"Here's your Decalcification Syrup, Mr Grought," said Bellatrix merrily as she strode over to the bed. "Did you hear the Healer? He says that you can go home tomorrow if you stay stable."
"Home," Mr Grought nodded, smiling weakly. "Yes. I am weary of being in hospital, though you've all taken such fine care of me."
Bellatrix smiled and uncorked the bottle of Decalcification Syrup. She poured out a spoonful and dosed Mr Grought, who winced at the bitter flavour. She handed him a glass of water to wash away the taste, and he gratefully accepted. Bellatrix corked the bottle and set it down with her spoon. She put the eartips of her stethoscope in and tapped the bell, which she then placed on Mr Grought's chest. She listened to his breathing, hearing far less of a rattle than had been there when he'd first come in. His lungs were steadily decalcifying - they'd been damaged by a potion. Now his breathing was nearly normal again, and Bellatrix nodded as she took out the eartips. She pressed her fingers to Mr Grought's wrist and felt for a pulse, and when she perceived it, steady and sure, she took a step back.
"You seem all right to me, sir."
"Did you hear the awful news?" asked Mr Grought. "About that poor family? About the bus full of Muggles? Terrible, isn't it? Who would do such a thing?"
"Who, indeed?" Bellatrix puffed, putting her hands on her hips. "Can I get you anything else, Mr Grought?"
"I just think it's horrendous," the old man continued. "Burning those Muggles alive. Today's Daily Prophet said they haven't got any idea who did it, because the description was a red-haired man with a mustache. The only lead they've got is that the man had a pale wand. But loads of us have pale wands; mine's yew and I certainly didn't do it."
"Right. You've been in here," Bellatrix chuckled. She patted Mr Grought's knee through his blanket and said, "I don't suppose you've been crashing any buses."
"I hardly think it's a matter for laughter," said Mr Grought, and Bellatrix stilled her face. She stared at the older wizard, who scowled and declared, "It's a damned tragedy. All those lives lost. That family gone. The world is mad. I remember things like this, from the days of Grindelwald. I thought we'd passed that as a society."
"Perhaps," Bellatrix whispered, "it's just beginning. After all, we've no idea who did it."
"I don't need anything else, girl. You can go." Mr Grought seemed uneasy, but Bellatrix just gave him a little curtsy and turned to walk away. She pulled out her wand and walked casually with it at her side until she reached the bed where Madam Carte was fixing a patient's pillow.
"Yes, Bellatrix?" Madam Carte seemed impatient. Bellatrix gave her a contented little smile and asked,
"Madam Carte, when you have a moment, may I discuss a patient with you?"
"Oh. Of course. Are you quite comfortable, Mrs O'Leary?" asked Madam Carte.
"What?" exclaimed ancient Mrs O'Leary, and Madam Carte pinched her lips and cleared her throat before yelling,
"Is that pillow better for you, Mrs O'Leary?"
"Oh! Quite so!"
Bellatrix stifled a smile as Madam Carte patted Mrs O'Leary on the shoulder and walked towards Bellatrix. The two of them headed to the window at the end of the ward, the window that looked out onto the London street.
"Yes, Bellatrix?" Madam Carte clipped. Bellatrix gave her a warm look and said,
"Mr Grought's breathing is much improved. I do think the Decalcification Syrup has done its work."
"Good. Glad to hear that. Anything else?"
"Oh, erm… do you recall how I asked you for the day off on Saturday?" Bellatrix asked, and Madam Carte narrowed her eyes.
"As I told you, Penelope can't come in that day. I'm afraid you'll have to work it."
"Right." Bellatrix flicked her wand toward Madam Carte and nonverbally incanted, Confundo!
Madam Carte trembled where she stood, vibrating just a little. Bellatrix concentrated hard on what she wanted, and then Madam Carte said,
"Oh, do you know… Penelope owes me a favour. I did give her the day off for her cousin's wedding last month. I'll tell her she'll simply have to work things out and come in. You've been doing so well since starting here, Bellatrix. Certainly, you may have Saturday off."
"Thank you so very much, Madam Carte." Bellatrix tipped her wand up again and thought, Confundo! She reinforced the spell so that it would hold, and she sighed. "Well, I'm off to attend to the new burn patient who's come in. Acid all over the arms; it's horrid. Let me go get the Burn Salve."
"Good day, Bellatrix." Madam Carte turned on her foot and strode away, and Bellatrix smirked to herself.
Bellatrix came to outside of 21 Bassett Gardens in Isleworth and marched straight up to the door. She raised her hand to knock, but then hesitated. She glanced down at herself; did she look all right? She'd been forced by her mother to wear something summery, and so Bellatrix was in a cream-coloured lace dress with a pale green sash around her waist. She'd done up her hair in milkmaid braids and had applied coral-hued lipstick and rouge. She felt rather foolish, for she tended toward dark colours in clothing. And she'd let Narcissa do her hair, for the younger sister had practically insisted. Bellatrix huffed a breath and decided it was too late to do anything about how she looked. She knocked firmly on the door, and her heart accelerated in her chest.
A few moments later, the door opened, and Lord Voldemort stood before her in lightweight linen robes of emerald green. He raised his eyebrows as he surveyed Bellatrix from top to bottom, meeting her eyes as he murmured,
"Hello."
"You don't like it. Neither do I," Bellatrix laughed, scratching at her temple. Voldemort licked his lips and admitted,
"I prefer your hair down, I'll admit. But no matter. I'll take it down later."
Bellatrix felt her eyes go wide. She stared at him in shock, and he curled up half his mouth.
"Now," he said, "are you fully prepared to go to this garden party with me as your date? I decided not to write to Avery asking to come; it felt cloying and desperate and I didn't care for the sensation."
"Well, we're all allowed dates," Bellatrix pointed out, "and I scarcely think Mr Avery will be offended if I bring you."
"You are of the purest blood," Voldemort pointed out, tipping his head. "When I am in control, it is people like you who will be at the apex."
"Beneath you, though," Bellatrix whispered, and he smiled.
"Come inside; we'll go by Side-Along from in here."
"Yes, Master." Bellatrix obediently followed him into the house and down the corridor a little. He took her shoulders in his hands and pressed her against the ugly wallpaper, bending down and breathing in.
"You smell like expensive perfume," he mumbled against her neck. "You're all dolled up."
"Just trying to be a society girl," Bellatrix joked breathlessly. He touched his lips to her neck and wondered,
"What if I marked you up before I took you to the party? What if I bruised up your neck with vicious kisses?"
"You can do whatever you want to me, Master," Bellatrix told him. "You could take me upstairs; we could be late."
"No. You've put all this effort into looking like a porcelain doll," said Voldemort, bringing his lips to her forehead. "I won't muss you until later."
"Later." It was the second time he'd spoken of bringing her back here, and her eyelids fluttered shut with anticipation. "What will you do to me later, Master?"
"All manner of things." He pressed his lips to her cheekbone and then put them beside her ear as he asked, "What did you do with Titus Malfoy?"
Bellatrix felt her cheeks go hot, embarrassed by the question. She gulped and pressed her palms against the wallpaper as she whispered,
"Touched. Kissed. He gave me flowers and sweets and such. He told me he loved me. He lied."
"No. He didn't. That boy did love you," Voldemort huffed against her neck. "I looked into his mind at his wedding."
"Of course you did," Bellatrix grinned. Then she felt awfully sad, thinking about the way Titus had kissed her and held her and promised her they'd be married. She shut her eyes and felt tears well, and then Voldemort pulled back and said gruffly,
"You've still got feelings for him."
"It's too late; he married the Hufflepuff bitch," Bellatrix complained. She swiped at her eyes and shook her head. "We should go to the garden party, My Lord."
He stared at her for a long moment, and she felt the familiar buzz of his intrusion in her mind. Suddenly a vivid image was pulled forth - Bellatrix sobbing in her bed in the Slytherin dormitory when she'd learnt that Titus had cheated on her. Voldemort's buzzing Legilimency subsided, and he whispered,
"There would be only you for me."
Bellatrix's lips fell open. She shook her head, confused, and he specified tightly,
"You're mine. You're my servant. And it's no secret that I crave you, that I care for you. There would only be you in my mind, you understand."
She frowned. Was he asking her to date him? She swallowed hard and licked her coral lip.
"You're my date today," she said, and he nodded.
"I should like to accompany you to more social events, Miss Black."
"So that you can see your old friends," she mumbled, but he shook his head and said,
"So that you and I would be seen together. Now, we really are going to be late to the Averys'. Let's go."
"Thirsty again. What would you like to drink?" asked Voldemort as they milled at the party. The hired strings had struck up a lively tune, and Bellatrix gave him a serious look.
"Why don't I get the drinks, Master?" she asked. "You go find your friends."
He smirked at her and nodded. "Firewhisky for me."
Bellatrix turned and walked away, off to the bar where a House-Elf was mixing drinks. Bellatrix ordered herself a Lavender Slip-Up and got Voldemort's Firewhisky, and when she found him again, he was talking with Germain Avery - the cousin of his dear friend Rickard - and Abraxas Malfoy. Bellatrix hesitated before walking up to them, feeling uncertain about approaching Titus' father. But she finally gathered the courage to walk up and hold out Voldemort's third firewhisky of the party, saying quietly,
"Your drink."
"Thank you, Bella," said Voldemort warmly. He took the firewhisky and turned to the other wizards. "As I was saying, what happened with that bus and that family needs to be the birth of something bigger. We all know that purest blood must triumph. We all know that Mudbloods are a scourge on our society."
"Yes, but do we advocate wholesale slaying of Muggles?" asked Avery, sipping his own drink. Abraxas Malfoy looked Bellatrix up and down and flashed her a sour little smile. Bellatrix gulped.
"Muggles are no better than animals," Voldemort said sharply. "They've no magic. They're just beasts, destroying their planet with pollution, killing one another with knives and guns, dirty. Filthy. And there are hundreds of them for every one of us. They're a plague on the Earth. This planet should belong to the magical."
"You're quite serious about all this," Avery noted. Mr Malfoy chimed in,
"I like the sound of it." He sipped his own firewhisky and added, "I like the idea of a world where we're not hiding because we're in charge of things. I like the idea of pure blood being appreciated."
"As do I," nodded Avery. "But this sounds dangerous. How could it come to be?"
"I'll need friends," Voldemort shrugged. "Good friends. Lots of friends. Hmm?"
"Cygnus says he's hosting a dinner for the old gang so you can explain all of this," Avery said. Then, looking abashed, he admitted, "I'd have invited you to this party, but… well, you know it's a gathering for the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
"My mother was a Gaunt, you'll remember," Voldemort said, chewing his lip. Avery bowed his head and said sincerely,
"I'm very glad you're here now, that you've come with Miss Black."
"As am I," Voldemort nodded. "Bella, come talk with me, will you?"
He put his hand between her shoulders and guided her away, and Bellatrix stared up at him as they reached a quiet spot. He blinked down at her and said,
"Since we got here, I've spoken with Mulciber, Nott, Avery, and Malfoy. Your father's already swayed, and in fact I overheard him discussing all of this with Crabbe and Goyle. So I've done what I came to do."
"Then you'd like to leave?" Bellatrix asked hesitantly. Voldemort shook his head.
"There is yet another mission to accomplish here today."
Bellatrix swept a few stray hairs from her dewy forehead. It was exceptionally warm and sunny at this party, and she felt herself getting a little sunburned. The Averys' garden was beautiful and smelled of flowers, but Bellatrix had already been annoyed by little flies and was taking too much sun. She wouldn't have minded leaving. But instead she asked Voldemort,
"What mission, Master?"
"Do you see that fool over there?" Voldemort gestured with his glass of firewhisky toward where Titus Malfoy and his wife Aster stood in a group, laughing. Bellatrix's stomach churned. She puffed a breath and raised her eyes to Voldemort.
"He's with some of my old school friends. They all took his side."
"Let's go say hello." Voldemort took Bellatrix's hand in his, and she was shocked as he started to pull her toward the group. He wouldn't be doing this, she thought, if he hadn't had so much firewhisky already. He was tipsy, she thought. As she passed Narcissa and her parents, Cygnus' eyes went to where Bellatrix held Voldemort's hand, and Druella touched at her lips in surprise. Bellatrix just walked with Voldemort to the group, and he muttered down to her,
"Say hello, Bella."
"Hello, everyone!" She feigned confidence and happiness as everybody in the cluster turned to look at her. Their eyes flicked back and forth between Bellatrix and Voldemort, and Lucius Malfoy finally said,
"Lord Voldemort, sir. My father speaks highly of you."
"Does he?" Voldemort squeezed at Bellatrix's hand and drank more firewhisky. Bellatrix felt sick. She shut her eyes for a moment and then looked to Titus, who returned her gaze and seemed a little sad.
"Bellatrix, I hear you're working at St Mungo's," said Calliope Crabbe, and Bellatrix nodded.
"I'm a Mediwitch."
"A damned good one," Voldemort confirmed. "Bella and I met when I was her patient."
"Do you date all your patients?" asked Aster Malfoy sharply, and suddenly Calliope giggled. Bellatrix felt so humiliated that for a moment she didn't answer. Her mouth fell open, and her cheeks went hot, and then Voldemort said in a very smooth voice,
"Alas, just the one patient. I woke up wanting her and haven't stopped since. So."
He sipped more firewhisky, and Bellatrix realised he was getting drunk. She gulped hard and said,
"I'm getting sunburned. I think perhaps we should go."
"Yes, you are very pale," said Aster, taking a little draught of her white wine. Bellatrix scowled at the girl Titus had left her for, her eyes welling. But Voldemort leaned down and kissed her burning forehead, whispering,
"I'll put Burn Salve on you when we get home, Bella. Don't worry."
"Forgive me," said Aster, looking right at Voldemort. "I had thought this party was for members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Has Mr Avery changed his policy?"
"Little girl," snarled Voldemort, his playful tone entirely gone and replaced with ice, "You will quickly learn that this orphaned Half-Blood is more powerful than you can imagine. Ask Mummy and Daddy, why don't you? I remember they were terrified of me in school. Absolutely terrified."
Aster's face went red, and she sipped her wine again. Titus put his hand on Aster's shoulder and said,
"Let's go dance, Aster."
The two of them walked off, and Lucius Malfoy said apologetically,
"He'll come around, sir. He doesn't understand… my father and I do, I assure you."
"Yes. I was just talking to your father about my plans," Voldemort said. "He seemed quite smitten by my ideas. Your brother has a lot to learn."
Gardenia Greengrass, who was Aster's sister, said furtively, "So good to see you, Bellatrix. Stay happy and well. Bye."
She turned on a heel and marched quickly away, and Calliope Crabbe shifted on her feet.
"You know, I really do want to go," Bellatrix whispered. "This sunburn is awful."
"Right. Come with me." Voldemort pulled Bellatrix away from the little group, and when they reached a table, he downed the rest of his firewhisky.
"I need another drink," he said, and Bellatrix protested,
"With all due respect, Master, I don't think you do."
"Titus Malfoy is an idiot," he hissed. "He doesn't realise… what he gave up. Who he gave up. And that little wife of his is a snit."
"Well, she doesn't much like me," Bellatrix mumbled. She set down her Lavender Slip-Up and asked, "Would you like to dance?"
"I'm a little unsteady." Voldemort lowered his eyes, seeming to realise just how much he'd had to drink. He visibly gulped and held out a hand, though, and he told Bellatrix, "One dance."
One dance turned into four, as they just kept swaying and moving together out on the grass dance 'floor.' Bellatrix kept flicking her eyes over to Titus and Aster Malfoy, until at last Voldemort snapped,
"Stop looking at them. Look at me. They are your past. I am your future."
Bellatrix raised her eyes to his and tried to breathe. He was so devastatingly handsome, she thought. She wondered what he'd meant earlier. Had he been asking her to be his girlfriend? Had that been it?
"Something like that," Voldemort mumbled. "For now, I'd like to take you home and do all sorts of unspeakable things to you. Things that foolish boy never got the chance to do."
Bellatrix smiled up at him and nodded. "Burn Salve first. I've roasted."
"Don't worry. I'll take care of you," he said softly. He bent down and kissed her forehead, and then he Disapparated straight from the dance floor, taking Bellatrix with him and landing beside his bed in Isleworth.
Author's Note: Whew! They're getting serious. Now who's ready for a good lemon between these two? Mwah hahaha.