"And now he tells me that Narcissa is wearing a diamond on her left hand!" Lucius snarled, throwing himself into the high back chair in his father's (now his) library and staring petulantly over the rain-soaked grounds of the estate.

The woman he was addressing, a tall, leggy brunette with deep-set dark eyes, placed the book she had been leafing through idly back on the shelf and looked at him. "Surely not," she said, placing her hands on her slender waist, "Even she wouldn't be such an idiot."

"Why not?" Lucius asked, turning to look at her accusingly, "Your other sister was."

"Careful, Lucius," Bellatrix Black, now Bellatrix Lestrange, warned him, "Stupid though Andromeda might be, she of course began life in a different position than Narcissa did."

"A different position?" Lucius frowned, "Explain, please."

"Well," Trixie sat on the arm of the plush chair and ran her fingers through Lucius' white-blonde hair, "beautiful girls have certain – advantages."

Lucius sat, transfixed, watching her hand slide down his shoulder, down his arm.

"But," Trixie finished, removing her arm and subsequently breaking the spell her it held over him, "Andromeda was never the loveliest of creatures. That mouse-brown hair – those buggy eyes – the black sheep of the family. She was never going to go very far. I'm surprised she even managed to catch a Muggle husband." She looked away, off into the distance, "And now she and that Muggle have a horrid little half-breed child."

Lucius shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, "A child?"

Trixie grimaced, "She had the nerve to name her Mudblood daughter Nymphadora after our grandmother. Imagine the shame." She laughed harshly, "Nymphadora Tonks. Simply rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"

"What do I care?" Lucius snarled, pushing himself to his feet, "Why should I give a damn about your sister and her half-breed brat? My fiancé is running around Hogsmeade with a half-breed WEREWOLF, and now she's wearing his ring!"

He seethed, "It's supposed to be MY ring that she's wearing. Mine."

"It will be," Trixie soothed, pouring off of the chair and adjusting the hem of her short forest green dress, "We just need to formulate a plan. Be patient."

"I don't think there's really TIME to be patient," Lucius hissed, "The half-breed graduates in four months. Rumor has it she's going to run off with him and leave me some sort of Dear John letter, and everyone will be mocking the name of Malfoy for the next five generations! I can't let that happen."

"Pull yourself together," Trixie snapped, "We'll think of something. I was always able to con Narcissa into giving me my way when we were little. And since when have you ever had to go down on your knees to beg for anything? Did you learn nothing from seven years in Slytherin house? It's not about aggression, Lucius, it's about brains. We will manage this."

Lucius looked at her hard, lean body and felt an unbidden surge of lust. He looked away.

"I know what you're thinking," Trixie Lestrange said in a low, come-hither tone. He looked back at her quickly. Her lips were curved in a knowing smile, "You forget that I am an extremely accomplished Occlumens."

Lucius looked away again, "You're married."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Trixie purred. She walked towards him, slowly, seductively, "Like you, Lucius, I know how to get what I want."

Lucius looked into her deep-set eyes, observed the way her long, shining mahogany hair brushed her shoulders as if it kissed them. She was getting under his skin. An image of bright sapphire blue eyes, of corn silk blonde hair, floated through his mind. His eyes hardened.

"What I want is Narcissa," he said coldly, "I doubt you know how to get her for me."

She leaned into him, so her eyes were level with his.

"Watch me," she said breathily.

Lucius tried to close his mind. I don't want her, he thought. I want Narcissa. Narcissa. Narcissa. No. Trixie –

He grabbed her hard around her neck and yanked her roughly to him, kissing her hard on the lips. Her lips were painted plum colored and oh dear God, they were as moist and soft as grapes. He had kissed Narcissa, often, on the cheek, and once in a while on her lips, but those kisses were meek, tentative, and modest. Trixie was wild, uninhibited, untamed. No, he did not love her, but there was passion for her that he never expected to feel.

Trixie pulled away, looked at him through her eyelashes, her mouth in a smirk. Lucius could still taste her kiss on his lips.

"Perfect," she said, "I know exactly what we're going to do."

"You do?" Lucius asked her uncertainly, embarrassed at what had just happened.

Trixie smiled knowingly, "We just have to bide our time until the Hogwarts graduation."

Lucius frowned, "Why so long?"

Trixie sauntered over to the bookshelves and began thumbing through the titles. "Because we're going to need a long time to prepare exactly what we need to pull this off."

"What we need?"

She nodded absently, pulling a worn book off one of the shelves and leafing through it, "These were all your father's books? He has a stunning collection concerning the properties of Dark potions."

"My father was an accomplished Potions master," Lucius replied, "He invented some complicated ones."

"Well, that's exactly what we're looking for," Trixie said, "At least in part."

Lucius walked over to her and tried to read over her shoulder. She pulled away, put the book back on the shelf, and picked up another, equally as worn and faded.

"I'll need a lock of Narcissa's hair," she said absently, "Here we go." She stopped on a page and pointed to it.

Lucius peered over her shoulder at it, then turned to her, eyes wide, finally understanding.

"Do you really think it will work?"

Trixie beamed at him, "Think? I KNOW it will work."

She tore a piece of paper loose from the front of the book and marked the page she was reading before she set it down on an end table.

"Now," she said, "I don't much like your idea of threatening Narcissa with killing the half-breed werewolf if she doesn't marry you. It's clumsy, ineffective. It lacks finesse."

Lucius flushed angrily, "And I suppose you have a better method of convincing her to stay with me?"

"Actually, I do," Trixie replied, looking at him levelly, "It's going to take me a while to research exactly how you're going to do it, though."

"Me?"

Trixie shot him a look, "If you want this to work, you're the only one who is going to be able to do it. I can convince her to submit to it, but I can't be the one who performs the spell."

"Spell?" Lucius looked alarmed, "You're going to put a spell on her to make her fall in love with me?"

Trixie glared at him, "You have no imagination, Lucius. For someone with so much ambition, you lack the patience and you lack the subtlety."

"You will not insult me in my own house!" Lucius shouted at her.

"Keep your voice down!" she ordered, "Your mother is here!"

"My mother," Lucius scoffed, "She hasn't been the same since Father died. Pay no attention to her."

"I really could care less about your mother," Trixie hissed back, "But a more scrupulous person would realize that your mother is still unaware of your current situation, and she could cause more harm than help if she were to discover it."

Lucius cast a wary eye at the door. Then he squared his shoulders, "What do you propose?"

She eyed him sideways, her long dark hair shading one eye like a curtain. Inside, she felt a delicious desire to laugh. Men were so easy, so predictable. At 21, she was still a young woman, not beautiful, but stunning in a way most women would never be. And she knew how to get what she wanted. Bellatrix had always known exactly what she wanted.

It had been difficult, marrying Rodolphus Lestrange, but she had done it. The choice had not been hers to make. She had resented her father for making the arrangements with the Lestranges when she was so young, but she was not so stupid as her sister Andromeda, who had thrown away a promising life with the Rosiers to marry scum like Ted Tonks, a Muggle.

It was only a few weeks after her wedding to Rodolphus that she began to realize that there was more to her husband than what met the eye. Rodolphus spent most of his time locked in his study, and from outside the door Bellatrix could hear muttered chanting, smell strange and exotic scents from bubbling potions. Something was going on behind the closed door – but what?

She had her answer only a month after their wedding. Unable to sleep one night, she had crept down the stairs and noticed the door to her husband's study open. There was a strange green light flickering from within. She walked to do the door and peered around it.

Rodolphus was standing in front of a bubbling cauldron, speaking to someone Trixie had never seen before. He was a tall man, with skin so pale it was nearly transparent, and slanted eyes with a red tint. He had thinning black hair on his scalp, but Trixie could see that he was not old – only in his forties, perhaps.

"You understand my predicament, then?" this stranger had rasped.

Rodolphus nodded.

"I need more followers. Strong ones," the stranger went on, "I need people with ambition. With strength. I need someone with close ties to the Ministry of Magic. Someone with money, with power. You need to get this person for me, and in return – when I make my rise to power – I will exalt you higher than the dreams of many men."

"I will do this, My Lord," Rodolphus had bowed his head.

"I need Lucius Malfoy."

Trixie had started at the sound of her sister's fiance's name.

So had Rodolphus.

"My Lord, I hardly know Lucius Malfoy," he stammered, "He is my sister-in-law's fiancé, but that is all I know of him."

"I do not want excuses," the stranger had muttered, "I need Lucius Malfoy. To prove your loyalty to me, you will obtain him."

Rodolphus had muttered something.

"If you will not help me," the stranger replied tartly, "then perhaps there is someone else who will – standing outside this very room."

He had raised one arm, and before Trixie could hide, the door she'd been hiding behind swung open. Rodolphus had jumped at the sight of her.

"Your wife, I presume," the stranger had hissed. "The honorable Mrs. Lestrange."

"Trixie," she had managed, quite overcome with his presence.

"Trixie," the stranger said, "your husband and I have been discussing the predicament I find myself in. He is unable to provide me with another ally to my cause. I wonder if you could be able to do it."

Trixie had walked into the room, only slightly hesitant of what she was getting herself into. "I heard you. I heard everything," she replied quickly, "Something about exaltation."

"Oh, Mrs. Lestrange," the stranger managed a cruel smile, "If you follow me, I will give you more than you can desire. Money, power, prestige – all that you dream of and more."

Trixie was struck with the uncomfortable sensation that this stranger was penetrating her mind, could see her innermost thoughts. She brushed her discomfort aside and said, "I can get him for you. He is my sister's fiancé. I can get Lucius Malfoy."

"Trixie, how?" Rodolphus whispered, but the stranger cut him off.

"As you can see, Mrs. Lestrange," he said contemptuously, "your husband is somewhat – hesitant – about his abilities to provide me with what I need. Are you sure you are up to the task?"

Trixie shot her husband a warning look, "Yes. I can do it."

The stranger smiled that same cruel smile, "Do so, and you will have the gratitude of Lord Voldemort," he replied.

"Trixie?"

She came back from her reverie to find Lucius staring at her.

"Do you honestly think it can be done?" he asked.

She smiled, "Lucius," she purred, "for the right price, anything can be done."