An hour into the reception, and Bella still hadn't been able to catch either of her sisters. Instead, she was stuck, glued to Rodolphus' side, forced to smile politely and thank each of their guests, one by one.

It was a hard effort to hide her scowl.

She must've spoken to at least fifty strangers, all of whom spoke to her as if they knew her. At least half of them touched her. With each hug, Bella's patience slowly dissipated.

At a distance, she could make out Narcissa's distinctively purple dress toward the dance floor. She watched as she tipped her head back and laughed at something the young Malfoy heir had said.

Her sister was lucky. She had known the boy she was set to marry for almost half of her life. They had a friendship, one which would surely only grow as they aged together.

She glanced at Rodolphus. It wasn't as if he was a stranger, but they'd still only spoken a handful of times before they married. He was six years her elder, leaving her without the benefits Narcissa had of attending school with her betrothed.

Still. Regardless of how she felt about him himself, she knew there were benefits of becoming a Lestrange. Benefits that far outweighed the cons. She'd been reminding herself of all of them in the months leading up to the wedding, and it wasn't as if he were completely unattractive. It could have been worse.

Father could've chosen a Goyle.

"Darling," a shrill voice cooed from her left and she very nearly groaned. "Don't you just look wonderful? Doesn't she look wonderful, Orion?"

"Yes, of course," he agreed, his tone bored.

"Thank you, auntie," Bella forced out. "Thank you, uncle."

"You've made the House of Black so proud, dear," Walburga went on, and Bella gritted her teeth as she patted her on the shoulder.

"It is all any of us should hope for," she said, her agreeance distracting from her unenthused tone.

"Very true, very true," Walburga muttered as her eye was caught by another of the guests. "Orion, do you suppose that's Ursula Gamp over by the fireplace, by any chance?"

"It might be."

"Come along, then. I'm sure she's dying to hear all about Alphard…"

They disappeared into the crowd and Bella nearly sighed in relief.

"Rodolphus." She placed a hand over his chest in a way she knew men liked. "Would you be ever so kind as to fetch me a glass of wine?" She asked, knowing their time without any guests to speak to was limited.

"Certainly. I'll only be a moment," he gave her a warm smile and left her side for the first time in the evening.

This time, she did sigh in relief.

She took the short moment of solitude to shift the positioning of her wand in her dress that had ridden toward her armpit and had begun to dig in painfully.

If only she were able to use it on half of their guests.

"Bella."

She glanced up to see her father. Really, it was her own fault for expecting a moment to herself. She was the bride.

"Father," she greeted him with tight lips, her eyes drawing toward the goblet in his hand.

"You did very well today."

She straightened.

Praise.

Was that truly, praise? From her father?

"Houses Black and Lestrange are one again, at last," he announced as he waved his arms, a splash of butterbeer spilling over the edge of his goblet. "All thanks to me."

The small sprout of hope shrivelled up in her chest and she could fight her scowl no longer.

But then her saviour - who was neither a knight nor wearing armour - swooped in.

"Sir," Rodolphus greeted, offering Bella a flute of champagne.

She all but snatched it from his hand. Merlin knew, she needed it.

"Rodolphus," her father gruffed before taking a long swig of his beer. "I'm glad you're here. Tell me; how is Rabastan?"

"He is well. I just passed him by the bar, actually," Rodolphus said with growing amusement. "You'll probably find him there for the rest of the night."

"Good man," her father commented. "At the Ministry now, I hear?"

"Yes, sir. He's taken up an apprenticeship in the Department of Mysteries."

Bella took two consecutive mouthfuls of wine in the hopes it would make her father disappear faster. Or, at the very least, trick her into thinking their conversation interesting.

"He'd be down in the basement with Rookwood then, I believe. Last I heard, he's unspeak–"

A pale hand appeared on her father's shoulder, interrupting whatever else he was going to say about Rookwood, and for a split second, Bella sympathised for the one foolish enough to touch Cygnus Black without invitation.

"Cygnus," the man to whom the hand belonged said in greeting, a set of straight white teeth visible between his lips. "It has been much too long, my friend."

But her father did not react the way she expected him to. Instead, at the sight of the other man, he froze.

It was the strangest thing.

At first, Bella didn't think much of him. He was just another stranger. She registered that he was attractive, though the lines on his skin told her he must've been around her father's age. With the contrast of his dark hair and exceedingly pale skin, it suited him far better that it did her father.

But then upon further inspection, she noticed there was something… different about him. He had a strange aura about him, and she almost thought that she might've been able to feel his magic from where she stood.

But that wasn't the strangest thing about him, no.

For the strangest thing about him were his eyes.

They were red.

Her father bowed his head, ever so subtly. "M-my Lord."

Her gasp surely must have been audible.

The Dark Lord.

In the flesh.

Bella had heard his legend, of course. She'd heard countless stories from the days when her father's friends had gathered in their living room, and she and Cissy had crept out of bed to eavesdrop. She'd heard arguments between her mother and father, ones where he'd warned her that soon the world would see that the Dark Lord would one day be the greatest wizard who ever lived. How he was to be the saviour of the wizarding community, how he would cleanse them of the unpure, and it was vital to be on the right side when it happened.

But she'd also heard her mother spit back about how he'd then vanished without a trace. How ten years later, still, no one had heard from him.

She hadn't been able to contain her curiosity. She'd asked her father about him the very next day. Where has he gone? If he's all you say, why isn't he here? Why isn't he doing anything?

That had been the one and only time she'd been foolish enough to question her father of the Dark Lord. That had been the only time her father ever hit her.

"I confess myself offended," the Dark Lord said, his hand still on her father's shoulder. "You didn't think to invite me to the wedding of your daughter?"

Her father shook his head before he lowered it further. "My... my sincerest apologies. Had... had I known you were back... you would have been the first, of course... I just didn't wish to bother you, My Lord, you are a busy man, I…"

The Dark Lord watched him for a moment, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as if he quite liked the sight of her father grovelling. But then he smiled. "It's quite all right, Cygnus. We are old friends, are we not?"

"Yes! Yes of course," her father stammered before turning to his new son-in-law. "Please, allow me... you remember Rodolphus?"

"Yes, how could I forget?" He said, offering the same pale hand that had been on Cygnus' shoulder to Rodolphus. "Congratulations on your marriage, Mr. Lestrange. I do hope I haven't overstepped…"

"N-no," Rodolphus stammered, taking his hand in a quick shake. "Not at all. You are most welcome at the manor of Lestrange. Whenever you wish it."

"That is most kind of you."

Cygnus cleared his throat. "And my daughter, Bellatrix."

His red eyes became focused on her.

Something warm awakened low in her stomach.

"Ah," he sounded, offering her his hand. "The young Mrs. Lestrange."

As if on autopilot, she placed her hand in his and was struck by how cool his skin was. His touch was light, gentle and barely there. He brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed the lightest of kisses to her skin.

"It's a pleasure to meet you at last," she said, being sure to add, "My Lord."

"The pleasure is wholly mine." His words were silk.

It felt like her heart was in her throat.

But then he released her hand and the moment passed. As quickly as they had found her, his eyes moved back to Rodolphus.

"Mr. Lestrange," he began, and Bella immediately felt a lurching wave of jealously. "I was very sorry to hear of your father's passing. My condolences."

"Thank you. It was very sudden."

"Abraxas has been kind enough to offer to host a bit of a... catch up, of sorts, next week. It's a shame your father can't be there, but... your brother has expressed his interest," the Dark lord said, his eyes unwavering. "I'd like for you to come along, too."

She noticed Rodolphus stiffen. Still, to her relief, he said, "it would be an honour."

"Wonderful," the Dark Lord smiled, though it was odd. It didn't quite reach his eyes. "I look forward to it."

Rodolphus smiled, but it was stiff and forced. Though if it bothered the Dark Lord, he didn't say so.

"Come, Cygnus," he said at last. "I daresay we've intruded upon the newlyweds for quite long enough. I am in need of a drink."

And with one last glance, he was directing her father back in the direction of the bar.

Bella watched them as they left. Her eyes didn't leave the Dark Lord's form until he'd been swallowed up by the crowd and they were forced to.

The lungful of air she didn't realise she'd been holding released in a long sigh. Beside her, Rodolphus was still rigid, his breathing heavy.

She turned to him having almost forgotten he was there, her brows furrowed. "Are you all right?" She asked.

"I... I don't quite know what to make of that."

"Don't fret," she said, the green still swelling inside of her. "You have been asked to attend a gathering by he, himself. It is the greatest of honours."

"I… I think I also need a drink."

And then he too was disappearing into the crowd, and she was alone.

She wasn't certain that was what she wanted, anymore.

She thought of the Dark Lord on her wedding night, once all of the guests had finally left them.

She hadn't planned on it. It had just... happened.

Two nights before her wedding day when her father had gone out to see Abraxas Malfoy and Narcissa and Andromeda had gone to the library together, her mother had given her some advice.

Think of a happier place after the wedding, when he comes for you. It'll be over before you know it. You might even enjoy it.

She'd thought it silly advice at the time. Why on earth would she need to think of a happier place? She was to be married, and her husband's desires were to be welcomed.

But after the guests had gone home, and Rodolphus had steered her to his bedroom and dismissed even the elves, she wasn't feeling as happy as she'd expected to feel. He began to undress her, and her mood only worsened, so Bella decided to heed her mother's advice.

It has started innocently. She pictured his deep eyes and his dark suit and his dark hair. But then, as Rodolphus pressed sloppy, drunken kisses down her neck, she thought of how he looked at her, how his hand had felt under her fingers, how his touch had been light and considerate.

And then she pictured his hair and how it'd look if it were to be tousled. She thought of the feeling of his lips on her knuckles.

When Rodolphus pulled his shirt off to reveal a lightly haired, pale chest, she pictured his broad shoulders and how they might look without his robes in the way. She thought of his pale skin and how she would surely be able to trace his veins beneath.

She thought of his gentle hands on her body instead of Rodolphus' rough ones, and how his gentle kisses might have compared to Rodolphus' moist ones.

She thought of his silken voice when Rodolphus pushed inside of her, and how the pain might have felt, had it been him instead.

She thought of him uttering her name, and him gasping against her. She thought of him sucking her skin into his mouth and nipping her with his teeth. She thought of him groaning in her ear, she thought of him not being able to get enough, she thought of him becoming undone.

She thought of him until she could think no more.

And as her new husband rolled off of her and fell quickly asleep, Bella decided that her mother had been right all along.

She had thought of a happier place. She had even enjoyed it.