21 December 1970
Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire
The shimmering snowflakes that cascaded from the beamed ceiling of the ballroom in Malfoy Manor glittered in the silvery glow before fading into oblivion. The room had been bedecked with white trees, illuminated and decorated with chrome baubles. Tonight was a date of great import for the Sacred Twenty-Eight - it was the winter solstice, the time when Purebloods from the most renowned families gathered to celebrate the season as they had done for a thousand years.
Bellatrix Black, who had graduated Hogwarts in June and had spent the last several months sulking at Black House in London, stood dressed just like the other young witches who would be candidates for the Winter Queen, the greatest honour to be bestowed upon a young woman of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. She wore flowing white robes bound around her waist with a thick silver belt, her usually-wild curls tamed into a chignon at the base of her neck. Around her head was a wreath of holly, and in her right hand, she carried a lantern with a magical silvery light floating within.
"Hello, Bellatrix," said a voice, and Bellatrix turned to see tall, handsome Rodolphus Lestrange before her. He was clad in black wool and brocade, his sandy blond hair neatly combed and his beard trimmed close to his angular jaw. He was twenty-three, but Bellatrix had had quite a crush on him when he'd been an older student at Hogwarts. He worked for the Ministry now, she knew, in the Department of Records. He was a low-level clerk in the Office of Marriages, Births, and Deaths, but she knew he was aspirational and would work hard to gain a more prestigious position. His brother, Rabastan, was a few years older than Rodolphus, and though Bellatrix had only met him a few times in passing, he was just as handsome and charming as his younger brother.
"Rodolphus," Bellatrix said softly, instinctively bringing her left hand to pat at her holly wreath and ensure it was straight upon her head. "Happy Solstice."
"And to you," he purred back, bowing his head. His eyes twinkled a bit then, and he said quietly, "You know, of all the witches eligible for Winter Queen, I think the title suits you best."
She laughed a little at that. She'd earned quite a reputation as a troublemaker at Hogwarts. She'd been caught sneaking into the kitchens at night, she'd shoved a Ravenclaw girl with a sharp tongue, and she'd rather deliberately disobeyed Slughorn's instructions on how not to turn her beautification gel into a burn-inducing ointment. She was Trouble. Everyone knew it. But apparently Rodolphus found Bellatrix's reputation to be less than problematic. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and said,
"It's just a silly little game we all play each winter, isn't it? The chanting and the incense and everything? It's all just a ritual."
"Ritual is very important in preserving the integrity of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," said Rodolphus rather firmly. Bellatrix nodded her assent, and then Rodolphus pointed behind her. "Have you met Mr Riddle? Or, as he prefers to call himself, Lord Voldemort? My father and yours were friends with him back in their school days. Rumour has it that he spent years on the Continent learning all sorts of the most mysterious magical secrets. But he's returned, and he and my father have been communicating quite regularly."
"Riddle?" Bellatrix turned over her shoulder to where Rodolphus was pointing. His father, Rudy, was standing in conversation with a handsome middle-aged wizard who had come donning the obligatory black robes wizards wore for this occasion. They were both sipping from cups of mulled wine, and Bellatrix looked back at Rodolphus in confusion. "Riddle is hardly a name of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
"He's a Gaunt on his mother's side," Rodolphus said smoothly. "My father told me that he grew up in… unfortunate circumstances. His mother died in childbirth, and he was raised in a Muggle orphanage. But he's got some of the most hallowed blood of wizardry running through his veins from his mother. He is the last of the Gaunts."
"So Mr Malfoy invited him?" Bellatrix asked, and Rodolphus nodded.
"Abraxas is good friends with the man. He recognises that he's got sacred blood just like the rest of us. I think it would do you well to meet him, Bellatrix. A witch with your proclivity to… make waves… might like what he has to say."
"All right, then." Bellatrix smirked and let Rodolphus lead her over to the conversation between Rudy Lestrange and Lord Voldemort. The two wizards stopped talking and glanced over as Rodolphus and Bellatrix approached, and Rodolphus bowed his head.
"Sir. May I introduce you to Cygnus Black's daughter, Bellatrix?"
"How do you do?" Bellatrix said politely, and the handsome wizard's dark eyes flashed. He nodded crisply.
"Miss Black. I've heard much about you."
"Nothing too good, I hope," she teased, and he chuckled a little, shaking his head.
"I've heard that you enjoy giving Albus Dumbledore headaches."
"Well, that's a noble endeavour, isn't it?" laughed Rudy Lestrange, and Voldemort nodded at Bellatrix, sipping from his mulled wine.
"Indeed it is. Miss Black, may I fetch you a drink?"
"Oh. Erm… I can get it myself. Thank you," Bellatrix felt a little awkward then, clutching her silver-lit lantern more tightly than ever.
"I'd like to speak to you, if I may," Voldemort said softly then, and Bellatrix watched Rudy and Rodolphus Lestrange flash one another knowing glances. They bowed their heads and murmured farewells, and then they scurried off. Bellatrix was left alone with Tom Riddle - with Lord Voldemort - and as she stared up into his eyes, he said in a quiet but steady voice,
"Your father has joined my cause. He brags, somewhat incessantly, about his ruthless and headstrong eldest daughter. I wonder, Miss Black, if he is exaggerating. Is it true that you lit a Hogwarts painting on fire?"
"The portrait had been taunting me every time I walked past her for a week," Bellatrix snarled defensively. "I warned her. She didn't listen. So, yes, I burned the portrait, and I watched with glee as the canvas blackened and curled."
Half of Voldemort's mouth curled up, and he nodded. "And you earned yourself… four weeks' detention and fifty lost House points? Is that right?"
"It was well worth it." Bellatrix tipped up her chin. "That damned painting got smart with me; she needed to be destroyed. I gladly gathered doxy droppings for weeks and endured the anger of my fellow Slytherins about the lost points. At least I'd ruined that stupid portrait."
Now Voldemort looked quite serious. He sipped from his mulled wine and glanced around the ball room. He asked Bellatrix,
"Why have you submitted yourself for Winter Queen?"
"I didn't," she insisted. "My mother submitted all three of us. My sisters, Andromeda and Narcissa, and myself. She just wants to be the mother of a Queen."
"She was Winter Queen in her own right," Voldemort noted, "though I did not attend the year she won."
Bellatrix was quiet at that. She knew why he wouldn't have been at this fete as a teenager. He would have been in his Muggle orphanage over the Christmas holidays.
"You think less of me because I come from humble origins," Voldemort guessed, but Bellatrix shook her head firmly and insisted,
"I'm made to understand that you are spearheading a movement to prioritise blood purity and to cleanse wizarding society."
"That's correct," he said, and he reached up to drag his fingers through his dark, slightly greying waves. "How do you feel about such a movement materialising, Miss Black?"
She considered her answer, and then she said, "I should like to be a part of such a thing."
"Really?" Voldemort cocked an eyebrow, but then the Amplified voice of Abraxas Malfoy rang through the ballroom.
"Friends! Dearest friends," he called. "I ask that we gather in the centre of the room for the selection of the Winter Queen. All candidates for Queen, form a circle, and others gather behind them."
"That's my cue," Bellatrix said in a shy voice, holding up her lantern a little. She reached up to adjust her holly wreath and said, "Wish me luck, sir."
"You make your own luck, Miss Black," Voldemort replied, "though I shall cheer silently for your triumph. It was an honour to make your acquaintance at long last."
He bowed his head, and Bellatrix felt her cheeks go hot. She gulped and whispered,
"Goodbye, then." She turned and started to walk to the centre of the ball room, glancing over her shoulder to see that Voldemort was refilling his cup of mulled wine. She squeeze through the crowd into the circle being formed by all the young, unmarried teenaged girls of Sacred Twenty-Eight heritage, moving to stand in between her little sister Narcissa and a roommate from Slytherin, Aldreda Mulciber. Aldreda grinned at Bellatrix and bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet.
"Oh, isn't it exciting?" she prompted, but Bellatrix just rolled her eyes and insisted,
"I'm only here because my mother made me -"
"Attention, please!" Abraxas Malfoy's voice chimed out again. Everyone went silent, and suddenly Bellatrix caught the eye of Lord Voldemort, standing in the crowd opposite her. He took a sip from his cup and stared right at her, and her cheeks went hot again like they'd done when she'd been speaking to him. She gulped and glanced to Narcissa, flashing her sister a smile.
"Solstice candles, burning bright," incanted the Amplified voice of Abraxas Malfoy, and all those gathered murmured in reply,
"Inspire us with thy Sacred Light. Solstice Circle, Yuletide Right, Grant us Peace this Longest Night."
There were bells chiming then, enchanted by magic to have been hung above the crowd. A deep, resonant bell chimed, accompanied by higher-pitched bells, and then everyone began to chant,
"On darkest wings, hence winter cometh. Brought forth by wind and ice and deepest night. Wash over us, O Winter, and bathe us in thine arms. We welcome winter; we welcome Yule."
The bells kept chiming, and then Bellatrix could smell the distinct aroma of incense burning. She glanced around the circle of maidens, all clad in white robes and holding silvery lanterns. Through the crowd, four elderly witches emerged, dressed in rough grey woolen robes. The crones swung silver censers and hummed quietly. They made their way to the centre of the circle, and everyone seemed to freeze up, tense and anxious. Bellatrix shut her eyes and breathed in the scent of the incense, the south of the bells overhead, and then her eyes sprang open, for ancient Amadea Malfoy, Abraxas' grandmother, had called out two words.
"Bellatrix Black."
She glanced around frantically, trying to calibrate the fact that she had just been summoned by the crones. Finally, she met the clouded eyes of Amadea Malfoy, who beckoned with a shaky, spindly finger and mumbled,
"Come, girl."
Bellatrix sucked in air hard and instinctively found Voldemort's eyes again. He looked very interested now, tipping his head to the side and seeming to study her. She gulped and stepped forward, and the crones encircled her, waving their censers and bathing Bellatrix in smoke. Suddenly her lantern grew brighter than ever, and the bells pealed insistently from above.
People began to applaud then, though Bellatrix could read the disappointment on the faces of the other girls in the circle. She turned around until she saw her mother Druella, who was grinning and swiping away a tear from under her eye.
Another older woman pushed through the crowd then, coming into the centre with a candelabra. She gave Bellatrix a nearly toothless smile and croaked,
"Use your wand and light the candles, my dear."
Bellatrix cleared her throat and reached into her white robes, pulling out her strangely bent wand. She aimed it at the candelabra and nonverbally incanted Fire-Making spells, whispering inside her mind, Incendio. Incendio. Once all five candles were lit, she felt weight upon her head, and she reached up to feel cold metal where her holly wreath had been. It was the ancient crown of the Winter Queen, she knew, a silver creation with countless inlaid diamonds and sapphires. She brushed her fingers over the cool metal as more applause rang out.
"Now," called Abraxas Malfoy's voice, "We celebrate our Winter Queen, Bellatrix Black, and we celebrate the new season. Go forth, friends, and make yourselves merry!"
The crowd began to dissipate then, but Bellatrix was mobbed by a few girls she'd known at Hogwarts, her sisters, and her mother. She nodded as they all hurriedly congratulated her, and then she managed to slip away. She went over to the drinks table and ladled herself a glass cup of mulled wine, and then she heard Rodolphus Lestrange say from beside her,
"I knew it would be you."
She grinned a bit and looked up at him, the weight of the Queen's crown heavy upon her head. She glanced into a mirrored panel on the wall and marveled at the sight of the crown, glittering in the silver lights. She shook her head a bit and scoffed,
"I have no idea what the crones were thinking, choosing me of all people."
"Perhaps they thought that you embodied the spirit of winter more than the others," said another voice, and Bellatrix whirled so hard that she almost spilled wine on her white robes and the crown nearly toppled from her head. She took a shaking breath as Voldemort smirked down at her and said, "I agree with Mr Lestrange. I am unsurprised that you've been selected."
"Perhaps," Bellatrix said in a slightly teasing voice, "Setting portraits on fire loses one points when one is but a schoolgirl, but earns one clout when one is vying for the position of Winter Queen."
"Perhaps." Voldemort brushed his thumb over his lip and glanced behind Bellatrix. "Rodolphus. Your father tells me he is most interested in crafting a match between you and Zinnia Greengrass."
"Yes, sir." Rodolphus cleared his throat, and Bellatrix turned to look at him. He frowned a bit and shrugged. "Zinnia and I don't know one another very well, I'm afraid."
"Perhaps you might use this opportunity to go converse with her and get to know her better." Voldemort's voice was like silk, so smooth and confident, and Bellatrix shivered a little. Rodolphus' cheeks went a bit pink, but he bowed to Bellatrix and whispered softly,
"My Queen. Congratulations."
"Thanks, Rodolphus." Bellatrix watched him walk away, and as he did, Voldemort said from behind her,
"I wonder, Miss Black, if you would be amenable to a meeting."
She turned again, so quickly this time that Voldemort reached out and steadied her crown. She laughed self-consciously and admitted,
"I am ungainly with this thing on my head."
"Well, it's hardly as though you've had time to adjust to being royalty," Voldemort teased. Bellatrix grinned, tucking away the same curl that kept springing from her styled hair. She stared up at him and murmured,
"A meeting?"
"Yes." He nodded. "I have an office, here in Malfoy Manor. I am staying with the Malfoys, as their guest, until…"
He trailed off then, but he didn't need to finish. Bellatrix nodded. Everyone here was wealthy; the blood traitors like the Weasleys who lived in poverty wouldn't have even been welcome at an event like this. This was a ballroom full of old money, and Lord Voldemort was a Half-Blood who had been raised in a Muggle Orphanage. He may have been the last of the Gaunts, but that did not mean he had a single Knut to his name. He was staying with the Malfoys so that he could reside in comfortable accommodations whilst he built his movement. She didn't need him to say it.
"What will we discuss in this meeting, sir?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort pinched his lips.
"Your future," he said. "I am made to understand that you have not yet sought out employment."
"My parents have not yet allowed it." She tipped her head. "Anyway, I do not exactly have aspirations of being a mid-level Ministry employee."
"Do you have aspirations of working with the goblins at Gringotts, as your father does?" Voldemort raised a brow. "Or of staying home with a House-Elf to do everything for you, as your mother does?"
"No," Bellatrix admitted, sipping her wine. Voldemort took a step closer and said in a voice that sent a chill up Bellatrix's spine,
"Tell me what you aspire to do, Miss Black."
"Well," she said somewhat breathlessly, "I did like making trouble at Hogwarts."
He smirked and nodded. "And if there were other ways for you to… make trouble?"
"I wouldn't turn down the opportunity to misbehave." She sipped again and knew she sounded scandalous. Her mother would have slapped her across the cheek if she'd heard her right now. She didn't care.
Voldemort shut his eyes and nodded. "Tomorrow. Two in the afternoon, here at the Manor. The House-Elf will show you to my office."
"Very well, sir." Bellatrix's stomach fluttered as she pressed, "Just what sort of trouble do you want me to get into?"
"That depends," he said carefully, his eyes flicking up and down her form. "Now go, Winter Queen. Your subjects want to ooh and ahh over the sapphires in your crown. Go mingle with the little people."
She curled up half her mouth and nodded. "It was very nice to meet you, sir. I'm glad Rodolphus saw fit to introduce us."
He stared into her eyes for a moment, then looked away and said somewhat stiffly, "As am I. Good evening, Miss Black. Congratulations on being chosen."
"Thank you," she said quietly. She turned to walk away, glancing back and seeing that his eyes were locked on her. She got swallowed up by conversation with a gaggle of girls who had lost out on becoming this year's Winter Queen, and the next time she looked back for him, Voldemort had gone.
Author's Note: Hello, readers. As many of you know, personal medical circumstances and graduate school have made it impossible for me to write fanfiction for the better part of a year. Fortunately, I have the summer off, so I'm going to try for a good full-length Bellamort story. :) I hope you enjoy. Please do review. Thanks very much.