Bellatrix paced in the parlour of The Reverie. She'd dressed for battle, just in case. She'd put on leggings and a black tunic with a wide belt round her waist, and she'd braided her curls into twin plaits at the sides of her head. She had flat black leather boots on her feet and her wand in her hand, and she walked back and forth, back and forth. Maelstrom followed her, leaping after her heels and occasionally batting at Bellatrix's boots. She ignored the kitten for now, her stomach churning with anticipation as she wondered just what had caused Abraxas Malfoy to summon his master to Malfoy Manor.
Bellatrix twirled her wand anxiously in her hand and stepped back and forth before the fire she'd lit in the fireplace. It was too warm for a fire, probably, but she'd been nervous and needed to hear the crackle of the flame on the wood as she paced. She shut her eyes and whispered rather desperately to herself,
"Oh, Master, please let everything be all right."
She wondered whether something had happened to Lucius. He was meant to go back to school in the morning, to begin plotting the death of Albus Dumbledore. She wondered whether Aurors had come to Malfoy Manor looking for her. She wondered whether Abraxas had been sacked from the Department of Mysteries, whether there had been another prophecy. She wondered all of this and more as her mind and heart and breath raced.
Suddenly she heard the door at the rear of the house slide open, the one in the sunroom that led out to the path to the Apparition point. Bellatrix rushed out of the parlour, dashing through the dining room and toward Lord Voldemort, who illuminated the wall sconces in the sunroom as he shut the door behind him. He had dressed in sombre black robes for his trip to Malfoy Manor, and he loomed over Bellatrix, his face serious now.
"Please tell me what's happened," she begged him. She didn't dare begin to guess. She just studied his glittering black eyes as he suggested,
"Why don't we sit down?"
Bellatrix frowned a little. Sit down? Weren't they off to a battle somewhere? A fight? Wasn't there something to be done? Bellatrix followed Voldemort to the cream-coloured brocade divan in the sunroom and sat down beside him, furrowing her brow at him as she asked,
"Has something terrible happened?" Now she did begin guessing. "Is Lucius all right? Did they go to Malfoy Manor looking for me? Has there been a fight?"
"All's quiet," Voldemort said rather softly. "More quiet than we'd care for. You see, Bella, during wartime, we are always very cautious, very careful about large gatherings. Rodolphus' engagement party… we had to be careful about that. Why?"
"Because there could always be an ambush, Master," Bellatrix said, feeling confused. "Has there been an ambush on a gathering?"
"No." Voldemort licked his bottom lip. "What sorts of events might we hold where we must be very cautious about ambushes?"
Bellatrix scowled more deeply than ever and shrugged. "Christmas parties. Weddings. Funerals."
"Ah. Yes. Funerals." Voldemort stared straight at her now and nodded. "There will be a rather large funeral soon, Bellatrix, because the Pureblood community has lost one of its bedrock members. One of its… I know you and she had a very close relationship, and I am actually quite sorry for you in losing her."
"I beg your pardon?" Bellatrix's heart thumped. Who had died? She gulped hard and gripped the edge of the divan. Voldemort seemed to know he was being clumsy, and he finally clarified,
"Your grandmother, Irma Black, suffered an attack of the heart this afternoon. She died minutes later. Your grandfather Pollux rushed her to St Mungo's, but it was too late."
Bellatrix's mouth fell open. She and her grandmother Irma had been neatly knitted together. Irma had been cold and distant with Andromeda and Narcissa, and had flat-out disliked Bellatrix's cousins Regulus and Sirius. But she'd always had a sizeable soft spot for Bellatrix, teaching her how to use magic to knit blankets and drinking tea with her as the two of them discussed the family histories. Irma and Pollux lived in a beautiful country home with enviable rose gardens, and Bellatrix would stroll through them in the summers with her grandmother as Irma showed Bellatrix spells to keep the blooms looking perfect.
Bellatrix felt her eyes prickle just a little bit as she realised her Gran Irma was was dead. Not that she'd have been able to visit whilst locked up here in Cornwall, anyway, but still… the notion that Irma was gone forever was… well, it was shocking. It hurt. It caused a physical pain in Bellatrix's abdomen. Voldemort said quietly,
"Your family is grieving, of course, and there will be a funeral. A large one, for she was the matriarch of the Black and Crabbe families. But because Pollux took her to St Mungo's, word of Irma's death immediately reached the Ministry, and obviously they know that she's your grandmother. Abraxas summoned me because he was at work when a conversation broke out about using Irma Black's funeral as the perfect opportunity to trap and capture Bellatrix Black, the prophesied key to defeating Lord Voldemort."
"I understand," Bellatrix nodded. "I mustn't attend. It's too dangerous; they could -"
"No. You must attend," Voldemort corrected her. Bellatrix stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. She blinked a few times and shook her head.
"I don't understand."
"I'm afraid your grandmother's funeral is going to become a battleground, Bellatrix." Voldemort chewed his lip hard. He told her, "They'll send a scout in disguise. Perhaps even use a spy, a Pureblood we don't suspect. So you have to actually be there. Then Aurors will show up to the funeral with the intention of capturing you. And what I need you to do, against every impulse I know you possess, is to flee. I know you can fight better than any of my other soldiers, but what I will need of you on that day is for you to Apparate here the very instant that Aurors arrive. Leave it to the other Death Eaters in attendance and I to kill off the Aurors."
Bellatrix frowned. "But I could -"
"No, Bellatrix." Voldemort clutched at her jaw so hard that it hurt, and she whimpered. He shook his head and informed her, "Your duty, above any other service to me, is to come back here safe and sound and secret. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix nodded in his hand, and he released her. He rose slowly then, and she did the same. He nodded and said,
"I've all manner of preparation to carry out for this. I've got to get back to Malfoy Manor and start meeting with my Death Eaters to make battle plans. I am sorry for the loss of your grandmother, Bella."
She felt breathless where she stood, but she just nodded and whispered, "Thank you, Master."
"I'm so nervous I could vomit," Bellatrix said aloud as she stood in the rainbow quilt room and stared into the full-length mirror.
"Well, don't do that."
Bellatrix looked over her shoulder at her reflection and saw Voldemort in the doorway of the room. She let out a shaking breath and asked him,
"Do these look like good fleeing clothes, Master?"
He stepped into the bedroom and approached her, his heavy black waffle-weave robes swishing around him as he moved. He studied her appearance in her tea-length black silk dress with its buttons all down the front and its silk cape down the back. She wore black silk gloves and had pulled her curls into a tight chignon, atop which sat a small pointed black hat with a small black veil that came down over Bellatrix's forehead. She looked mature and elegant, she thought. Her parents would be proud to see her like this, for the little bit of time they'd see her. Gran Irma would have certainly liked the outfit. Bellatrix was really wearing it for her.
"You look…" Voldemort sighed, and Bellatrix knitted her brows, wondering if something was wrong. She turned toward him and stared up, and she read conflict in his eyes. His throat bobbed, and he wet his bottom lip with a flick of his tongue. He declared carefully, "You look almost painfully beautiful, Bellatrix."
"Oh." Bellatrix felt her stomach tighten at that. She reached for his hand, threading her gloved fingers through his, and she squeezed a little. She smiled just a bit and declared, "Today I serve you properly. I promise, Master. The moment I see Aurors, I Disapparate and come back here."
"And if you are captured, I will rescue you," Voldemort said, regret tinging his voice, as though he didn't want to admit that as a possibility. He looked away and said rather firmly, "Don't get captured."
Bellatrix nodded stoutly. "I'll escape smoothly, My Lord. All will be well. Now… it's nearly eleven. We ought to go, no?"
They made their way downstairs, and Bellatrix barked at Ronky to see to it that Maelstrom got plenty of food and water whilst they were gone. They went out onto the lawn, and Voldemort asked,
"Had you meant to continue work on your painting of the sea today?"
"Just putting the finishing touches on the palm, My Lord, and there's always tomorrow," she said resolutely. He held onto her hand and reminded her,
"You're not to leave my side. You're to stay with me at every moment."
She nodded and walked with him down onto the rocks, past the Apparition Point. Voldemort Disapparated, taking Bellatrix with him, and when they came to, they were at Pollux and Irma Black's beautiful country manor. People were Apparating onto the front lawn of the place, and when it was clear that Voldemort had appeared, gasps rang out around them and people began bowing their heads respectfully. Bellatrix expected Voldemort to release her hand, but he didn't. Instead, he walked them toward the front door of the house, and he looked around as though studying the faces of those in attendance. Then Bellatrix realised what he was doing. Legilimency. He was searching for a spy.
"My Lord!" cried Druella Black as they entered the home. "Bellatrix! Oh, Bella, dear."
They'd come upon the receiving line of family members who had gathered in a line to accept the condolences of those attending the funeral. Druella stood beside her bereaved husband Cygnus, who was the son of the deceased Irma. Cygnus stood beside his sister Walburga, whose cousin-husband Orion was alongside her. Alphard, the third sibling, was at the end of the row and did not seem at all pleased to see Lord Voldemort. Irma Crabbe's beloved niece and Bellatrix's cousin, Araminta Meliflua - noted for attempting to get a law passed legalising Muggle-hunting - stood just beside Druella. She was much older than Bellatrix, but the two had always gotten along swimmingly, and now Araminta gave Bellatrix a sad little smile. Araminta would be most aggrieved by the loss of Irma, Bellatrix thought. They'd been like peas and carrots, the two of them.
"Hello," Bellatrix said, both to Araminta and to her mother. She looked at her father and said, "Daddy, I'm so sorry about Gran Irma."
She wondered how much her father knew about the Aurors who were slated to come. She wondered how much anyone here knew about that. Voldemort squeezed her hand a little, and Druella said,
"How good it is to see you, Bellatrix. Thank you, My Lord, for allowing her to come."
"How could I possibly keep her from her grandmother's funeral?" asked Voldemort, though Bellatrix knew that if they hadn't been laying a trap, she'd have been sitting at The Reverie whilst everyone else mourned Irma Black without her. She knew what the prophecies said. She knew what her duty was.
Perhaps, in her mind, she'd been expecting to make it through the solemn ceremony at her grandmother's grave out back and then the eulogies in the ballroom before the Aurors arrived. Perhaps she'd even expected to be sipping red wine and forcing conversation with distant relatives when the Ministry came calling.
So it was with a great measure of surprise that Bellatrix heard screams from behind her as the front door of Black Hall was thrown open. She whirled around, everything suddenly seeming to happen in slow motion. She whipped her wand out of its holster at her hip and caught glimpses of unfamiliar faces rushing into the house's foyer.
"Go, Bella!" screamed Voldemort, and Bellatrix did as he commanded. She Disapparated at once, aiming for The Reverie. But just as she left her grandparents' house, someone snatched at her and took hold of her arm. Bellatrix tried to shake the wizard off, but it was too late. She was already Disapparating, disappearing into the pinching black void, bringing an Auror with her to The Reverie.
Author's Note: Ohhhhhh, nooooooooooooo… Voldemort's currently embroiled in a full-scale battle at Black Hall with his Death Eaters (we'll see this battle) and Bellatrix is about to land on the rocks outside the Reverie with an Auror in tow.
What could possibly go wrong?
Thanks so much for reading. I'm more grateful than I can say for comments and feedback.