I love you because you are everything I should have been. Beautiful, sweet, endearing, and yet there is a wicked streak in you that rivals my own, and that's to be admired. I should feel threatened by you, should worry that you will steal in and take my glory, but you would never do that, not to me. When we were little girls I used to lie in bed with you, just as we are doing now, and I would watch you sleep. Even then you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen, but I never envied you. You reminded me of those angels in that book Grandmother used to have in her study. Pure light, like filtered gold streaming down on me from above, and then I realized you must be one of them. My guardian angel, Narcissa. . ."
Narcissa had tried to talk her out of going, at least not without her. They should meet the Dark Lord together, combine their forces and present a united front, but Bella simply said, "When your time is right, you shall meet the Dark Lord, 'Cissa, but my time is tonight."
Her older sister hadn't want to let her go, but when all was said and done, the dominance of Bella's willpower won out, and she promised Narcissa that nothing would happen that she couldn't handle. "I just don't feel right," Narcissa said, "sending you off to meet Lord Voldemort without me. I almost imagined it would be something we did together."
Bella shifted uncomfortably, "Don't say his name, 'Cissa. Show some respect for his power."
Narcissa smiled softly, "I forgot. I'm sorry."
She remembered thinking to herself that that reason was precisely why Narcissa wasn't ready to meet the Dark Lord. If Bella went into his service first, she could look out for her sister, show her the ropes and prepare her for what she might expect. Begrudgingly, when the car Lucius sent for Bella arrived, Narcissa let her go, and made her promise not to do anything foolish. "Now, 'Cissa," Bella began, stepping up into the car, "you now me. Have you ever known me to be foolish?"
Narcissa nodded, "All your life."
She pulled away from Black Mansion, watching her sister wave to her as though she were going away from her forever. Later in contemplation, Bella thought that in her own way, she had gone away forever, but only from herself. She glanced back one last time at her sister, dressed all in white, it unnerved her deeply just how angelic Narcissa appeared. Angelic, and yet so ominous.
"Not nervous, are you?" she looked over her shoulder at him, dressed all in black, save for the silver, serpent brooch that held his cloak together. It had emerald eyes, or where they rubies. Bella wasn't sure, because in different light, the outcome seemed to change, or maybe she was just seeing something that wasn't really there. Maybe she was a little nervous.
The thread of her crooked smile breached her lips, "Me?" she astounded. "Nervous? You must be mad, Malfoy."
Lucius was grinning, appreciative at best, but there was very little admiration for her in that smile. She could see it in his eyes. He was doing this for Narcissa, to get closer to her, make her happy, and because Bella loved her sister, she would forgive him the minor foible that was his love-lack for her. "I should have known that were there anyone bold enough to walk into their first meeting with the Dark Lord without fear, it would be you," he said. "It's one of your most redeeming qualities," he had noticed redeeming qualities in her? Her forgiveness was deepening. "You have an unfailing devotion to that which you believe in, and often walk willingly into the arms of what could very well be your own death. You are a true Slytherin, Bella."
"Indeed," she felt the pride of her house swell in her chest. "I am true to my house, through and through, but most of all, I'm true to myself."
"Of course," he opened the doors for her and stepped to the side to allow her through. "And as a fellow Slytherin, one would expect nothing less of you. Now, remember," he ducked in through the doorway casually, taking up step behind her, "do not call him by name. He is your lord, your master, etcetera, etcetera. Do not speak unless spoken to. Keep your head down and answer all of his questions honestly. He'll know if you're lying. He's a very powerful. . ."
"Legilimens, I know."
"Impressive," Lucius looked her over curiously, a distasteful sneer marring his handsome face. She couldn't tell if it was because she had interrupted him, or because she knew more about the Dark Lord than the average seventeen year old girl, perhaps even more than he did. "Very well," he said. "I can see you know exactly what you're doing."
"I do," she assured him with a curt nod.
"Then before we enter, I'd like to wish you luck." Extending a genuine hand to her, Bellatrix regarded it uncertainly. Was this just an extra coat of courtesy in hopes that she would put in not just one, but several good words with her sister? His fascination with Narcissa had begun only recently, Christmas Eve to be precise, but the power her sister exuded with acted quickly, like a poison in his blood, for he would do anything to be near her, to have her as his own. "For the first time in my life, I'm positive I've brought him someone that will not disappoint him."
She took his hand, and looked into his iced-gaze, "Thank you, Lucius. Your faith is flattering."
"As well as genuine," he assured her. "Now, shall we?"
Nodding, she stepped behind him and followed him into the Dark Lord's antechamber. Her stomach was in knots, not because she was afraid, but because she knew what incredible power the Dark Lord Voldemort possessed. She could only hope to have such power one day, and she sincerely believed that through Voldemort lie the path to her own, inevitable greatness. The antechamber was lit in eerie shades of gold and grey, the dull torch lamps lit at odd intervals so that the weak light they produced barely illuminated the circular room at all and cast shadows over every face therein. Bella's heart caught momentarily in her throat when she saw Rodolphus lingering outside a thick, oak door with intricate serpentine carvings, and instinct nearly drew her into the prominent certainty of Lucius Malfoy's shadow.
She'd been anticipating this moment since he'd left her that morning, nearly dying to see the look on his face when he realized she'd come to the Dark Lord's service with Lucius. Though they called each other friend, their rivalry was thick with bitter enmity, most brutally encouraged by Rodolphus competitive nature. Lucius had everything, Rodolphus wanted it, and since he couldn't have it, he acted as though he could, and did everything in his power to trip his friend up. Once Rodolphus realized she was there, his fury would be monumental, intensified tenfold by the fact that she was with Lucius.
Only, it wasn't Rodolphus who turned around to face her; it was Rabastan. The brothers were very similar in appearance, but unlike his older brother, Rabastan was lacking the merciless glint that came with murder to one's eyes. His face was only slightly longer, and still innocent, which made him all the more appealing to her. "Good evening, Rabastan," she glided forward, unveiling herself from Lucius' shadow, not caring if Rodolphus saw her now. "How has your holiday been?"
"Dreadfully boring," he took her hand, drew it devotedly to his lips and laid a gentle kiss just above the sharp mounds of her knuckles. "I don't think I've ever been this anxious to get back to school. How about yours?" As he stood back to full height, she caught sight of Rodolphus over his shoulder, just stepping out of the chamber, and reveled in the bitterness of his revelation.
"I've had better holidays," she said. "Though I must admit, Lucius here has been kind enough to have me to lunch, and now here we are. . . well, you know why we're here," she winked.
"Indeed," Rabastan returned the smile. At school, aside from Narcissa, Rabastan was one of the few people who knew her well enough to talk to her. He didn't fear her like so many others, and she preferred it that way. One honest friend was better than a dozen backstabbers digging through your bones to find a weakness. "Is this your first audience with the Dark Lord?"
"Yes."
"I've no doubt you'll be welcomed back, embraced with open arms. Why you're far more wicked than I. So much so, that I'm actually almost jealous of you," he laughed.
"You've no reason to be jealous," she assured him. "Your wickedness is a delight. Why I have no shame admitting I learned a thing or two from you." Rodolphus had stopped in mid-step, his glaring gaze firmly resting on her, searing into her, and even though she ignored him, her senses took it in, and relayed his malcontent back on her. She was pleased with his reaction, which carried over to Lucius, who barely paid the other man a moment's notice before slipping in beside her and urging her to come with him. "We'll catch up soon, Rabastan," she promised before stepping away.
They passed by Rodolphus, her righteous triumph bubbling joyfully inside her. He was never going to forgive her for this, never. With nothing more than a look, he assured her that she had crossed the line, invaded his personal space one too many times, but when she brushed near him, a cold smile stole across her face. "Rudy," she greeted casually. She winked, and then disappearing behind Lucius into the Dark Lord's inner chamber.
The jaunt was short, but it felt long to her, only because she had been anticipating that moment ever since the first time she had heard her Uncle Lomard singing the praises of Lord Voldemort's lofty ideals. Ridding the world of muggle-borns and half-bloods, cleaning out the dirty-blood from the wizarding world, she'd listened carefully, learned everything she could from Uncle Lomard, and after he'd gone home she'd written it all down in her diary, but that wasn't enough. She went to the library, started asking questions, but she was careful who she spoke to, for the mention of Lord Voldemort was gaining momentum, and there were those who did not agree with the Dark Lord's plans.
Lucius knelt before his master, and Bellatrix followed suit, recognizing the irony of the scene before her. Lucius Malfoy bowed to no man, which to her could only mean one thing. The Dark Lord was more than a mere, mortal man. He had surpassed the realm of wizard and was pushing the boundaries of Godhood. Dark magic hovered in the air of his chamber, clung to her robes and tickled like static against her face.
"You may rise, Lucius," the cold calculation of his voice, the perfect articulation of every word sent shivers of excitement through her. Looking out through the tops of her eyelids, Bellatrix watched Lucius stand, his hands folded together just at the waist, the sleeves of his black robes falling into place just above his slender, white fingers. "What have you?"
"I have brought to you a mighty gift, my lord." His proud voice seemed humbled, but only slightly, a fascinating contrast to the man she knew to present himself at all times with both confidence and righteousness. "A servant whom I believe shall surpass all others with her devotion. I present to you Bellatrix Black."
His attention was on her fully, as though there were not another person in the room with them, and the pressure of his prodding at the edges of her mind was almost maddening. Even as he spoke to Lucius, she could hear him sifting through her mind, toying with her thoughts and memories to discover where her loyalties lie, and what weaknesses he might find to use against her. "A mighty gift, indeed, Lucius," he intoned. "You will be rewarded for your devotion. Return to me tomorrow evening and we shall discuss the terms of your reward."
Lucius lowered his head in a humble bow, the shoulder-length, hoary blonde locks of his straight-cropped hair falling into his face like slices of moonlight, "Thank you, My Lord."
"You may take your leave," the Dark Lord said.
Bellatrix listened to the rustling softness of Lucius' robes as he departed from the room. When his shadowed passed her by, he brushed slightly against her, and though she couldn't be sure, it was a reassuring gesture reminding her to be strong. When the door to the chamber opened and closed, it was a sound both relieving and confining. The moment she had been waiting for had finally come. . . she was alone with Lord Voldemort.