Finally we get to see Adele's pov. I am really starting to become very fond of her. I might write a one shot for her after I finish this. As well, we see the return of Rodolphus. Poor Rodolphus. He just seems to be someone who I always feel sorry for. For good reason.
Also, if you were curious, it is now October 1992.
Content was hardly the correct word to describe Bellatrix at the moment. Eyes half closed, she was practically purring as the Dark Lord ran his long fingers through the strands of her silky black hair as she rested the side of her head on his bare chest. Objectively it was not too comfortable: Her Lord was rather thin and bony so he was not the best pillow. However, in reality, she was not fussed: She just enjoyed being so close to him.
It was almost like it was a show of affection.
Almost. If anything it was like how you would pet a well trained dog...or snake.
They had been resting here for about twenty minutes after previous activities and she was in almost complete bliss. She always was when she was with her Lord, especially since he was in a good mood. It generally meant he was more likely to display some amount of what she liked to think of as fondness but she was not sure if that was the right way to describe his behaviour. She thought it was too simple for someone as magnificent as him.
"What did Adele say to you the other day?" he asked breaking through the silence of the room. It was more curious than angry tone, thank Merlin.
Pushing herself over, she moved so her chin was resting on his chest and she was staring up at him. He lifted his hand momentarily as she moved, but resumed his stroking to her delight once she had adjusted herself.
"She asked what I was doing with you," she murmured staring up at him hopefully. She would not lie to him, but she was not sure about his reaction.
"Did she now?" his tone was oddly thoughtful and he did not focus on her like she would have like, instead he gazed up at the canopy of his bed. "And what was your response?"
"I only said I had known you since before she was born and that she should not question you." Her tone was a little uncertain as she bit her lip a little with nerves.
His eyes flicked from the ceiling to her. They were absent of emotion which was a common occurrence for her Lord. She could not ascertain any inkling about how he was feeling which she assumed was the point. "You should be more careful. You would not have been at all convincing."
"I- I am sorry, my Lord, that was not my attention I just had not expected the question," she replied swiftly, trying to stare into his eyes and show her feelings, but it did not cause anything to stir in her Master's eyes, as always. "I just had not expected such a question. I had not expected her to be so bold."
"Yes, you would be surprised by how bold Adele can be when pushed," he replied thoughtfully. His hands had stopped moving now and she barely resisted nudging them with her head to continue the movement she had been enjoying before. "However, we must be careful. It is best that this is kept quieter. It is best she does not continue this line of questioning or observations, certainly not now."
She only nodded, her chin knocking into his chest and hand as she did so. "Of course, My Lord."
"Speaking of which it is now your time to leave." His voice was cool as he nudged her and pushed himself up into a seated position. As always, she would have liked nothing more than to stay, but she would not challenge him: What her Lord said was law after all.
"Yes, Master," she murmured obediently, though it was clear she was not very enthusiastic about the prospect. Pushing the sheet off herself, she slid away from her lord and out of bed.
The Autumn breeze hit her nude body and she shivered despite herself as she gathered up her clothes. Every now and again, she looked back at him as she dressed to find him watching her. It only pleased her slightly.
Finally, once she was done, she bowed low.
"Good night, Master," she said softly as she moved towards the door. He did not reply.
Adel Moreau knew who she was and Merlin she had no intention of ever forgetting it, despite whatever situations she found herself in.
Tilting her head to the side, she examined her reflection in the mirror before she picked up a lock of her blonde hair and it pinned it behind her ear. She sat for another moment before she was satisfied and found her feet.
Her deep blue eyes flicked over the room. It was certainly large and luxurious in its own right, but it was much too dark and traditional for her taste. She preferred the modern design and lace coverings that had encompassed her room in her home in Paris.
However, that was not her home now. This was now her home. It was just difficult to comprehend. It was not what she had expected.
Opening up the wardrobe, she ran her fingers through the silk finally selecting a teal cloak. Despite the fact she had a large amount of clothes, it was still rather empty, or at least more than she would have thought. After all, only her clothes were there.
She did not sigh or do anything as melodramatic as that. She merely closed the doors gently and examined her reflection again.
She always knew she would marry. That was not a surprise or an issue. She might have chosen her own husband, but with her position an arrangement or suggested marriage was always a possibility. It was not a problem. She knew and was well aware it was her role to marry, produce the next French Monarch and eventually to rule herself when her father passed. It was her duty to do all of those things so she would. She had never complained and she would not. She thought she could grow to love her husband and they could be very happy together.
Mostly these ideas had never changed, even after she had discovered who her father had offered her to. Like everyone in Europe, let alone the world, she knew what had happened in Britain. She had never doubted purity of blood was important, though the rumours of violence in Britain quite frankly disturbed her. Even so, she knew Lord Voldemort was a great and powerful man.
Only such a man would be worthy of being her husband.
Before their marriages they only had minimal interaction. It was always chaperoned meetings and everything she had heard about him seemed true: He was intelligent, well mannered and, above all, powerful. More than that, there was this charm about him that drew her in. She would have preferred that her husband was not so much older than her (she suspected he was about sixty, but she was not sure exactly) though his face seemed almost ageless which eased her doubt in that respect.
For her own part, she preferred to reveal as little about herself as possible. She had only sat demurely, simpered whenever it was right and spoke softly and gently and only ever said what was appropriate. It might not have been her true personality, though it was the right front for the right situation. In the end, the Dark Lord was pleased, her father was pleased and she was even pleased.
She wished she could have said such feelings lasted. Even a few hours after she had said her vows, she had started to have some doubt. She had hoped the Dark Lord would show some interest in her, though he refused to even speak to her, at one point he even stalked away into his study. She did not expect he would love her, at least not straight away, but she thought he would respect her enough to talk to her and to actually get to know her.
She was wrong.
It only got worse after the reception. As was fitting, she had always stayed pure: No man had ever been worthy enough for her to lose her virginity. It was only appropriate that she wait for her husband.
He had fulfilled his role, but not in a way she could enjoy. There had been no kindness when he took her. He had not been overwhelming brutal, but there was certainly no gentleness or softness despite the fact he had been making love to his new wife. He had seemed to not care at all or to be much at interested in the whole thing.
Merlin, it had hurt! Not too much yet it had not been at all comfortable as she had heard it could be the first time. Did he not realise she still did that for him? Her frustration had been at its peak none more so when he had stayed beside her for only a few moments before he left the room.
The next evening she had been shown towards another bedroom which had been listed as hers.
Only hers.
Apparently she and her husband were to be sleeping in separate rooms. He visited her occasionally to extract his rights as a husband. That did not bother her. In fact, after the first time, she had even started to enjoy it a little, but it was not how it should be.
This was not how marriage should be.
It was not aided by the fact she knew he was not faithful. She would never consider an affair: She would not lower herself to another man nor would she disgrace herself and her family in such a way. Her husband had no such morals. She had no proof though she could only observe the way one of his top officials, Bellatrix Lestrange, looked at him to know something was happening. She could have brushed it off as the unrequited desires of an obsessed fanatic, if she did not see him return them. They were not often and certainly discrete that, even she had troubles seeing anything amiss, nor were they loving or caring, but certainly they were lustful and not at all appropriate.
In general, Adele was always someone who kept calm and composed. She would not break that composure and she would appear as perfect. If someone wronged her, she would not charge straight into action. She would softly and quietly find a way to get her vengeance. Sometimes it might be a while or sometimes she might get someone else to do the deed, but she always gained the vengeance she sought in the end.
Though, this had made her slip up. She knew Lestrange positively loathed her and for her part those feelings were returned. Silly tart. She tried ignoring her. She had tried ignoring the looks and glances, but it was all too much. She had finally broken her cool, snapped and confronted her.
She had quickly recovered, though it was not soon enough. She had faltered. She had acted foolishly. It almost irked her as much as Lestrange.
Afterwards, she had considered confronting her husband. She almost had until she realised it would be pointless. He would not care to change his behaviour. However, she would not rest on her wand. No, she would confront her task in a different way.
Stepping back from the mirror and concluding she was perfect, she strode elegantly down the stairs and into a sitting room on the bottom floor where she was told a man was waiting for her.
As soon as she entered the room, the man stood to attention and bowed his head slightly. For her part, Adele smiled charmingly and gestured with her hand for him to straighten up from his bow.
"Good morning, Mr Lestrange. It is wonderful to finally have some time to meet you properly," she greeted politely in her native tongue. Smoothing the skirt of her robe around her, she sat down in the armchair facing him. He followed after she had sat. "I thank you for taking the time to meet with me."
"Not at all, Your Highness," he replied in French as well. Thankfully the other man was fluent at her native tongue or this entire conversation would be more difficult than it already was. She was especially pleased to hear him use her proper title. "It is quite an honour. However, I was not sure exactly why I was summoned here."
She would not have preferred to move straight into the point of his visit. She would have preferred to serve coffee or tea, descend into small talk than reach her conclusion and reason for this meeting. It was difficult to bring up out of the blue. However, she supposed it would be for the best. She would prefer for her husband to not interrupt this conversation and it would be awkward anyway.
"Well, Mr Lestrange, I preferred to divulge that at our meeting. It was something that I did not think was appropriate to send by owl," she replied eloquently, pausing a little to gather her words before she spoke, "you see, Mr Lestrange. I know this might appear as quite sudden, strange and indeed inappropriate, but I assure you it all has a purpose and I feel compelled to ask. Are you aware that your wife and my husband are having an affair?"
He did not answer straight away. In fact, he seemed to freeze and his eyebrows appeared to shoot up into his head before he gathered himself, more quickly than she would have thought.
"I apologise, Madam, but why would you develop such an opinion? I do not want to say you are wrong but I fear you may be inaccurate about your beliefs." He eventually replied his voice perfectly calm and level.
"For it is the truth." Her voice was filled with conviction and not once did she back down, looking Lestrange straight in the eye.
"Though have you even seen something that would make you believe such a thing?"
"Mr Lestrange, let me be plain which I admit can be against my nature, but I will behave as such for the moment. I may not have caught any acts of misdeeds, though I do not need to. I believe it is all perfectly obvious." For the first time she broke her posture and leaned in lowering her voice a little. "You are not a foolish man, Mr Lestrange, I know you know this is the truth. I suspect half of Europe knows it is the case. That they all know and they all find it amusing to laugh about how foolish we are behind our backs."
He stayed silent and she suspected he was gathering up an answer. She did not give him the chance.
"Mr Lestrange I urge you to acknowledge your wife and my husband's indiscretions. We both know they occur and this avoidance does not do anyone any good."
He stared down at her for a while before he found his feet. She was forced to look up at him.
"I apologise, Madam, but I believe this conversation is over." His voice was ice cold and before she could even say anything he was walking towards the door. Immediately she stood and, before she could help herself, she reached forward and grasped onto his hand. Her eyes were bulging slightly, almost in a plea for mercy.
"No! We let them get away way with this. Humiliating us. We are their wife and husband not each other!"
His other hand closed around hers and, more gently than she would have thought, he plied her fingers from her arm, but he did not move away, instead he lowered his voice to the extent that she needed to lean in to hear him.
"I am sorry, Madam. I only wish I could be of assistance. I know what you are going through. I have gone through it, but this is pointless. I do know what they are doing, but it cannot be helped. We are powerless to do anything so it is best that we stay silent." She wanted to interject. She wanted to scream at him despite how it was against her nature. "I am sorry."
The briefest ghost of a supporting and sad smile flicked on his features before he walked away.
She did not do anything for a few moments. For about ten minutes she stood frozen before she settled herself back into her chair.
All her life she had abilities and power. If she wanted something she could have it. If someone went wrong she could fix it, but now...
Now she could not do anything.