He wanted to see me aside from everyone else, and even though Rodolphus hadn't said much more than hello to me after we had arrived for the meeting, I caught his spiteful glare from the corner of my eye, as he and the others filed out of the chamber. He was jealous of the Dark Lord's fascination with me, and a part of me conspired to imagine he was jealous that there was something other than malignant scheming going on between my lord and myself. It was never like that though. Alone with him, I sat in the half-shadows of flickering torchlight and listened with absolute devotion as he paced the floor before me preaching the brilliance of his own fool-proof plan like a sermon.
Why had he chosen me? Was it the simple matter of our mother's both having died in childbed? Did he see something of himself in my selfless ambition? I never wanted to ask him because I was afraid he'd think I was ungrateful for his attention, and so I watched with awe, as he unraveled himself before me. He spoke to me as though we were equals, even then, and in those days I had wished secretly that he, not Cesaro Black, had been my father. . .
Two hours had gone by since Voldemort had dismissed his other Death Eaters. Bella sat on the floor with her legs crossed casually. The chamber was cold, but the Dark Lord didn't seem to even notice as he paced thoughtfully in front of her. She drew her robes tighter around her, snuggling into them for warmth, and from time to time when he would pause reflectively to ponder an idea more deeply, she would watch the shadows play across his face. It was strange, but in the Dark Lord's presence Bella felt more secure and relaxed than anywhere else. There were no untoward thoughts giving chase in her mind about her mother's ghost, or the scheme her father and Rodolphus were plotting against her. She was focused, devoted, and when she realized this change in her thoughts, as comforting as it was, it frightened her.
Assuredly, he had sensed her thoughts, for the Dark Lord prodded into her reverie when he asked, "Have you thought of a reward you would like to receive for your service to me, Bellatrix?"
"A reward, My Lord?" She lifted her chin with casual curiosity.
"Already you have proposed to present me with more followers than any of your contemporaries, many of whom have been in my service for years. You deserve to be rewarded for your loyalty and devotion." He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his robes fanning momentarily with the movement, settling once again around his feet. "What would you have?"
At first she didn't reply. Her mind grappled with the necessities. Vengeance was her top priority. She thought of all the people who had humiliated her over her stay at Hogwarts, many of them now out in the world trying to make a life. Then there was Rodolphus. Rodolphus was a necessity, more than he was a priority, but with Snape's help now that she could guarantee him audience with the Dark Lord, winning Rodolphus the way she wanted would be easy. Most pressing, however, among her priorities was a struggle between avenging her mother and taking charge of her own life, before her father promised her hand to a drunken muggle he came across in a pub. Taking care of her father was a top priority.
"Ah," the Dark Lord was grinning. She hadn't even noticed he'd been sifting through her thoughts as they formed. "What if I gave you the power to have all of these things which you desire?"
"You would do that?"
"You only need ask it of me," he replied. "You want vengeance against those who made you feel small, and this will be easiest of them all for me to grant. You want to kill your traitor father, but worry that first you must make sure your future with Rodolphus Lestrange is set in stone so that there is no way for him to back out of it."
"Yes," she whispered.
"You are very clever to plot against his heart with a potion, but think, Bella," he took a step toward her, the crude torchlight illuminating the hideous beauty of his malformed face. "A potion would make him want you, yes. His love would be unyielding, but also unreal and uninspired."
Bella looked away sadly, knowing he was right.
"However, were you to become an entity to be reckoned with, say a powerful daughter of the darkness. . ." he was pacing again to inspire thought-flow by way of the steady repetition of his footfall upon the stone floor. "Imagine the possibilities for yourself. If you were to become my most powerful Death Eater, Bella, which is what I have always wanted for you even before Lucius brought you into my service, you could have anything in this world that you desired." Her mind groped at the possibilities, while he continued to walk before her. "Rodolphus would be attracted to you of his own free will. They would all be attracted to you because of your incredible power and station."
Bella's crooked smile twitched into existence as she envisioned what he spoke of. "I could toy with him," she couldn't be sure, but what appeared to be the flicker of a smile appeared on the Dark Lord's thin lips. "Make him do my bidding."
"Indeed," he encouraged her imagination to soar into the realm of possibility.
"He will never leave me wanting again," she realized.
"He'll tell you he loves you," the Dark Lord whispered. This was the one thing that most appealed to her, and he had known it would. She hadn't seen him move in behind her, but at some point he had arrived there to kneel on the floor, his hands perched upon her shoulder as he leaned in to murmur in her ear, "Think of it. Dream of it, Bella," he hissed. "It could all be yours. He could be yours. Devoted only to you. . ."
Without hesitation she asked, "What must I do for you to make this happen, My Lord?"
"Not for me," he stayed in that position, close behind her, his cheek pressed into hers, "with me." She could feel him grinning a twisted smile. "Kill with me," he said. "Not for me, but with me, Bella. I will teach you everything I know, and you will know more power . . . more prestige than any of my other Death Eaters."
"When can I begin?"
"Three nights hence."
"Who?"
He laughed, a horribly appealing sound that sent shivers of delighted fear and excitement through her, "We'll start with your father," he promised.
"Yes," she carried the sound of that s longer than normal as all of her dreams began to build up before her. She would have everything she had ever wanted. Respect, power, prestige, Rodolphus. . . and her mother would at last be avenged. Just recognizing it as a possibility evoked a tingling in the center of her stomach. "Yes," she said again. "We'll start with my father."
It had already begun, she thought, as she stepped out of the Dark Lord's chamber to head back to Hogwarts. Rabastan had fallen asleep while huddled in a rather stiff looking chair by the dying fire, and Rodolphus stood watching the embers fade. He looked over at her when she emerged from the chamber, his green eyes sparking to life with interest.
"There you are," he started toward her. "You were in there for hours. What happened?"
She couldn't imagine how smug her own grin must have looked from the outside. It was as though the power of the Dark Lord's promise had already begun to take shape, "Happened?" she asked.
"Yes? What happened?" Somehow, his tone was softer, though not much. He still disrespected her, felt superior to her, and though she didn't consider herself any kind of legilimens, he was obviously at a loss for what the Dark Lord would possibly want with her and her alone.
"Nothing happened, Dear Rodolphus," she arrived in front of him, and with a stead foot, she kicked gently at Rabastan. "The Dark Lord and I had business to discuss."
"Business?" he wrinkled his brow. "What sort of business?"
"Now, Rodolphus," she kicked at Rabastan again, harder this time, "had the Dark Lord wanted you to concern yourself with our business, he would have invited you to join in the conversation, wouldn't he? Come on Rabastan. We have to get back."
He gave a quick jolt, "What? What's happened?"
"Nothing, it's time for us to go back."
"Wait a minute," Rodolphus grabbed at her arm and drew her back to look into his face. "Aren't you even going to talk to me? It's been weeks since last I saw you."
"Has it then?" she pulled a mask of nonchalance. "Weeks?" She widened her eyes a bit, continuing her casual smile. "Come on Rabastan, let's go."
"I'll come see you on Saturday," Rodolphus said. "Meet me at the Hog's Head."
"I'll see what I can do," she shrugged. Rabastan stood beside her, his tired shoulders sagging as he stretched his neck to the side and muttered a complaint about there not being a single comfortable chair in that entire place. For the first time, Bella was feeling dangerous. She didn't care about gauging the look on Rodolphus face when she walked out without even petitioning him for a kiss. She could feel his eyes burning into her back, and imagined the discontent with which he regarded her. For the first time in her life, she understood Narcissa's game. All those times when she should have been playing hard to get with Rodolphus, she'd been playing hard to want.
Not anymore.