slithering up the chair to rest her head by Voldemort's ear. "Such tensions threaten the strength of the ranks, Master, but you must admit-"
"Admit what?" Voldemort asks dangerously, and Nagini feels his muscles tense beneath her.
"That Karkaroff's jealously is not unfounded," the snake hisses. "You are certainly more indulgent of Lestrange than the others."
"I see nothing wrong with rewarding Bellatrix for her successes," he says coolly, twirling his wand between his fingers.
"But you reward her differently than you do the others, Master," the snake hisses in response, "and therein lies their problem."
"And who is to say I do not reward myself with Bellatrix?" Voldemort snaps in frustration.
He resents having to analyse his relationship with Bellatrix and usually avoids doing so. While he has a certain fondness for the raven-haired witch, and certainly enjoys their couplings greatly, he cannot afford to be seen as weakened by his involvement with her. If the others have come to regard her as less than a servant, then their view of him might equally shift, he thinks.
As though she has read his thoughts, Nagini gives an angry hiss.
"Do not be so paranoid, Master-Their view of you will not change! They condemn Lestrange for such rumours rather than you. They see her as your favourite, and because of her sex, they attempt to make this role a source of shame for her."
"Then what do you advise I do now?" Voldemort asks, curiosity piqued by the insightful nature of his pet.
"Let Karkaroff see Lestrange's power for himself," Nagini responds after a moment, as Voldemort gives a wry chuckle.
Settling herself more comfortably around her Master's shoulders as he stands, Nagini speaks again, and Severus, who is still watching quietly, swears for a moment that the snake almost smiles.
"And enjoy the show."
"If you consider yourself so superior, Igor," Bellatrix snarls, "then why not prove it in a duel?"
She knows she cannot kill the spineless being before her without facing a severe punishment, but Bellatrix has absolutely no intention of letting him mock her without facing some consequences. In fact, she's rather proud of herself for not having killed Karkaroff already.
"Why don't you show everyone here," she says with dangerous enthusiasm, "just how powerful a man you are, hmm?"
Shifting slightly in his seat, Karkaroff gives an uneasy chuckle.
"And risk injuring the Dark Lord's favourite? I am no fool, Bellatrix."
She can smell his fear a mile off. It's almost intoxicating.
Gesturing around to the rest of the listening Death Eaters she continues mockingly, "why the concern, Igor? You were so sure just a moment ago that I couldn't possibly have found favour with the Dark Lord for my duelling ability!"
Eyeing his weak chin with distaste, she smirks as she sees him swallow a lump in his throat.
"Unless...is poor ickle Igor afraid of the big bad Bellatrix, a mere woman?" she taunts, revelling in the chuckles that spread throughout the table.
She points her wand toward Karkaroff, her smile that of a shark.
Barty almost feels childlike in his excitement. He can hardly resist the urge to clap excitedly.
"Duel me, coward," Bellatrix hisses challengingly, "and we'll see who is the weaker of us two."
Aware of the dubious looks he is receiving, Karkaroff draws his wand, gripping its handle tightly. Rising to his feet, Karkaroff moves to the other side of the table to stand opposite Bellatrix, who falls into a duelling position with familiar ease.
"Aren't you going to bow, Lestrange?" he sneers, baring his teeth in temper.
"I bow only to the Dark Lord," Bellatrix responds imperiously, true passion ringing in her declaration.
With a low growl, Karkaroff copies her position, raising his wand high above his head.
"Unforgivables?" he inquires, keeping a watchful eye on Bellatrix's wand.
A burst of laughter bursts forth from Barty Crouch, and half distracted, Karkaroff turns back just in time to see a feverish glow ignite Bellatrix's countenance.
"Like you even had to ask?" she coos, even as she sends a powerful Crucio toward him.
Though Karkaroff puts up a valiant enough effort, there is no denying that he is by far the weaker opponent. It takes merely several minutes for Bellatrix to incapacitate him, and Voldemort, particularly familiar with her ability, can tell that she was simply toying with Karkaroff for much of that time in order to humiliate the man further.
"You see Master?" Nagini hisses, "it was best to let Lestrange silence her own critics."
Barely stifling his amusement as Bellatrix imperiuses Karkaroff to bow down to her, Voldemort nods in agreement, watching as the rest of the Death Eaters (some more enthusiastically than others) congratulate Bellatrix and jeer at Igor.
Still, he cannot let his Death Eaters have their own sport all night, and stepping out from the shadows, Voldemort makes his way to the head of the table, clearing his throat as he does so.
As one, the Death Eaters fall silent, and return to their seats; Igor flushed red in humiliation, Bellatrix unable to conceal a grin of pride.
"My friends," Voldemort announces, spreading his arms widely as if to embrace them all, "we are but three days away from bringing the Wizarding World completely under our control."
Excited claps and laughs break out as Voldemort grins evilly, Nagini hissing her displeasure at the volume of the cries of jubilation.
"And yet," Voldemort continues quietly, his voice cool, "some of my Death Eaters find themselves dissatisfied with their position in the ranks...jealous of the ability of others it seems..."
Turning his gaze upon Karkaroff, he arches an almost non-existent eyebrow.
"Do you still question Bellatrix's presence among my servants, Igor? Do you question Lord Voldemort's choices?"
"No, My Lord," Karkaroff replies hurriedly, avoiding looking at Bellatrix. "Bellatr-"
"Beat you with ease in a fair duel," responds Voldemort languidly.
"If you wish to be of higher position in the ranks, Igor, perhaps you should focus more upon your own missions and ability, and less upon others, hmm?"
"Yes, My Lord," Karkaroff replies quietly, turning his gaze toward his lap.
"Now then, Rookwood," Voldemort says, shifting his attention to another further down the table, "what news of the Ministry?"
Before she can disapparate, Lucius takes hold of Bellatrix's elbow, releasing his hold as she turns; wand drawn to hex whoever had grabbed her.
"More comments to make Lucius?" she asks caustically, a dark eyebrow raised challengingly.
Lifting his hands in mock surrender, Lucius merely smirks, the memory of Karkaroff's humiliation still amusing to him.
"Hardly, Bellatrix," he says silkily, fastening his cloak as he speaks.
"I merely sought to invite you for lunch tomorrow-Narcissa mentioned not having seen you for a while, and with Rodolphus in France till tomorrow night, I thought you might like to spend some time with her, and Draco, as well."
"A baby hardly makes for an entertaining conversationalist," Bellatrix sneers, tossing her curls over her shoulder.
Ignoring the jibe against his son, Lucius sets his jaw determinedly, and stays silent. Narcissa actually mentioned nothing about inviting her sister for lunch, but Lucius feels that after his blunder the other night, it is the least he can do for his wife. It is as gracious as he can possibly be to his infuriatingly wild sister-in-law.
"Fine," Bellatrix drawls after a moment, "I'll come. Even a crying infant is better company than putting up with Rodolphus' mother for an evening."
Forcing a smile, Lucius gives a tight nod.
"Narcissa will be pleased, you two must have a lot to discuss," he offers, slightly unnerved by the glint that appears in Bellatrix's eye at his words.
"Oh yes," Bellatrix smirks, "we discuss quite a bit when we see each other."
The knowing look in her eyes is making him particularly uncomfortable, though he'll be damned if he lets Bellatrix know that. Still, he feels horribly naked under her obsidian gaze.
As she prepares to disapparate, she throws him a satisfied smile over her shoulder and winks brazenly.
"A 'damn good dueller' am I, Lucius?"
Her gleeful laughter echoes her departure as Lucius wonders if there's anything Narcissa doesn't share with her older sister.
A/N: Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated :)