Lord Voldemort was still just anonymous enough to do his own shopping. And so it was that he went to Diagon Alley with the intention of purchasing spider legs, Puffskein hair, and wolf's blood for use in a potion meant to keep hair from greying. His was going entirely too silvery these days for a man of only forty-one, and though Voldemort knew the premature ageing was the result of his Horcrux-making, it still irritated him endlessly. The anti-grey potion needed redoing every month or so, and silver hairs still poked through every now and then. Now Voldemort was clear out of ingredients. He'd have to buy a few extra things to mask the fact that he was shopping for a hair dye.

He left the apothecary with a linen sack full of ingredients, and he was about to head to Knockturn Alley for a trip through Borgin and Burke's when he heard a voice call,

"Oh, Mr Riddle!"

He whirled round, and he saw Cygnus Black III and Druella Black walking toward him. It had been Druella who had called out, and Voldemort flashed her a small smile of acknowledgement. As the Blacks neared, Voldemort said,

"Morning. Doing some shopping?"

"The girls had a few things they needed," Druella said. "They're in Madam Primpernelle's. Well. Andromeda and Narcissa are in Madam Primpernelle's. Bellatrix loathes the place; I think she went into Eeylop's to get some treats for her owl."

Voldemort smirked a little and shook his head. "No, she isn't much for makeup, is she?"

Druella flicked her eyes to her husband and then asked, "Have you heard the news about her, sir?"

"About Bellatrix?" Voldemort felt his cheeks warm. It had been three days since he'd kissed her, since he'd squeezed at her body and thrust his tongue between her lips. He shook his head no. "What news?"

"Rangus Lestrange and I signed a contract, sir," said Cygnus Black. "Rodolphus and Bellatrix are to be married just as soon as she leaves school. He'll graduate after this year, of course, and then she'll have one more, and then they'll be married. They are formally betrothed now."

Voldemort's mouth fell open. His stomach twisted into an ugly coil of something he couldn't quite place. He gulped and nodded.

"Congratulations," he said, this throat dry. "What news."

"Ah! Here she comes now." Druella beckoned for Bellatrix as she approached with an Eeylops bag on her arm. She looked positively crestfallen as she walked toward her mother and father. She met Voldemort's eyes, scowling, and said,

"Hullo."

"I hear congratulations are in order," Voldemort told her.

"Are they?" Bellatrix replied. Druella huffed a breath and snapped,

"We have been over this, Bellatrix. Your betrothal to Rodolphus Lestrange is a great honour, both for you and for our House. You will be joyful and glad of it."

"Yes, of course, Mother." Bellatrix looked more glum than ever as she informed Voldemort, "I am very grateful for the arrangement."

"Perhaps we could speak in private," Voldemort suggested tightly, glancing around. "Just for a moment."

Bellatrix frowned at him, and Voldemort realised how stupid he'd sounded, asking for privacy with her in the middle of a London street. He shut his eyes and muttered to Cygnus,

"If I could just take her back to my office for a little while, Cygnus…"

"Is something wrong, sir?" Cygnus asked, sounding almost offended. Voldemort swallowed past the dry knot in his throat and said,

"I would merely like to speak to Bellatrix, alone, if possible. About her engagement. To properly congratulate her. As her teacher."

He was blathering on like a moron, he thought. But Bellatrix stepped up to him and threaded her arm through his, and she said,

"Side-Along would be quickest, wouldn't it?"

"Yes. I'll have her back shortly, Cygnus," Voldemort promised. He stared down at Bellatrix and Disapparated from the spot, whirring through the black pinching void until he and Bellatrix came to inside of his office. He had thought about warding up Malfoy Manor against invaders, putting the Apparition Point out beyond the garden gate, but they weren't at that point yet. No one was coming for Lord Voldemort yet. So he appeared in his office, and when he did, Bellatrix staggered backward away from him and wrapped herself up in her own arms.

"They gave me no choice," she choked. "They signed that contract without even asking me how I felt about it."

"Well, your consent will be needed for the wedding, obviously," Voldemort said, realising at once that it wasn't actually very obvious to Bellatrix how any of this worked. He sighed and said, "You've got plenty of time. All of your sixth and seventh years. And then, if you consent, you will marry the Lestrange boy."

"I've got far more important things to do than to be marrying Rodolphus Lestrange," Bellatrix spat. "Far more important."

"Have you?" Voldemort raised his eyebrows. "Like what?"

"Like fighting for you!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "I can't be producing an endless stream of children when there's to be a war! I need to be battling for you. I want to interrogate your prisoners; I want to use the Cruciatus Curse on them. I want to murder your enemies for you! I can't become my mother."

Voldemort's heart had set right to racing at her words about what she would do for him. He gulped and stepped closer to her. "You will never be anything like your mother. You will be an entirely different animal than any who has come before you, Bellatrix, and I will cherish that about you."

"Then I must not be bogged down by the trappings of marriage!" Bellatrix shrieked. She tore at her hair a little and whirled away, seeming upset. "Anyway, I do not want to be…intimate… with him. With Rodolphus Lestrange. I do not want him to see me without my clothes or to touch me. I have those thoughts about one man alone."

"Bellatrix," Voldemort purred gently. "You are mad if you think that you and I could ever -"

"Not even when I'm really and truly grown?" Bellatrix whirled on him. "When I've had my seventeenth birthday, you would never lie with me?"

"Of course I would, but I am not going to marry you!" Voldemort said, a bit defensively. Bellatrix scoffed and shook her head.

"I am not asking you to marry me, Master," she insisted. "I am asking you to be physical with me whenever you are willing, to teach me, and to guide me in the war to come. That is all I ask."

"And what of the Lestrange boy?" Voldemort pondered, taking another step closer to Bellatrix. "Will you simply not marry him?"

"I will… I will honor the contract," Bellatrix said. "The engagement contract. And I will make a decision about the wedding in two years. I already know what that decision will be. But I will not create discord and chaos now by breaking off the contract."

"Wise." Voldemort closed the gap further. "You are wise."

"Am I something else?" Bellatrix stared up at him, her wide eyes hooded, her full lips parted. She finished closing the distance between them, and she gazed up at Voldemort in a way that made him feel profound hunger. She finally asked him, "Am I desirable to you?"

"Yes." He whispered the word, just one word, and he reached out to hold her shoulders. She smiled a little, a cheeky little half smile, and she reached between them and shocked him by lacing one hand into his robes and squeezing a little between his legs. She got hold of his half-hard cock and started stroking it through the material of Voldemort's trousers and robe, and he sucked in air through clenched teeth as he whispered,

"Vicious little minx; you'll kill me."

"I only want to touch you, Master," Bellatrix hummed. She palmed his growing erection and murmured, "I only want to touch you."

"Not the Lestrange boy," Voldemort nodded. He reached up to lace his fingers into Bellatrix's wild curls, and instantly the scent of roses filled his nostrils. He bent down to kiss her head, to smell her hair and breathe her in, and he huffed as Bellatrix touched his cock through the fabric, "You don't want to touch the Lestrange boy."

"No; I only want to touch you," Bellatrix affirmed. "I want to touch you every hour of every day; it's a thought that keeps me awake some nights."

"Mmmph." Voldemort's mouth fell open, and he coughed out a little noise as Bellatrix quickened and deepened her touch. If she didn't stop soon, he was going to come in his trousers. She was going to make come burst out of his cock and leak into his clothes. He couldn't allow that. He must now. He wrenched her hand away and whispered down to her,

"Vicious little minx; you will indeed kill me."

"Please let me finish," Bellatrix begged, but Voldemort shook his head and insisted,

"I promised your father I'd have you back there soon. We only came here so I could congratulate you in private, remember?"

Bellatrix tipped her head and threw up one eyebrow. "Well, then? Where are my congratulations, Master?"

Voldemort slid his fingers through Bellatrix's and squeezed, and he lowered his lips to hers as he muttered against her mouth,

"Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Black. I'm sure you'll be a fine wife to Rodolphus Lestrange. I'm even more confident that you'll be a fine soldier for me, and that one day you will warm my bed most pleasantly."

She giggled and pressed her palms to his chest as he kissed her deeply. She smiled when he pulled away, and she whispered,

"Thank you, Master."

"Let's go," he said. "I promised I'd have you back."

Author's Note: Apologies for the short chapter length; I am on Kaua'i in Hawai'i on vacation and am writing whenever I get the chance. Thanks for reading.