TITLE: Lady of Walpurgis

PAIRING: Bellatrix/Rodolphus

RATING: PG-13

WORD COUNT: 451

Written for serpentpixie.

Bellatrix Black smiled widely as Rodolphus took her arm in his, leading her toward the mansion. They had been dating for several months now, and Rodolphus had finally let her in, after some careful hints, on his secret passion.

He was a member of the Knights of Walpurgis, the group lead by Voldemort, a sort of politician who'd become active in recent years, seeking to narrow admission to wizarding academies like Hogwarts down to pure blooded wizards, refusing the admission of Muggles and Mudbloods (which were nothing more than Muggles who could do party tricks to Bellatrix) to their world.

When Bellatrix had confided in Rodolphus that she, too, believed in Voldemort's cause, he had become more eager with her than he had been in any of the previous months of their association, clasping her hands as he avowed to ask permission to bring her to a meeting, and even kissing her once when he left her home.

"Whose home is this now, dear," she asked, cloyingly sweet, stroking his arm on hers as they walked through the entryway, surrounded by portraits, some of whose occupants were noticably moved to one particular painting, where they were whispering amongst themselves. "I don't want to be rude to our host by not knowing his name."

"It's Rookwood's," he said dismissively, patting her hand. "But the host is Voldemort, truly! I cannot wait for you to meet him. The man is amazing."

"I'm sure he is," she said with a purr. Rodolphus made an excellent suitor, and was very proper in his treatment of her. He had no qualms about her usual coldness in return.

The dining hall was remarkably unfilled. There seemed to be a grand total of twenty or so Knights, all placed around Rookwood's grand dinner table with an empty seat at the head. Bellatrix settled into the seat her suitor pulled out for her, and occupied herself with cleaning underneath her long red nails.

She did not notice when the crowd quieted, and when a hand landed on her shoulder, she snapped her head up, prepared to stare down her escort, and found herself instead looking into the eyes of a remarkable being.

A handsome man smiled cooly at her. He looked on the surface to be an ordinary man perhaps twenty years her senior, and yet there was an odd slit to his eyes, something vaguely serpent-like in the way he moved his body as his hand raised to stroke her face. "Welcome, Miss Black," he said- cultured, cultivated. "I'm sorry you've been bored so long, but here I am."

Bellatrix moved from her chair and kneeled at his feet. "Thank you, Master."