Bellatrix had never been so bored in all of her life.
That day - like almost every other day for the last three months - she had the entirety of Lestrange Manor all to herself. Aside from the elves, of course, though they hardly made for any worthwhile company.
The dark halls of the Manor and the creaking in the wind only added to the home's loneliness and Bella found herself cursing all of her family who had left her.
Her sisters still had two more months at Hogwarts until Christmas break, and she'd already written both of them their daily letters.
Rodolphus was out working at the bank.
Rabastan was at the Ministry, along with her father.
Mother was out with Walburga, as per usual, and although Bella's loneliness was reaching a high, she didn't think herself so lonely as to resort to lunches with her auntie. Not yet, at least.
She'd never been one to have many friends. At school, she'd spent the majority of her time with the boys, being one of only four Slytherin girls of her year. But now, as she lay in the centre of her bed with her arms flayed to the side thinking about how they were all happy and busy with their careers, she found herself in a deep state of regret.
She should have just listened to Isla Selwyn's prattle and been done with it. Even Selwyn family gossip would have been better than being as isolated as she was.
Groaning at her own ridiculous thoughts, Bella forced herself up from the bed. She passed out into the hall, fingers running over the rough stone wall as she went. She'd already roamed the entire Manor, numerous times. She'd already combed through each and every room she had access to, aside from the elves' quarters. She'd even taken to reading about household charms in the downstairs library, but once she'd gotten the hang of altering her gowns and her ribbons to match, she'd grown bored of that, too.
There was nowhere left. There was nothing new to explore in her luxurious prison, and for a moment, Bella considered going outside to roam the gardens.
But then she reached a familiar black door at the end of the hall.
Rabastan's room.
She hadn't been through Rabastan's room. He kept it securely warded at all times, even when he was occupying it. Her brother-in-law wasn't the most social of men, but over the last few months of living with him, she'd easily picked up that he was quite the proficient wizard.
Getting past his wards would surely be a challenge.
For the first time that day, she smiled.
If there was one thing Bella truly adored, it was a challenge.
Three days.
She cracked through his pathetic wards in three days, and when Bella turned the doorknob to hear a click followed by the door cracking open, she found herself more disappointed than proud.
He'd gone for a runic based warding system, one which, admittedly, had been difficult to spot. The shortcomings of runic wards, however, were that once their weak point had been located and the rune identified, it was almost child's play to take them down. Replacing the wards on her way out would be tricky, but Bella was certain of her abilities.
Rabastan wouldn't suspect a thing once she was done.
She pushed the old door open with a long fingernail and crept into the room... but had to stop after the first step.
His room was a mess. By the state of it, she guessed that he must've instructed the elves not to enter.
Her excitement ever so slowly began to creep back in. What was he keeping that was so secret that not even the elves were permitted to see?
She stepped through the space lightly, careful not to tread on any clothing or papers that might leave a trail on her way. She scanned the mess as she passed, most of it being disappointingly mundane. Dirty socks. Discarded books. Scrunched up sheets of parchments.
Her nose crinkled.
Eventually she made it through the maze of mess to his desk - or at least she assumed it was a desk underneath the mountain of papers - and gently began to sift through the parchments. There were newspapers, cuttings of a few Ministry employees she recognised, parchments with Rabastan's handwriting, and-
Her eyes widened at a particular letter underneath a granted request for a port key allowance by the Ministry. It looked... important. Thick parchment, neatly addressed in cursive, wax seal. It was one of the few envelopes on the desk that wasn't damaged in anyway.
With the first true spark of excitement she'd had all week, Bella snatched it up and pulled out the letter inside, immediately beginning to read.
She didn't make it past the third line before her stomach dropped.
It was from the Dark Lord.
It had to be.
Rabastan,
Room 284 Insworth Keep, Knockturn Alley.
18th August, 11.00 pm.
Come alone.
-LV
LV. Lord Voldemort.
She traced over his handwriting with her finger tips, over and over again, carving the lines and loops into her mind so that she would not forget. She reached his signature – just two letters – and was almost afraid to touch them.
Over the last few months, Bella thought of him often. She hadn't had the opportunity to see him again, not since that night, but she still remembered how it had felt to be in his presence. How she'd been able to feel his magic, his power.
While she hadn't seen him, she knew he was still around, hadn't yet vanished again. After Rodolphus' first meeting, they seemed to become a regular occurrence. Every few weeks, he and Rabastan would leave in the night, leaving her alone in the manor, burning with jealousy.
And then one night, only a month ago, Rodolphus had come to bed to reveal a tattoo on his arm.
She'd instantaneously recognised it. She'd seen the very same mark on her father's arm countless times.
The Dark Mark.
That was the first night that Bella did not need to pretend to want Rodolphus.
The letter still in hand, her eyes bored into it. Just like her husband, the parchment in her hands had been his. The ink on the page had been his.
She looked back around the room and bit her lip in thought. She didn't want to part with the letter. She wanted something, anything for herself, even if it was addressed to Rabastan. Anything to prove to herself she hadn't imagined him. And by the date, the letter wasn't a recent one. Rabastan would no longer need it.
It would be so easy to take it with her.
But Bella was not a fool, and so, she took her wand from the inside of her robe and directed it at the parchment.
"Geminio."
The parchment split into two identical copies.
She smiled at her handiwork.
Bella folded up the original and put it with her wand back into the inner pocket of her robe. She gently folded up the copy and put it back in the envelope before she tucked it back under the pile on Rabastan's desk.
Back in her bedroom later that evening, once she'd cast an acceptable set of new wards (which, if she were being honest, were probably stronger than Rabastan's originals), Bella drew the letter out once more, tracing over the letters as she had done earlier.
She burned with jealousy. How was it that Rabastan, someone who couldn't even cast a ward sufficient enough to keep her out, had been chosen to be his? How was it that Rodolphus had been chosen, while she instead was wasting away in a barren old manor?
It wasn't fair.
Had she been born a man, she'd have been pushed into working for the Ministry the day she graduated from Hogwarts. Had she been born a man, her father would have had her pledging her loyalty as soon as she was old enough to speak.
She was a Black. The eldest born of Cygnus Black. She was far more deserving to serve the Dark Lord than both of the Lestrange spawn put together!
But then, amongst her bitter, angry thoughts, Bella had an idea. A dangerous, beautiful idea.
She was a Black. It was her duty to serve in the cleansing of the wizarding community.
What was stopping her from pledging her loyalty?
Since when had she ever let a man stop her from doing what she wanted?
She was a Black.
Why couldn't she be his, too?
A week later and Bella was surer than she had ever been sure of anything. She hadn't been able to focus on anything else, and now that she'd finally returned to her old home for their weekly family dinner, it was time to act.
While she knew she could've asked Rodolphus or even Rabastan, Bella decided she would first start by asking her father. He had attended Hogwarts with the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord had referred to him as an old friend at her wedding. Out of all the men she was well acquainted with, her father had the best standing with the Dark Lord, and she was sure her chances of success would be better with his endorsement.
Besides, she could always ask Rodolphus if her father said no.
She waited patiently throughout dinner, making pleasant conversation with her mother and auntie and uncle, until after dessert and her father had excused himself.
"And then I said to Ursula," Walburga was saying, "'You let one into your home, and then what's next? Mudbloods, and Muggles, too?' Honestly, as if she would even consider that half-blood for dear Marion. If my daughter came home with one, I'd send her right on her way. Isn't that right, Orion?"
"Yes, dear."
"Excuse me, mother," Bella said quietly, getting up and heading in the direction of the bathroom.
Once she was out of her mother's eye line, she took a left instead of a right, down the hall that led straight to her father's study until the sounds of Walburga's chatter faded out.
The door to his study was slightly ajar. She poked her head in.
He was sitting lazily in his favourite armchair, Daily Prophet in hand. His eyes were narrowed, and his forehead adorned with deep lines, but she didn't let that intimidate her. She knocked anyway.
Her father grunted. Taking that as an invitation, Bella entered, hands folded timidly behind her back.
"Father." She curtsied, giving him her sweetest smile.
"Bella," he gruffed, his eyes only momentarily looking up to her from his paper.
"I didn't get the chance to say it over dinner, but I hope you've been well," she said sweetly. "Being out of home, I haven't had the chance to see you as often as I would like to. I find myself worrying quite-"
"Out with it," he said, cutting her off abruptly as he lowered his newspaper to his lap. "What is it that you want?"
She could have denied it. She could have said 'nothing', that she was simply ensuring her father was well and continued on as a doting daughter until he was in a better mood.
But that wasn't the way one handled Cygnus Black if they wanted their way, and so Bella dropped her smile and her shoulders, and said, straight to the point, "I wish to pledge myself to the Dark Lord."
His face remained black. But then the greying hairs of his short beard began to twitch, and he laughed.
"You are a woman."
She shifted her weight to her other leg. "Yes, I'm well aware of that, thank you."
His laughter grew louder.
"Your place is here. Your duty to the Dark Lord is to carry on the bloodlines of Black and Lestrange."
It wasn't like she hadn't expected her father to say as much. But it still stung.
"I don't need to be a housewife to bear children, father," she said, stepping further into the room.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said, giving her his full attention as he put his paper down onto his side table at last. "His service is no place for you."
"But I was the top student in my entire year!" She protested, unable to keep her voice down. "My marks far exceeded Rodolphus'! And Rabastan's for that matter!"
"Your marks in school have absolutely nothing to do with it."
"Well then tell me what it is! I am ten times the witch than they are wizards, and they were invited to serve!"
"Bella..."
"Don't you want your children to follow in your footsteps? You've always wanted a son to carry the Black name, and I'm sorry I couldn't give you that, but this is something I can give you!"
"I will not be discussing this, Bella!" He yelled, his voice booming in a way that reminded her painfully of his scoldings when she'd been a child. "Your duty is here. That is the end of it."
With the beginnings of a hollow ache in her chest, Bella grudgingly nodded.
She knew a losing battle when she saw one.
"Thank you for your time, father," she said quietly, failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice, before immediately leaving the study and closing the door behind her.
As she stepped back down the hall toward, she could hear the echo of the loud cackling of her auntie.
She sighed.
At least she still had Rodolphus.
The very next day, she waited until her husband was just about to get into bed before she joined him in the bedroom.
His schedule was incredibly predictable, and she found him right where she wanted him. In the process of undoing his tie, Rodolphus stood on the far side of the room facing his dresser, his outer robes discarded on the bed.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and padded over toward him, stopping behind him to wrap her hands around his torso. She ran her hands along the front of his shirt, feeling the muscles beneath relaxing under her touch, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade.
He turned to face her properly once his tie was off, and she didn't stop him when he kissed her. She kissed him back, slowly, sweetly, until his hands were gripping the sides of her waist.
"Roddy," she murmured against his lips slowly, seductively, pulling back to scratch her nails gently up his forearms.
"My love?" The depth of his voice told her he she had him, and he pressed kisses on the skin of her neck.
"I wanted to ask you something."
"Well then," he drawled, his teeth catching on the skin over her collarbone, "ask away."
"I was thinking... now that you are my family... I want to help you. You and Rabastan."
She felt his smile on her skin. "You can help me by taking this off," he said between kisses, his hands tugging at the fabric of her dress.
"That's not what I mean, I... I wish to pledge myself," she announced before he went past the point of return. "To the Dark Lord's service."
His kisses halted.
He pulled back to meet her eyes, his features giving away that what she'd said most definitely hadn't been what he'd expected her to say. Slowly, his lips spread in a smile, as if he, too, was about to laugh.
But then he seemed to notice her expression. "You... you're serious?"
"I am."
"But... Bella... my love... what about the children?"
"We do not have children. And I am not with child. I am almost eighteen years old, there is plenty of time for that."
"But..."
"These things take time, Roddy. My mother didn't have me until she was twenty-three, not for lack of trying. If we are to be similar, I will be alone in this manor for five years."
"You have your sisters. And your mother, and myself-"
"I want to bring pride to my family. To our family," she said, struggling to keep her voice level. "I will be bored here. I am bored here. I will be wasted here."
His eyes searched hers. "Bella... there aren't any women in the circle... his service is a place for men."
"There are certain things that can only be accomplished by a woman," she insisted. "And I am no ordinary woman."
"I know," Rodolphus said. "I know that, I do. But..."
"Please, Roddy. I need this," she said desperately, her eyes as round as she could make them. "Please."
He looked pained. "If... if this is what you wish, then... I suppose the decision must be his."
A spark, bright and dangerous formed in the pit of her stomach.
"Yes," she agreed, unable to keep the elation out of her voice. "Yes, it must be his decision. But, as you know, in order to pledge myself, I must see him, myself. And... I know what your marks can do..." she said, her voice becoming gentle. "Father told us, when we were little girls-"
"No," Rodolphus said suddenly as he realised what she wanted, his expression sobering. "I won't."
"Please," she gripped his arm, her eyes pleading. "Father has refused me. But you, Roddy, you would never-"
"No." He pulled out of her grip, stepping back toward the door. "I will not risk such a thing."
"It's the only way!"
"You haven't seen his displeasure as I have! I've only just taken the mark. If I am to summon him for something he sees as trivial... you don't know what it is you're asking of me!"
"What if... if you can't summon him, then... couldn't you just take me with you next time? To one of his meetings?"
He looked at her as if she had lost her mind.
"Bringing in an outsider would be just as foolish, Bella."
A soft whimper escaped her throat as she tried to think of something, anything.
She needed this.
She needed this.
"I won't stop you from offering your service, if that is what you truly wish," Rodolphus said eventually, turning his back on her and heading toward the bed. "But I won't help you. You will do it on your own terms, in your own time, or else we shall both suffer the consequences."
Slowly, reluctantly, she nodded.
She didn't say anything more as she moved to her side of the bed and removed her dress. He didn't say anything either.
He must've said it to make her happy, she decided bitterly as she curled up underneath the quilt on her side. That way, he wasn't rejecting her, but it would still be impossible for her to offer her service.
But Bellatrix had been underestimated her entire life, and there was nothing like desperation to drive people to do incredible things.
She could find the Dark Lord on her own. She would find a way. No magic had ever properly stumped her.
Bella reached her hand underneath her pillow to stroke the rough parchment of the Dark Lord's letter.
She was sure of it.
She would find him.