Bellatrix lay in the bed she shared with Rodolphus, facing away from him. She tucked her knees to her chest and dragged her fingers over the thick braid she'd brought over one shoulder. She stared at her strange, bent wand where it lay on her bedside table and remembered the day the wand had chosen her in Ollivander's.

'Walnut,' Garrick Ollivander had noted that day. 'A wood of great legend, noted for its proclivity to gravitate toward Darkness. Not that that speaks anything of you, my dear.'

'Of course not,' Druella Black had snapped, putting her hand on her daughter's shoulder.

'The wand is unyielding,' Ollivander had said quietly, 'as is, I should think, the witch that shall wield it.'

Bellatrix curled up her lips a little at the memory of being a wicked little eleven-year-old in Diagon Alley. Tomorrow at ten, she would go to Malfoy Manor and duel with that wand, 'fighting' her lord and master as she showed him in practise what she'd learnt from the book he'd given her. Rebounding spells, intended to send his Toenail-growing Hexes or his Melofors Jinxes back at him, would be sent from Bellatrix's wand. Her eyes flicked to the other book he'd given her, the little notebook in which he'd written notes on Occlumency, and she sighed. She reached for it, opening it flat on the edge of the mattress and reading by moonlight.

I have always found it useful to make a habit, as frequently as possible, of emptying my mind. At least once a day, I find a quiet place to sit or lie, and I shut my eyes. I count my breaths at first, and then I think of the blackest, thickest darkness I can imagine. If a thought comes into my mind, I acknowledge it, and then dispose of it.

Bellatrix blinked. She had tried this mind-emptying method a few times over the last few days, but she was, by her own assessment, a failure at the task. She could never get her head truly empty. One of the questions she meant to ask Lord Voldemort the next day was just that - how exactly did he send those thoughts away?

"Bella?"

She shut the little notebook and swallowed hard, putting her master's book on the bedside table and rolling to face her husband. Rodolphus stared at her in the pale blue light that bathed the bedroom, and he asked quietly,

"Aren't you going to try to sleep?"

"What about you?" she countered. He quirked up a little smile, but his eyes seemed a bit sad. He murmured then,

"She said no. Rosetta Shacklebolt? She told Rabastan 'not yet.' He's heartbroken. He told me at dinner."

"That little bitch," Bellatrix hissed. "They've been together for ages; how much longer does he need?"

"I don't think she actually wants to marry him, Bella," Rodolphus huffed. Bellatrix licked her bottom lip, swelling through with anger and muttering,

"She's lucky she's a Shacklebolt. I'd kill her for this."

"Why do you think I waited until half-past one to tell you?" Rodolphus smirked. "Listen. Rabastan told Rosetta that if she doesn't want to marry after this long, perhaps they ought to find different partners, you know?"

"Yes," Bellatrix nodded against her pillow. "Yes, I think he ought to find somebody else."

"But the problem is," Rodolphus said carefully, "that everything is so tense right now. Everyone's on edge, what with the war ramping up. I could use your help with some ideas. Have you got any leads?"

"Leads." Bellatrix grinned and squeezed her eyes shut in amusement. "Dolph, you know better than to think that I socialise with packs of witches, don't you?"

"Right." Rodolphus petted at her hair a little then, but Bellatrix flinched a bit. Rodolphus let out a long breath and asked quietly, "Would you like to… erm… you know… do what husbands and wives are meant to do?"

Bellatrix kept her eyes shut and chomped on her lip. She remembered, suddenly, the feel of the Dark Lord's hand trailing up her thigh, of his fingers twisting inside of her, of his mouth crushing hers, of his fist clenching her curls. Research, an experiment, he'd said. He'd just wanted to know what it had felt like to give pleasure without taking it. Still…

"I, erm…" Bellatrix tried and failed to open her eyes. "Not really."

"I understand." Rodolphus' voice was strangely kind. "You've got practise duels in the morning with the Dark Lord, haven't you?"

"Yes." Bellatrix opened her eyes at last and nodded. "My chance to show that I've truly learnt Rebounding."

"You'll do splendidly," Rodolphus assured her. He leaned forward and touched his lips to her cheekbone. He kept his mouth there and continued petting Bellatrix's hair, and he whispered, "You always fight so splendidly for him."

"Dolph." Bellatrix wondered rather frantically if she ought to give him what he wanted, if she ought to let him crawl atop her and move for a while until he found satisfaction. He smelled of rain and wood. He was warm where he touched her. He thought fondly of her. But he pulled back, and his pale eyes did not seem at all angry as he said,

"If it's all the same to you, I'll spend tomorrow at Rabastan's. He could use lots of Wizard's Chess and Firewhisky to take his mind off of Rosetta."

"I'll ask Cissy," Bellatrix told him, "whether she knows of any potential leads for Rabastan. You're a good brother, Dolph."

"You're a good wife," he countered, "and the best of soldiers. Goodnight, Bella."

With that, he rolled over, and Bellatrix did the same, her eyes fluttering shut as she stared at the Dark Lord's black leather notebook.

"Lucius. Cissy. Stiflingly hot day to just be sitting on a bench, don't you think?" Bellatrix strode from the Apparition Point up to the wrought-iron bench where Narcissa was seated in a beautiful high-necked dress with black lace sleeves. She always looked immaculate for Lucius, Bellatrix thought, and he always looked immaculate for her, with his silvery hair combed just so. The pair of them were like preening birds, she thought with a little roll of her eyes. She put her hands on her hips and glanced at the way Lucius and Narcissa were holding hands on Lucius' thigh.

"Listen. Cissy. Rabastan proposed marriage to Rosetta Shacklebolt," Bellatrix said.

"Did he, at long last?" Lucius sneered. Narcissa elbowed him gently and smiled up at Bellatrix.

"Well, that's marvelous, Bella."

"It would be, if she'd said yes, but she said no," Bellatrix huffed. "So, of course, Rabastan is rather urgently in the market for a suitable replacement. Any ideas?"

"Oh. Goodness." Narcissa looked to Lucius, and Bellatrix wondered for a moment if the two of them had some method of silent communication she didn't know about. Narcissa pinched her lips and looked up at Bellatrix as she said, "Well, we've never told you, because Rabastan was with Rosetta, but Lucius' cousin Laelia Malfoy has a rather ferocious crush on Rabastan Lestrange."

"Laelia?" Bellatrix frowned. "That statuesque Ravenclaw who was a year ahead of you in school? I thought she was working at the Ministry."

"She is. She's in the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Narcissa confirmed. "She told me that she had quite the thing for Rabastan, but she knew he was taken."

"Well, perhaps you could help me get something set up," Bellatrix suggested.

"Perhaps a double dinner date, as it were," Lucius Malfoy purred. "We could host Rabastan and Laelia here at the Manor for a meal, Cissy, and encourage them to be social with one another."

"But Bella and Rodolphus would have to come, too!" Narcissa exclaimed, and Bellatrix raised her eyebrows at Lucius, who cleared his throat as his high cheekbones pinked. He quirked up an awkward little smile and affirmed,

"Yes, of course. Bellatrix and Rodolphus must be there. Cissy, you'll have owls sent out with invitations soon, won't you?"

"Yes! It'll be grand," Cissy said, smiling. Then something seemed to catch her light eyes, and her smile faded. She flew to her feet, yanking Lucius up with her. She dipped into a little curtsy, and Lucius bowed his head, releasing Narcissa's hand at once. Bellatrix turned and saw Lord Voldemort striding out of Malfoy Manor, walking down the front steps with his wand in his hand. He had on billowing, lightweight robes in midnight blue. As he approached Bellatrix, she reached into her wide belt and pulled out his small black notebook, smiling a little to herself.

"My Lord," she said quietly. Voldemort stepped up to the part of the garden where Bellatrix, Lucius, and Narcissa were standing, and he looked at the book in Bellatrix's hand.

"You've done your homework, I presume?" he asked without pretense. Bellatrix nodded and said,

"I have, Master."

"Good. Come with me. We'll duel in the field beside the house. Good day, Narcissa. Lucius."

"My Lord," Narcissa hummed, and Lucius bowed reverently. Voldemort stalked off through the rose bushes, and Bellatrix followed him as quickly as she could manage. She had to trot to keep up with him, but she was able to move quickly in the clothes she'd worn today. She'd come ready for combat in black leggings, a belted black tunic, and flat black boots. Her wild curls were pulled halfway back and secured with a shell clasp, and she'd even lined her eyes thickly with black kohl today. Rodolphus had told her before she'd left their home that she looked fierce, like a warrior. Bellatrix liked it that way, but she also found that a niggling bit of her wondered if Lord Voldemort might find her just a little bit pretty.

They approached the open field beyond the side of Malfoy Manor, where the neatly manicured gardens gave way to a gently rolling expanse of grass and a mighty oak tree. Bellatrix watched as Voldemort turned around and looked at the small notebook in Bellatrix's hand again.

"Keep that," he told her, and she nodded firmly, tucking it back into her belt. She stared up at him, and in the sunshine, his eyes seemed just a little bit lighter brown than usual. He demanded,

"Three questions. I told you to have three questions ready for me about Occlumency."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix nodded. Voldemort began walking toward the oak tree, and Bellatrix walked alongside him. She pulled her own wand out of its holster and carefully fingered the walnut handle, inquiring, "How do you shove away the thoughts when you're practising keeping your mind empty? I can't seem to make them go away."

"You destroy the thoughts," Voldemort instructed her as they neared the tree, "the same way you destroy everything else, Bella. Light them on fire in your mind. Send Blasting Curses at them. End them with flashes of jade green light. Wreck the thoughts until there is nothing but velvet black in your head."

Bellatrix sighed but looked up to him and nodded. "I shall keep trying. I shall try harder."

"Second question?" He leaned with one hand against the trunk of the tree and twirled his wand with his other hand, an act that was rather alluring. Bellatrix licked her lip and asked,

"How do you cope if the Legilimens you're facing brings forth a memory that is… difficult? You know, traumatic or embarrassing?"

"You mustn't let the Legilimens dig that far," Voldemort said simply, "but if they do, you must push away all of your emotions. Destroy all feeling connected to the memory and vacate your mind of thought. Leave no trace of emotion. Leave no more thought to be found."

Bellatrix shut her eyes, for this was by far the most complicated magical theory that had ever been imparted upon her. She kept her eyes closed as she said,

"My third question is… will you teach me Legilimency, Master, if I manage to become an Occlumens?"

"No," he said instantaneously. Bellatrix opened her eyes and frowned just a little, resisting the urge to ask why not. He opened his mouth and said nothing at first, but then he explained, "You are a very powerful witch, Bellatrix. I am a very accomplished Occlumens. And I do put my faith in you as my servant. Still, the ability to… there are certain things even you must never be able to… no, it is not a skill I will ever teach you. In any case, most truly skilled Legilimens are born, not made. Occlumency is much more easily learnt than Legilimency."

"Were you born a Legilimens, My Lord?" Bellatrix asked, and he immediately snapped,

"That is four questions." Then his face softened a little, and he stopped twirling his wand. "Yes. I was. Do not fret; you'll master Occlumency just fine. Keep working on emptying your mind. Soon we shall have session wherein I enter your mind and you practise pushing me out. Believe it or not, that's the easy part. The removal of emotion and thought is the difficult bit; if you can achieve that, I won't be able to penetrate your thoughts."

She felt her cheeks go warm, and she bowed her head, staring at the grass between them. Her boots and his were so close right now, she thought distantly. She thought of reading his handwriting late at night, of dusting her fingertips over the places were the nib of his quill had dug into the paper.

"Right now, though, your mind is wide open, so let us turn our attentions to duelling," Voldemort suggested, and Bellatrix gulped. She raised her face to him and gripped her wand more carefully.

"I am ready," she promised him. "Ready to Rebound your Hexes and Jinxes, Master."

"Good," he said, tipping his head. "Show me."

He stepped out from the shade of the oak tree, and Bellatrix followed him. She walked away from him, about twenty paces, and then she turned to face him. There would be no silly bowing today; this wasn't a Duelling Club. She raised her wand toward her lord and master, her right arm shaking as she realised she was aiming a weapon at the wizard she served and adored. He smirked a little at her and admitted,

"Feels a bit off, being on the receiving end of your viciousness."

"I will not be vicious with you, My Lord; I promise," Bellatrix called. Her curls blew around her in the breeze, and she squinted in the sunlight. Voldemort tipped his head back and actually laughed a little, and he said,

"Oh, do be just a little vicious, Bella. I like you that way, hmm?"

He raised his own pale wand towards her, and Bellatrix shivered at the sight of him staring her down in a combative stance. They had always fought together, never against one another. Not even in training. She licked her dry bottom lip and prepared herself for anything, but she still flinched when a jet of purple sparks flew out of Voldemort's wand and rocketed at her. He had cast the Revulsion Jinx nonverbally, and it hit her so quickly that she didn't even properly calibrate the spell's impact in order to block it in any way. The Jinx forced her to release her grip on her wand, which tumbled to the grass. Bellatrix's eyes went wide, and she stared at Voldemort for a moment. He tipped his head and gave her a very dissatisfied look before calling out,

"What the blazes was that?"

"I'm sorry, Master. I wasn't thinking quickly enough." Bellatrix bent and picked up her wand, and Voldemort barked at her,

"In a battle, that spell could've been anything. I know it's odd to be duelling me, Bella, but I know you can think far more quickly than that. Do better. Now."

"Yes, Master," she nodded, steeling herself. She aimed her wand at him again, and he raised his own pale yew weapon. A jet of orange light flew from Voldemort's wand in a thin, bright stream that crackled and whipped, and Bellatrix's mind worked far more effectively this time.

"Remittet!" She slashed her wand downward, and the bubbling orange light slammed off an invisible barrier in front of her. It ricocheted quickly back towards Voldemort, who dragged his wand briskly through the air and called out,

"Protego."

Bellatrix watched the orange light sparkle and dissolve then, and Voldemort smirked at her. He nodded.

"Well done." Suddenly he whipped his arm over his head, and blue lightning bolts slammed through the air toward Bellatrix. She gasped and jabbed her wand skyward, shouting,

"Redire Hexia!"

A throbbing bubble, a dome of pinkish-silver light, webbed its way around Bellatrix. The lightning bolts from the Tempest Jinx impacted the shield, and it was as if they'd collided with stone. Bellatrix crouched down, still holding her wand upward, and waited for the lightning to shoot backward toward Voldemort. It ricocheted back so quickly that she could tell even he struggled to block it, and she heard him call out a Remittet of his own. The lightning bounced back to the shield Bellatrix hand put up, then back to Voldemort, and this time he dissolved the storm. Bellatrix finally lowered her shield, but the very second he did, Voldemort cried out,

"Flipendo!"

Bellatrix swirled her wand as quickly as she could and nonverbally incanted Rejicio! The Knockback Jinx Lord Voldemort had sent at her slammed off the air before her and ripped straight back at Voldemort. He whisked it away with a nonverbal Protego, but he skidded backward on the grass. Finally he grinned and strode toward Bellatrix, and he said,

"Enough. You have proven yourself."

"Master." She bowed her head, feeling very sincerely as though the only thing in all the world that mattered was pleasing him. All she wanted was to make him feel like she was useful, like she was doing well in her studies, like her body brought him some semblance of pleasure. Her head was abruptly flooded with thoughts of being in his office, of tasting cucumber and mint in his deep kisses as his hand worked on her, of -

"Bellatrix."

She raised her eyes, and Voldemort was staring down at her with a rather stern look. She wondered if she had made him angry, but his lips parted and he said softly,

"You are doing well. In… in your study of the Dark Arts."

"Thank you, Master. I shall work ever harder for you," she promised.

"I know," he said. He sniffed a little and asked, "When is that silly little dinner party you've all got planned, hmm?"

Bellatrix frowned, confused. How did he know about that? But then she realised… of course. He was an accomplished Legilimens. He could know anything he wanted to know.

"We haven't set a date yet, I don't think, My Lord," Bellatrix said. "Soon, I should think."

"Right. Well, if you're at the Manor for dinner, come to my office and we will, erm… discuss your studies," he said. She stared right at him, suddenly feeling more bold than usual, and she whispered,

"I shall come to Malfoy Manor whenever you command me to, My Lord."

"Quite so." He chewed his bottom lip for a moment and then said, "I have rather the run of the place this weekend; the Malfoys are going to their home in Scotland to get away from things for a few days."

"Oh, yes. Cissy had mentioned that. Lucius tried to invite her, but Abraxas and Mrs Malfoy said no." Bellatrix smirked. "Poor lamb just needs to be married already."

"In any case," Voldemort said, almost too loudly, though they were outdoors, "I think I should like for you to come Friday evening, to my office, to discuss Occlumency. That will give you a few days to ponder the questions you brought today and to continue working on emptying your mind of thoughts and emotions."

"Of course, My Lord." Bellatrix blinked. "What time shall I come?"

"Five." Voldemort sniffed. "Be here at five on Friday."

Bellatrix felt her stomach twist. Five o'clock. Would she dine with him? Would they… would he touch her again? She closed her eyes and said,

"I shall be here, Master. To discuss Occlumency with you."

"Bella," he said, and his voice was so strange then that she forced herself to look at him. He seemed almost nervous as he said,

"I wonder… I am just a bit curious, you see, about the subject of anticipation."

She just stared, unable to speak. He raised one hand to hold her face, and he bent down until his lips were beside her ear.

"I find myself wondering, Bellatrix, how well two grown people who know full well what is going to happen will handle a meal and a meeting and the days that come before all of that… hmm?"

He brushed his lips along her jaw, and Bellatrix shivered, flushing warm. She struggled to breathe, and she finally whispered,

"Someone may see, Master."

"Of course you're right. How silly of me, kissing you out here like an infatuated schoolboy." He stood up and narrowed his eyes down at her. "I shall save it all for Friday. Five o'clock, Bella."

Then he turned and walked away, his robes billowing about him, leaving her standing there, a panting mess on the lawn.

Author's Note: If you can taste the lemon coming, clap your hands! *clap, clap*