"So." Druella Black dusted off the skirts of her sundress and sat slowly on the divan in her own parlour. Bellatrix sank down opposite her parents and waited for the hammer to fall. Druella looked from Cygnus to Bellatrix and shrugged. "I simply don't understand all this. Bellatrix wanted out from her engagement to Rodolphus and you said yes, Cygnus?"

"It wasn't as simple as that," hissed Cygnus. "Bellatrix wanted nothing to do with Rodolphus; meanwhile, both she and Tom Riddle… Lord… him… they wanted one another."

"He actually does want you as his bride?" Druella sounded legitimately shocked. She stared at Bellatrix and shook her head. "He went to school with your father and I. He's, what, twenty-five years older than you? He's been teaching you since you were a child. Feels a bit off, doesn't it?"

"I promise you that it does not feel off, Mum," Bellatrix vowed. "It feels quite right. I assure you."

That might have been too much information, she realised immediately from the look on her father's face. She winced and amended,

"What I mean is, things have changed between him and me. I'm not the twelve-year-old girl who begged him for lessons anymore."

"No, but you're not yet seventeen, either," Cygnus pointed out. "He can't marry you yet. Nobody can marry you yet."

"He can marry me in September," Bellatrix said hopefully. Then her spirits sank, for she remembered the way she'd have to go back to school in less than a month's time, and she shut her eyes as she corrected herself, "Christmastime. He can marry me at Christmastime."

"And he'll just wait all that while?" Druella asked in disbelief. "Whilst you piddle away at Hogwarts for your sixth and seventh years, he's just going to wait for you?"

"I suppose he is," Bellatrix nodded. "That was the impression I was given."

Cygnus cleared his throat. "His exact words were, I have waited for her to grow up, Cygnus; I can wait for holidays to see her."

"My." Druella raised her brows. "He certainly does seem fond of you."

"And I of him," Bellatrix nodded. "He and I were made for one another, I think. Daddy, how did Rodolphus take the news?"

"I spoke only briefly with his father," Cygnus said in an awkward tone, "and I told him that the engagement was off owing to your dissatisfaction with the match and your desire to marry someone else. He shook my hand and wished you well. Good man, Lestrange."

"Well, that's good, at least." Bellatrix frowned as she thought about returning to school and facing Rodolphus Lestrange, who would probably act (mistakenly) like a scorned lover. She sighed and said to her parents,

"I want to go see him. The Dark Lord."

"Is that what you call him these days?" Druella sounded surprised, but Bellatrix shot her a weighty look and insisted,

"Soon enough no one will dare speak his name, Mum. Everyone with half a brain will call him Master."

"He's got you round his little finger, hasn't he?" Druella narrowed her eyes at her daughter and nodded. "Go to him, then. He's probably already back at Malfoy Manor from the party. I saw him leave before we did."

"Right. See you, then." Bellatrix rose from her seat and started to make her way to the Floo fireplace. She paused and turned to face her parents. "Daddy? I really am sorry to put you in the position of having to break everything off with the Lestranges. I know it must have been awkward for you. But I promise you this will work out better for everybody in the end."

With that, she took a fistful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace, exclaiming,

"Malfoy Manor!"

She pinched and whirled through the licking cool green flames, and when she was spit out of the fireplace in Malfoy Manor, she stumbled forward and cried,

"It's just me, Mr and Mrs Malfoy! Bellatrix Black!"

There was no answer, but Bellatrix always announced her arrival. She wondered briefly if Voldemort would be in his office, but she reckoned he would have no good reason to be on the evening of the Macmillan summer party. No. He would be in his quarters.

Bellatrix was forbidden from sneaking up to his rooms, but she did it anyway. She crept through the corridors and flashed an angry look at the portrait who had ratted her out to Abraxas Malfoy the last time she'd come. The portrait giggled a bit maliciously, and Bellatrix shook her head as she walked by. She stalked up to Voldemort's door and knocked a few times.

There was no answer. Panicking, Bellatrix knocked again. Nothing.

"He's in there," said the portrait from behind Bellatrix. "I saw him go in."

Bellatrix whirled around and glared at the portrait. She knocked again, and when she got no reply, she turned to leave. She would just go back to her parents' house, she thought. But then she heard the door creak open, and Voldemort's voice said from behind her,

"Bella?"

She turned so quickly that she nearly fell, and then she almost fell again when she saw Lord Voldemort standing before her, damp and shirtless with a black towel wrapped around his narrow waist. Her mouth fell open, and eyebrows flew up, and she whispered,

"Master."

"I'm sorry; I didn't hear you. I was in the shower. I felt the presence of your mind in the corridor and rinsed off as quickly as I could," Voldemort explained. "Come inside and I'll get dressed."

No, don't do that, Bellatrix thought, and he quirked up half his mouth. He jerked his head to beckon her into his quarters, and Bellatrix's throat went dry as she followed him inside. He shut the door behind her, and he murmured,

"I'll just be a moment."

"I wish you wouldn't," Bellatrix whined, but Voldemort scoffed and hovered over her, tucking her hair behind her ear as he told her,

"It's a dangerous thing, a wizard standing with the witch he wants, with such scant material between them. Hm?"

"You want me?" Bellatrix covered his hand with hers, and suddenly she was being pushed toward the divan. Voldemort lowered his face toward hers and whispered,

"Yes. I want you. And I'm going to make you mine, aren't I?"

"Master… oof!" Bellatrix fell rather ungracefully onto the divan and let him just be above her, so much larger in every dimension. He bent and kissed her hard, and Bellatrix reached on instinct for his towel. She flicked at it and shoved it away, and then suddenly he was naked on top of her, and they both gasped.

Bellatrix wrapped her fingers around the shaft of his cock and stared down at it, at its purplish throbbing tip, the thatch of hair at the base, the thick long part in the middle. She looked up at Voldemort's eyes and hummed,

"I want to make you come."

He choked a sound and assured her, "That won't take long. But I don't suppose that it's something you ought to do."

"Why not?" Bellatrix tipped her head petulantly.

"Because you are you and I am me and there are years and years between us in all the wrong ways, and… oh, oh, Bella…" Voldemort hissed loudly and tossed his head back as Bellatrix dragged her thumb back and forth over the slit in the tip of his cock. She felt a dewy, damp heat spreading under her thumb, and the velvet on stone beneath her fingers was getting harder and longer. She stroked at him and played with a spot beneath his tip that made him squeeze his eyes shut when she touched it. With her other hand, she reached down between them and fondled the twin orbs that hung between his thighs, being extra careful with them as they seemed terribly sensitive. The two-handed approach seemed to drive Voldemort mad with desire, and he bent down and kissed Bellatrix as hard as he seemed able. She was bleeding today, but she was still flush with want for him.

"Bellatrix," Voldemort mumbled onto her lips, "It's going to make a big mess in a moment. Let me go finish -"

"Make a mess on me," Bellatrix begged him. "You know Scouring and Siphoning spells; make a mess on me."

"Bella." Voldemort shut his eyes, and his lips trembled against Bellatrix's. His cock jolted in Bellatrix's hand, and suddenly there were creamy white jets of fluid leaping onto the belly of her black silk dress. She felt the wet heat of the come through the silk on her skin, and she shivered, her eyelids fluttering shut.

The next few minutes were a blur. He Siphoned and Scoured the mess he'd made on her dress. He climbed off of her and asked if she wanted him to reciprocate. She nervously explained that the timing was bad for that. He picked up his towel and went into his bedroom, and Bellatrix lay on the divan and stared at the ceiling, amazed at what she and Voldemort had done together. What she had done to him. What he had let her do to him.

Eventually, he came back into the sitting room in a loose tunic and linen trousers, and Bellatrix slowly sat up on the divan. He sank down beside her, dragging his fingers through his thinning, greying hair, and he murmured,

"Surely understand why I did not think that was an appropriate thing to happen."

"Well, it's happened, and I am not sorry, Master." Bellatrix smiled a little weakly at him, and he smirked back with a shrug.

"I am not sorry, either, as it happens," he said. "Eventually, I will answer to absolutely no one. I may as well start now."

Bellatrix grinned. "I answer to you, just like everyone else will."

Voldemort's teeth sank into his bottom lip, and he took a deep breath. "Tell me more."

Bellatrix reached to stroke Voldemort's jaw, and she said,

"All of us will live in fear of your anger, thirsting for your approval. Your message will be the word upon which we lay our lives. And we will fight and kill and torture, all in your name, all for you, for your cause, for the advancement of your movement. For you."

"Bella." Voldemort's chest rose and fell rather quickly, and he reached up to thread his fingers into Bellatrix's hair. He leaned near her and kissed her cheek, and he whispered, "It could never be anyone but you, you understand. It could very well be nobody, but if it's to be someone, then it must be you."

He pulled back, and Bellatrix sniffled, suddenly overcome with emotion. She remembered what her mother had asked disbelievingly at the Black family home, and she said to Voldemort,

"What will you do when I am at school for so long?"

"I will wait for you," he said confidently. "I have lived many, many years without a witch. Now I shall have a witch - a brilliant, beautiful, loyal, terrifying, most wonderful witch - and I shall wait for her."

His thumb brushed away the tear that tumbled down Bellatrix's cheek then, and she shut her eyes. She heard his voice say then,

"You must have a ring. Something to mark you as mine when you go back to school."

An engagement ring, Bellatrix thought. She held out her left hand and stared at it, and then Voldemort took the hand and dragged his thumb over her fourth finger. He pulled out his wand and aimed it at her hand, and he began murmuring spells that Bellatrix could not begin to comprehend. She stared at his face, at his concentration and focus, and then back down at her hand. All of a sudden, a black metal back began to wind its way around Bellatrix's ring finger. Through the centre of the black band was a line of shiny silvery metal, and at the very top was a round diamond inlaid in the metal. Bellatrix gasped and held up her hand.

It was a shocking sort of ring, aggressive and angry-looking and yet awfully beautiful. She turned her hand and examined the ring, and then she shot Voldemort a wide-eyed expression.

"How did you do that, Master?" she demanded, and he gave her a cocky smirk as he twirled his wand.

"Ask any professor at Hogwarts who's the best Conjurer the school's ever seen," he taunted her, and she scoffed.

"This is extraordinary. This is… it's absolutely beautiful. I don't understand how you can do magic like this. How can you be this powerful?"

She raised her eyes to him, and he licked his bottom lip as he asked carefully,

"But you like it?"

"Yes, of course I adore it! Thank you! Thank you." Bellatrix realised she'd been so busy marveling that she hadn't been appropriately grateful. She tossed her arms round Voldemort's shoulders and kissed him square on the lips. That kiss turned into something much deeper, and soon enough Bellatrix was gasping for air as she broke the intense bond between them.

"Please don't make me leave," she begged him. "Please don't send me away right now."

"No." He petted her hair and brushed his lips over her cheekbone. "Stay for dinner. I'll have the House-Elf put out one more table setting. Abraxas already knows you'll be living here come December."

"And does he mind?" Bellatrix asked. Voldemort shook his head and dragged his thumb over her lip.

"It is as you say," he told her. "Soon everyone will bend to me. Abraxas Malfoy already does."

"Good man," said Bellatrix, and she leaned in for another kiss.

Author's Note: Woo-hoo! Things are getting serious! Thanks for reading and a huge thanks for reviewing.