A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. In case you were wondering: the title is also from an Alanis Morissete song. The line "I'll be the prettiest appendage to ever lose herself" is from Spineless on the album So Called Chaos. My summary description of Voldemort ("strangely enigmatic") is from Princes Familiar from The Collection album. Credit where credit is due. "Kroo-she-oh" is how I pronounce Crucio, but I might be wrong... Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Love. –Lia.

"If we were our bodies, if we were our futures, if we were our defenses, I'd be joining you. If we were our culture, if we were our leaders, if we were our denials, I'd be joining you." –Alanis Morissette, "Joining You." (Album: Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie.)

"He wants to see you alone."

"Really?" My eyes must have been shining; I must have seemed tremendously excited, because Rodolphus glared at me.

"Yes, really. Go in there and don't embarrass us, please."

I nodded enthusiastically then kissed him impulsively and whispered, "Thank you."

"I'll be waiting for you here, most likely to say I told you so."

There wasn't anything else I could say that wouldn't result in a slap or a patronizing comment from him, so I just nodded again and turned to enter the doorway he'd just vacated.

Several emotions overwhelmed me, including fear and desperation, but curiosity overpowered all of them. I just took one breath and one step at a time, only letting out a tiny gasp when the door slammed shut behind me.

At first, I thought Rodolphus might have been playing a cruel joke on me. After all, I didn't recognize the house we were in and the room I'd just been locked into seemed to contain no other person. But I just had to trust him. This meant the world to me.

I braced myself for disappointment and sighed, blinking back tears and about to turn back to the door and leave. But I froze suddenly, shivering when I heard footsteps behind me. I spun and let out a ridiculous little squeal like the excitable little schoolgirl I still was. This was… this was the Dark Lord.

I tried to say something- anything remotely appropriate –but my heartbeat exhilarated and my words failed me.

He smiled, an expression that would haunt my daydreams forevermore, and spoke for me. "I would introduce myself, but I'm certain you already know who I am." That voice: it would have made the Imperious Curse redundant. It was dark, cold, and captivating. The mere sound of it, coupled with the intensity I felt just being in His presence, made me want nothing more than to please Him.

I nodded, but that nonverbal reply seemed much too simple for Him. Miraculously finding my own voice, I replied, "I only know what I've read, my lord."

He raised an eyebrow at my use of the formality. But what else was I supposed to call Him? It was no-longer enough to think of Him as my husband's leader. Even if He didn't want me serving Him, I knew I would always think of Him as my own master.

He dismissed the matter with a question, "Do you believe that what the Prophet reports is true?"

"I… my lord, I do hope so." It was the only information I had. "Not the rumors, I mean, but, the facts, the war… it's really happening, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is."

"I want to fight in it," I confessed desperately before I could restrain myself. "I want to help you. I've never wanted anything as much as-"

"Silence," He said calmly, barely audible over my rambling yet obeyed instantly. I hastily whispered an apology. "I can see that you have passion for the Cause and, yes, I will consider allowing you to join my fight for it." I instinctively bit down on my lower lip to keep myself from screaming in delight; I would have only embarrassed myself and perhaps even caused Him to change His mind about me. I nodded excitedly and He continued, "But you haven't even introduced yourself yet."

"But didn't Rodolphus tell you-"

"He did. But, based on his disapproval of this meeting, I thought it would be best to treat you as if you'd come to me on your own."

"Thank you." That meant that whatever Rodolphus had said attempting to bias Him against me would be disregarded. I let myself relax just a little and decided to begin with my name. "I'm Bellatrix Black, my Lord."

He looked at me for a moment as if He was going to offer a correction, but gave none. He nodded for me to continue right when I realized my mistake. "Um, Lestrange, I mean."

"Do you often forget your own name, Bellatrix?" I had to take a few seconds closely examining His features in order to realize He was only teasing. "That's not promising."

"No. You see, I've only been married for three weeks now. Sometimes, I genuinely do forget, and, other times, I just wish I could."

I thought He would have commented on that statement. I wished He would have offered some advice or sympathy or asked how I could be so unhappy after only three weeks of marriage, but He said nothing. The pause in our conversation lasted only a matter of seconds before He spoke again. "Well, Bellatrix, it's also clear that you are-"

"Yes, my lord," I interrupted. It was an incredibly foolish thing to do, but, if I'd let Him finish that sentence, anything I said afterward would be meaningless. I needed to make Him understand. "I am, quite obviously female. But please listen to me! I'm not like other girls. I beat up my cousins, I practice curses, I got ten OWLS and-"

"Bellatrix," He interrupted in the same calm tone from His last line, but with a clear warning in the word. "It seems we've found yet another issue you are passionate about. But I was actually going to say 'pureblood', not 'female.'"

"Oh," I whispered, suddenly hating myself. "Please forgive me. I only meant-"

He waved a hand to communicate that we were finished discussing that issue. "How old are you, Bellatrix?"

"Eighteen, my lord."

"Eighteen," He repeated. It obviously was not what He would have guessed but I caught no clue as to whether He had thought me to older or younger than that. "May I have a look inside your mind? There are a few things I would like to know that I couldn't just take your word for."

I hesitated only for a second. While I'd spent the past two weeks teaching myself a variety of curses, Rodolphus had passed that time attempting to learn Legilimency, often trying to penetrate my mind while I was sleeping. The only thing he'd actually accomplished was giving me excruciating headaches that lasted for hours and couldn't be cured with normal healing potions.

But the Dark Lord was different. Everything I'd read reported that He had mastered the art and I trusted Him. I'd known Him for less than ten minutes, and I already felt that way. It wasn't the same way I trusted anyone else either.

On my sixteenth birthday, Rodolphus told me he loved me for the first time and I believed him, mostly because he said it was okay that I didn't think I was emotionally ready to say it back. A few weeks later, he said I still didn't have to say it, but I could prove that I loved him if I slept with him. I still wasn't certain of my own feelings toward him. After all, if I wasn't even prepared to say 'I love you' to him, then was I really ready for sex? But I went along with it because I was curious and because I thought I needed to make him keep loving me.

At this point, I knew better than that. I took an abnormally long time to even begin to trust anyone, especially someone who could take advantage of me. But, oddly enough, I felt none of that wariness with my lord.

Knowing exactly how vulnerable it would leave me, I nodded my consent.

"Just relax and look into my eyes," He instructed. I obeyed, letting His words soothe me the way a lullaby would.

Sights and sounds flooded my mind suddenly. There were random clips of memory, flashes of emotions, and multiple images. The order made no sense to me but they were all things I remembered seeing or experiencing.

His actual presence in my mind could almost be compared to a physical sensation: grazing over several thoughts in no particular order, the way it felt to have hands brushing over my body. In regard to my comfort and privacy, He wasn't overly harsh or hasty, but He wasn't going out of His way to be gentle either. It didn't bother me. Not until He caused some of my more personal and painful memories to surface.

My fear, helplessness, the abuse I'd endured…

"Stop," I whispered, begging before I could stop myself from doing so. "Please stop."

Slowly, He withdrew, conjuring one last memory: a happy one- eleven year old me mastering my first spell- before breaking our mental connection. He must have done that for my comfort more so than for His own information.

I caught my breath and tried to explain myself. "It's not that I didn't want you to see that…"

"You're ashamed of it. And you certainly didn't like seeing it second hand either."

I grimaced. "I can't really do anything about it."

"No, I suppose you can't." He replied finally. I couldn't tell if He was being sarcastic with that line or if He genuinely meant it.

I nodded. "I'm sorry." I hoped He wouldn't see that as a sign of weakness, but, of course, He would. I was already ruining my one chance…

Silence settled between us. I bit my lip and lowered my eyes to stare at the floor, waiting miserably for Him to tell me exactly what Rodolphus had said He would: that I was a pathetic little girl just wasting His time.

After what felt like ten minutes of agonizing uncertainty, I decided I was going to count backwards from one hundred and, if He still didn't say anything to me by the time I finished, I would just mumble some kind of apology and dismiss myself. It broke my heart to do so but I saw few other options.

When I reached eighty-three, I looked up at Him again, just for a second with a desperate yet unspoken question in my eyes. His expression remained indecipherable. I bit my lip even harder and looked down again.

By sixty-seven, it occurred to me that He might have been testing my patience: if I was willing to wait for Him. But, what was He doing in that time? What was He thinking about while I was going insane with anticipation?

Reaching twenty-one, I changed my mind. I didn't really want to leave; I just wanted to stop this. I took a deep breath and raised my gaze yet again. Shakily meeting His gaze, I exhaled, "My lord?"

A smile crossed His features just for a moment. It wasn't even a real smile: it was a mockery of a reassuring expression. "Shall I tell you what I like about you, Bellatrix?"

Something good? Something He liked about me? My mouth hung open slightly for a few seconds of disbelief until I finally remembered how to speak. "Yes, please."

"You are disciplined and determined. You're willing to learn and you're willing to obey. I could use that. But, what I dislike…" He stretched out the last word, hissing the "s" sound. My heart skipped a beat. I shuddered and nodded. "You're trying so hard to convince me that you are not helpless, and yet, you so firmly believe that you-"

"I'm not!"

"That's another thing, Bellatrix. This is the second time in the few minutes I've known you that you interrupted me. An act like that requires a tremendous amount of temerity."

After making sure that His sentence was indeed complete; I spoke again, "I'm sorry."

"No. You see, you cancel out that boldness with your repeated apologies. You change your mind constantly, and, therefore, you can never really be trusted, now can you?"

I knew the question was posed as both sarcastic and rhetorical, but I still felt compelled to answer it. "You can trust-"

He waved with another dismissive gesture before I finished. "Before you asked me to withdraw from your mind, Bellatrix…" He paused, preparing another question, another test. My heart gave a tiny spasm when He said my name, there was no more emphasis on it than usual, but I realized how often He was using it and tried to decide if I liked that or not.

"I saw that you have been exposed to a number of tortures: physical blows and hexes alike," He continued. "I was wondering if you have ever felt the Cruciatus Curse."

My eyes widened at the words. "No, my lord, I haven't."

"You seem excited," He commented with a slight smirk. "Would you like to?"

The descriptions I'd read about the curse flashed through my mind: "excruciating," "unbearable," and "agonizing" pain. That didn't exactly sound appealing, but, still, I wanted to see for myself. After all, the people who had written those books had most likely never felt it; they merely collected stories and testimonies.

I reasoned that I would never be able to master casting the curse if I didn't understand what it could truly do. I met His eyes finally and whispered, "Please."

He raised His wand right when I remembered something, "Wait!" He was about to put me under the torture curse after all, there were very few possibilities of worse punishments for interrupting Him a third time.

He seemed annoyed but not murderous yet. "Yes, Bellatrix? What is it?"

"What's the incantation for that curse?"

He gave another half-amused smirk, "Crucio." He summoned no magic as He said that, and, without wand usage, it was just a word. But what a marvelous word it was! It was going to change my life.

"Kroo-she-oh," I enunciated in a whisper.

"Yes," He confirmed a moment before repeating the word again, as a shout this time, conjuring up the most painful sensations imaginable and sending them coursing through me without a moment of warning.

The books were right, was my sole coherent thought before I crumpled to the ground and a series of blood-curdling screams escaped me.