A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate it! I can't believe how quickly the year is coming to it's end. I am so excited to hear what you think of this chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-three and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-four soon!

July 1969

It took everything in his power not to claw and scratch at the dark ink that was now under his skin, festering with darker magic than he knew existed. Hermione had known that it existed, and had warned Rodolphus about the man that he'd known as Tom Riddle, but his father worshiped as Lord Voldemort.

And now Rodolphus wore the Dark Lord's Dark Mark.

He'd participated in the celebration of the summer solstice, to his father's delight. It was held at Alfred Nott's ancestral home, as he was one of the few purebloods who had the large stones necessary for the sacrifices. He watched as his father and his friends butchered the deer that they would all eat that night, and imagined describing the reasoning behind each act to Hermione. She would have found the whole thing fascinating.

When the sun finally went down, the massive bonfire was lit, and Rodolphus was filled with a terrible sort of ache. Just like the nights would grow longer each day, Rodolphus could sense that the darkness in his life would also grow with each passing day.

While he was at the ritual, he made a point to seek out Tom Riddle. It was clear that at one point he had been handsome, but there was something off about the way that he looked. His eyes seemed to appear almost red in some lights, and his skin had a waxy, sickly hue. The younger wizard wondered how he had enough appeal to get so many influential families to support him, especially because he seemed to come out of nowhere.

But then he started talking to the man, and he could see how easy it would be to get swept up. Riddle seemed to know exactly what you wanted and was willing to promise it to you...for a price. Unfortunately for Rodolphus, what he wanted most in the world was a muggleborn witch - something he was sure that this Dark Lord would never abide.

His discussion with the other wizard had not gone unnoticed. His father, with blood still staining his hands, had insisted that Rodolphus join him for a drink in his office once they returned to their home together. His father was pleased that he was moving on from his little dalliance, the way that he was supposed to as the heir to an ancient and noble house.

His father had been even more thrilled when Rodolphus asked about joining Riddle. That Rodolphus wanted to support the cause...the same way his father had.

The next morning, even though he was likely nursing a massive hangover, his father had left to begin making arrangements for Rodolphus to take the Dark Mark. Rabastan was hugely jealous of his older brother and vowed to do the same the minute that he was allowed to do so. Rodolphus felt sick to his stomach, wondering just what kind of future he'd just made for Rab.

There was barely anytime for him to reconsider what was likely the biggest decision of his life. His father went full steam ahead, frequently telling Rodolphus that he was making the right decision for their family. Also, his father promised that he would likely see his own friends from school making the same decision very soon.

His father had not prepared him for the pain that receiving the Dark Mark would involve, or the horrific things that he had to do first to receive it. Rodolphus tried to put the thoughts out of his mind, or he was sure that he would scream, sure to ruin the party that was being held for him as one of the Dark Lord's newest recruits. How could they even think of throwing a party after what he had just endured? He was still shaking and clammy, his stomach roiling in protest.

Then he looked over to Evan Rosier the Third - someone who'd been a few years ahead of him while at Hogwarts - who had taken the mark with him, and saw the way that he was lapping up all the attention, throwing back glass after glass of champagne.

Rodolphus wished he could just blend into the wall or better yet, return home, but he didn't trust himself to apparate just yet, and he was certain his father would have questions about his absence.

"I see that you've finally pulled your head out of your arse," a familiar voice said loudly, gaining his attention almost immediately. "Although you still have the stink of mudblood on you."

He watched dispassionately as Bellatrix slinked her way over to him, wearing stunning robes of shimmering dark gray. It seemed that she was trying to catch someone's eye tonight, and he was certain that it wasn't his. "What do you want, Bellatrix?" he asked, his voice still graveley from screaming.

"I just wanted to tell you that even though you've taken the Dark Mark, that doesn't mean that our marriage contract will be reinstated," she told him, sticking her nose up in the air. "And I am forever pleased with that. I suppose mudblood's do have some uses after all."

He rounded on her, his anger flaring suddenly. "Don't talk about something you know nothing about, Bellatrix," he snarled. "It's not as if I wanted to marry you, either, and I would never dream of asking my father to betroth me to you."

Bellatrix cackled, drawing some attention to the pair. "Oh, does ickle Roddy still have some feelings for the mudblood?" she teased in some sort of baby talk that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Well, I'm certain she wouldn't touch you with a broomstick now that you've become one of us. She always was a bit of a bleeding heart."

His eyes were drawn to the Dark Mark that stood out proudly from Bellatrix's pale skin, the snake constantly writhing in the skull. Unlike so many of the other followers at the party, the young witch made no move to hide her mark, wanting to show the whole world how devoted she was to the Dark Lord.

Then it clicked for him. "If we are speaking of unattainable lovers, Bella, you should know that the Dark Lord would never pick you," he said with a sneer, wanting to tear her down just as much as she had him. "He's been alone forty years now, what makes you think he would want a pathetic little girl like you? He's only interested in himself."

That seemed to touch a nerve with Bellatrix, and he could see the fury reflected in her eyes. "Because he's never had a witch as devoted as me. You will see, Rodolphus," she insisted, although he could see the cracks of insecurity beginning to form. "I will be the Dark Lord's woman and nothing you can say will change that."

Wanting to get the last word, Bellatrix turned and left him standing alone, before flouncing off to where the Dark Lord was standing.

Left with Bellatrix's words ringing in his head, Rodolphus couldn't even imagine what Hermione would think of him if she could see him now. He was certain that Bellatrix was right...that Hermione wouldn't even speak to him. It seemed as though he had fulfilled all the assumptions that she had made about him two years ago, when he was just trying to get her to talk to him. There was no forgiveness for him now.

Not left alone for long, his father came up to him. Pressing a firewhiskey into Rodolphus's hand, he was not able to contain his happiness that Rodolphus was now one of them. "I saw you talking to Bellatrix," he said with feigned nonchalance. "Cygnus had doubted your suitability when he learned about the girl, but now that you've taken steps to correct things, perhaps the betrothal could be revisited."

Rodolphus shook his head. "Not a chance. Bellatrix has her eyes on other men," he said, before indicating to where she stood, fawning over the Dark Lord. The man was lapping it up.

"Hm, Cygnus was worried about that as well," his father quipped. "But, I don't see that happening."

"Well, I don't want her either," Rodolphus said vehemently, needing to get his father to see that Bellatrix was a no go. Otherwise, all of this would be for naught if he ended up married to her in the end. "I'm of age now, and I won't consent to it." It was a trump card that he wasn't afraid to play.

"Understandable. I don't know what Cygnus was thinking, letting his daughter take the mark," Edmond commiserated, as if that was the problem. "A witch's place is in the home, with the children. It's a pity that the youngest one is already spoken for by the Malfoys."

Rodolphus didn't think much of Narcissa Black himself, seeing as she'd been all of thirteen the last time he'd seen her, but he could understand why she ticked all the boxes for his father. Narcissa was the most beautiful and agreeable of the three Black sisters, and it was clear that she wanted to be the perfect pureblood wife. There was no way that Cygnus would give up his crown jewel to a man who'd been with a muggleborn though.

"Maybe we could hold off on any betrothals for a while," he suggested, hoping that his father would see reason. "I've only just joined and...I don't want to make a mistake, picking the wrong witch."

"Maybe for a few months, but I intend to see you engaged by the winter solstice," his father revealed to him. "You are my heir, and it would please me to see you married and with a child of your own. It's important to continue the family line."

"Yes, but you have Rabastan as well. He can continue the family line once he is a bit older," Rodolphus argued. Wasn't that the whole point of having an heir and a spare? He didn't want to get married and bring a child into the world, just to ensure there was another generation of Lestranges. "I don't see what's so bad about waiting."

His father sighed. "You don't want to end up like Alfred, do you? His father didn't work hard enough to get him a match, and now he is all alone, with no brothers or sisters, either," Edmond said, staring across the way at his school friend and Rodolphus's boss. "And now, no family wants to promise their young daughter to him, not when they could find someone more appropriate to their age."

It was true that Rodolphus didn't want to be alone, but...he didn't want any witch who wasn't Hermione. "I suppose," he agreed.

"Just keep an open mind, and I will give you a bit of time to enjoy yourself," his father promised. "But we can't wait too long or people will begin to think something is wrong with you."

Rodolphus wondered if perhaps there was something wrong with him.

"What about Cassia Flint?" his father asked him, as he was about to make his leave.

That made Rodolphus laugh. "I mean...if you want Max to challenge me to a duel for daring to touch his little sister, sure," he said. "But I'd rather not marry my best friend's little sister," he insisted, thinking how odd that would be.

Not wanting to hear any more of the potential witches for him to marry, Rodolphus emptied his glass and told his father he was going to get another drink. The firewhiskey burned in his belly, but not enough to distract from his aching forearm, the wound still festering. It felt as though he would never be fully healed from the Dark Mark, and after seeing all the people at the party, celebrating the Dark Lord, he was beginning to believe it was true. Even after the magical ink had set into his skin, he was sure the dark magic would linger, infecting him for the rest of his life.