Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, not even Kiri Sterling ;)
Virgilia and Horatius Malfoy's estate was glittering with fairies and white rose garlands encircling the waists of angels carved out of ice when she and her family arrived for the Solstice banquet. It was grandly decorated, as befit a family of the Malfoys' status, but strangely foreign. Where the Blacks favoured a darker, heavier elegance, the Malfoys seemed to gravitate towards icy, glittering splendour. Bellatrix made her greetings to the important families, and followed her father and mother into the ballroom.
The foods-- light, airy and insubstantial hor d'oeuvres of countless types, lay on gleaming crystal platters on a long table at one end of the ballroom, as did silver trays holding delicate champagne flutes. Bellatrix noted already, much to her disdain, that Tiberius Goyle and Bruno Crabbe, both two years under her in Slytherin House, seemed to have affixed themselves to that table permanently. It was fortunate for them that their family inheritance was considerable enough for others to overlook their atrocious manners to an extent.
Next to her, wearing ice-blue satin, Narcissa seemed to notice the same and gave a delicate sniff. "Do you think that the food will be EDIBLE once they're done ravaging it?"
"If it isn't, you could always ask Lucius to have the House Elves bring you a snack," Bellatrix smirked.
Narcissa raised her eyebrows in a patent expression of innocence. "It would be terribly rude and offensive for me to ask Mr. Malfoy such a personal favour."
"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Bellatrix drawled. "Your robes even match." The heir of the Malfoy family wore navy blue velvet, his long blond hair tied back in a neat queue. Narcissa stole a glance at the young man, and smiled when he caught her gaze.
Andromeda, who had been stopped on her way into the ballroom by Augustus Rookwood, made her way over to them and broke their banter. The middle sister's lips were set in a grim line, and she was trying to wipe her hands discreetly on her rustling green skirts. "Slimy git," she muttered under her breath. "He's at least ten years my senior."
Narcissa patted her hand sympathetically, carefully avoiding any spot where Rookwood might have kissed, and Bellatrix gave Andromeda a bracing smile. "At least he's a pureblood."
Andromeda nodded distractedly, and Bellatrix chalked her sister's inattention to lingering irritation at Rookwood. And then, rather suddenly and rather close by, she heard the honeyed voice of Kiri Sterling. "Rodolphus, how lovely to see you again... it's been ages since our paths have crossed."
"Despicable," Bellatrix's lip curled upward, and she seemed oblivious to Andromeda and Narcissa's curious looks. "The little tart is flirting with her sister's former paramour."
Kiri Sterling had pure bloodlines, a sizeable inheritance, and the sort of beauty that was rather fashionable these days, with snow-pale skin and red-gold hair that flowed over her slim shoulders. Bellatrix was unacquainted with her-- she'd been in Ravenclaw and basically unworthy of her notice, but it was galling to see these insipid wenches throwing themselves at HIM, of all people...
"I think I need to go outside for some fresh air," she heard her own voice, clipped and cold as the Malfoys' ice sculptures. "I shall return in a while."
She stepped away from her sisters, face blank, and slipped in between couples and groups of people, her steps measured so as to not draw attention to herself, and then she was at the French doors that led to the expansive, fairy-lit gardens. With the music and conversation that filled the ballroom, most did not notice the slight creak of the doors opening and closing.
Most.
Bellatrix was just entering the rose gardens, warmed with spells and decorated with more fairies, when she heard footsteps behind her. And then a voice-- velvety, mocking baritone. "The boys in the ballroom are languishing over the lack of your company, Bellatrix."
Her spine stiffened, and she determinedly strode forward, refusing to look at him. "It's Miss Black to you, Mr. Lestrange," she replied frigidly. "And I'm sure that the GIRLS in the ballroom are devastated far more over the lack of YOUR company than the boys are over the lack of mine."
"So flattered to hear such a high opinion of myself coming from you." She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I do believe that Bellatrix Black would not be one to give commendation lightly."
"I did NOT just commend you," she snapped, unable to stop herself from throwing a glare over her shoulder at him. He was only several feet away, and she quickened her footsteps.
"Such a little wildcat, Bella," his voice was right by her ear now, warm breath tickling her neck, and an instant later, she felt a large, strong hand closing around her wrist. "You're a flame amongst icicles here... it's not truly your scene, is it?"
"You've no right to judge me or presume to know a damned thing about me, Mr. Lestrange," she struggled to free her wrist, her eyes flashing dangerously. "And you would do best to behave properly around me-- I'm not one of your whores."
"Indeed you're not," he nodded placidly. "Glad to see that we're in agreement upon this... though what's the fun of 'proper behaviour'? Watching an opera from the balcony is so much less interesting."
She bristled at the reminder of that one evening-- the decorous, fluttery little blonde that was his companion-- the sister of said blonde who'd been cooing at him in the ballroom. "Don't compare me to HER."
"There's no comparison," he said decidedly, his face suddenly very close to hers, and then before she could pull away with a scathing remark, his lips were pressed against hers, hands banding around her wrists as she struggled, and when she gasped in outrage, he deepened the kiss, tasting of champagne and dark chocolate and mint. Dizzy from breathlessness, she stopped struggling and leaned against him, hating herself for needing his support, but forgetting it as soon as his hands slid from her wrists to her waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips strayed from her mouth towards her jaw.
Faintly in the distance, even as she tried to bite back a moan when his tongue touched her pulse point, she heard Narcissa's voice calling her name, and then Rodolphus was pushing her back-- holding her against his body as he strode farther away from the house and into the cover of some tall, pruned bushes.
He came to a stop when they were out of view of the house, and pulled away to look at her, smirking as he took in the mussed hair and swollen lips, the hand clenched around his own cravat. "They won't find us here," he said matter-of-factly.
She glanced around them, and her eyes widened in alarm before narrowing once again in rage. "No doubt," she hissed angrily, pointing at the even green walls all around them with a shaking finger. "We're in a HEDGE MAZE!"
"So it seems," he remarked with infuriating complacency, glancing at the flawlessly pruned hedges. One corner of his lip curved upwards. "Enchanted icicles and more fairies. I see that Mrs. Malfoy has a definite theme to her decorations."
"Who in the world bloody cares about Mrs. Malfoy's taste in decorations?!" Bella demanded, her voice rising in pitch. "I am stuck in a sodding HEDGE MAZE with YOU, of all the people in the world!" She did have her wand, true, but she could hardly hike up her skirts to unfasten it from her garter belt in front of HIM! And, of course, wantonly destroying the Malfoys' garden would not go very well with anyone present. It would be very poor form for a Black.
"You know," he drawled, one hand resting against a green wall, his eyes glittering with amusement, "the more you panic, my love, the less we're likely to escape from this maze."
"I am NOT your love!" she snarled. "How DARE you?!"
He took another step further into the maze, and she followed, her eyes still flashing. "I HATE you, Mr. Lestrange," she bit out. "And don't call me 'love' again!"
"You hate me, hmm?" he asked blandly. "You barely know me, and yet you go through so much trouble to form such a deep feeling for me."
"STOP twisting everything I say!"
"Stop incriminating yourself, Bella," he retorted languidly, one hand still against the wall of the hedge maze as they continued down their path.
The banter-- amused on his part and irate on hers, continued for several more minutes as they continued down their path. Bellatrix reassured herself that she was following him because... well, if she were to get lost in a bloody hedge maze, it would be better to blame HIM afterwards than to be found alone Merlin knew when. It WAS his fault for yanking her in, anyway.
"You know, Bella," he remarked in a low, mellow voice, his eyes tinged with challenge, "The fellows you left in the ballroom would worship you-- given the chance."
"And why should I 'give them the chance'?" she queried haughtily. "Unwashed cretins-- the lot of them."
"Good to know that you're still mine." Her eyes widened at his impertinent declaration, and he took a step towards her, dark eyes intense as they gazed into her face. "You've always been mine, Bella. You always will be."
The hand she raised to claw at his face, nails outstretched like talons, was caught in his, and within the space of two seconds, she was in his arms again, kissing him back somewhat against her will, and her blood was on fire from the searing heat of his lips and what she wasn't quite sure was really hatred, pooling in her stomach and roaring through her veins. NO one dared to take liberties with Bellatrix Black.
Not quite no one.
And when he released her hand and she pulled savagely at his hair, a few of the silky strands coming loose in between her clenched fingers, he didn't pull away from the pain or her anger, and deepened his kiss, his lips almost bruising hers as one hand clenched around her waist. Almost-pain and pleasure and passion-- and she couldn't stop or move away.
When they broke apart for air this time, she stumbled, leaning back to rest against the hedge-- and found nothing but air. He caught her before she could fall, and gazed about them with a smile.
"Well then," he remarked, raising his hand from her waist to her hair, smoothing the ebony locks down her back and around her face, "It seems as though we've found out way out of the maze after all."
Bellatrix stood transfixed, her eyes belatedly noticing that they were once again surrounded by roses, the house in view several hundred yards away. She stiffened when his fingertip traced a leisurely path across her kiss-reddened lips, and he gave her a mocking half-bow. "Shall I escort you back into the ballroom, Miss Black?"
"You remembered my name," she managed to say bemusedly, inwardly horrified at the blunt, guileless statement.
"Bellatrix Black-- a woman warrior," his voice was a caress as he took her arm and started walking at a sedate pace towards the house. "I do believe we are acquainted."