Candied Tongue

"Beware the candied tongue that laps at royal boots, and through its sugary slime conceals the black heart."


Bellatrix pushed aside the stone wall that hid the Slytherin dormitories and stormed into the common room, breathing hard. She sent a first year scurrying away with a single caustic glance and sat down in the armchair closest to the fire. Crossing her legs, she picked an invisible speck of lint from her skirt and stared broodingly into the flickering flames.

She couldn't fathom how Alecto could have dared to speak to her with such disrespect. She knew it was jealousy: jealousy over Bellatrix's affairs, jealousy over her favour in getting her Mark so early…

The Mark. Bellatrix smirked and leaned towards the fire as though sharing a secret. She rested her elbows on her knees and clasped her fingers pensively. Alecto would see the error of her ways once they had joined the Dark Lord. Bellatrix would be loyal, devoted beyond reason or rationality; she would be the favourite, and Alecto would be nothing. All the others, even Rodolphus, would be nothing compared to her. She would give herself to her Lord completely; she would truly be only his; all her skill and allegiance would be his to command—

"Bellatrix. We need to talk."

She remained motionless; her silence was rewarded with a sigh.

"Bellatrix, can we please talk?"

She glanced over her shoulder and stared at Rodolphus with disdain. Unlike most, he did not wither under her gaze, but managed to keep his face calm and collected. He moved around her chair and stood squarely in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest. His robes billowed out and shielded the firelight from her face. The flowing black cloth created a constantly morphing shadow across her features as the fire reappeared and was blocked. Light, dark, light, dark; she watched him with amusement, and her black eyes glittered.

"Listen," he began, "I know we've been rather distant the past few weeks. And that's my fault," he added quickly, seeing her expression shift, "because… I wasn't kind to you. But—" he took a deep breath, "—that doesn't give you the right to hurt me, Bellatrix."

She cocked an eyebrow and turned on the sickly sweet charm that she knew Rodolphus despised. "Doesn't it?"

"No," he replied boldly, "and I don't like it. Neither would your parents—who, you may recall, want you to marry me when we graduate—especially if they knew what you've been doing." He paused to let his words sink in, waiting for some sort of indignant reaction. Receiving none, he clarified, "With other men."

Bellatrix pursed her lips. She vaguely wondered if Alecto had told him in a pathetic attempt to exact revenge, or if one of her other lovers had been struck with a desire to confess his guilt. Either way, it didn't matter to her; she knew how to handle Rodolphus.

"Rodolphus," she said in a low voice, "you're right. There have been others." She stood suddenly, and he stepped away from her, taken aback. "And there will always be others," she continued, "as long as you are disloyal."

Rodolphus let out a loud bark of laughter, drawing brief attention from others in the common room. "I'm the one who's disloyal. Bellatrix, please. Try to be rational."

She tossed her head. "I mean disloyal about our cause."

"Oh, Merlin, you're not still—"

"The Dark Lord," she hissed, an undertone of reverence in her bitter voice, "won't tolerate it, and neither will I!" She clenched her fists. Her scarlet nails dug into the flesh of her palms; she forced herself to keep pressing into the skin until her very bones hurt and the urge to scream had passed. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I needed to teach you a lesson, Rodolphus. If you're not faithful, you can't expect those around you to be faithful."

"But… sleeping with other men? Must you stoop so low?"

"I didn't sleep with any of them, thank you very much. I'm of the House of Black. I have standards; I have class. And they are worthless."

Rodolphus closed his eyes in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Narcissa's a Black, and she's got just as much class as you, if not more. Why doesn't she cheat on Lucius? Why isn't she acting like you?"

"Because she doesn't understand, Rodolphus! She doesn't understand that she's got to live up to her name! I'm trying to forge the connections that you'll thank me for one day. Do you know how much the Dark Lord is—"

"Bellatrix." Rodolphus placed a brazen finger on her lips, and her eyes flashed. For a moment, he thought she might bite him. "Can we please talk about this somewhere else?"

"Fine," she snapped, and dragged him across the common room to the stairs on the left side. She pulled him up several flights and flung open the thick oaken door that led to the seventh year dormitory. "Out," she spat venomously to the tall, lanky Slytherin perched on his bed with a book. He glared, but obeyed, throwing Rodolphus a curious look on his way out. As soon as the door swung shut behind him, Bellatrix flicked her wand towards the lock and muttered a spell under her breath. "May I continue?" she asked, making it clear that his permission was less than necessary.

"Be my guest," he replied, sitting on the edge of his own bed.

"The Dark Lord is looking for new recruits, and the sooner he can make them understand his cause, the more they can help him. That's why I'm valuable. I can reach students while they're still at school, before they get swept up in Dumbledore's nonsense and their parents' silly plans. Don't you see, Rodolphus? I have to take this seriously." She exhaled slowly and walked towards the bed, staring down at him through a curtain of ebony hair. "I can't let you ruin this for me, Rodolphus. I need to know: have you learned your lesson?"

"But—"

"Have you learned your lesson?" she hissed. She gripped his chin fiercely with bony, surprisingly strong fingers. When he refused to look at her, she pulled out her wand and placed the tip against his chest.

"I don't care how special you think you are, Bellatrix. You can't betray me and expect me to sit back and take it. Stop treating me like one of your tortured little pets." He stood sharply, and she let her grip on his chin fall from sheer surprise.

"I am special," she countered, glaring at him coldly, "and you're jealous, just like all the others." There was a moment of silence, and then her features shifted to a strange, insincere sweetness. "Frankly," she said nonchalantly, "I can understand your jealousy. You, Malfoy, Carrow… all of you. You're jealous that the Dark Lord is favouring me when I'm not even an official follower. Yet."

Rodolphus' face remained impassive. "I don't think you realize how stupid you sound."

Bellatrix's eyes widened, and she lifted her wand towards him. He grabbed her wrist and forced her hand away. "Don't, Bellatrix," he warned, "I'm not one of your little toys like Rosier or Avery. You may think no one measures up to you, but you're wrong. And one day, someone will stand up to you—just like I am right now—and you'll get hurt."

She said nothing. Her eyes glinted madly, and her pale, creamy chest heaved distractingly over the edge of her top as she breathed heavily.

"I think you should leave now," he said.

"You can't make me."

"I won't be scared of you anymore, Bellatrix. If you still want to be with me, some things are going to have to change."

She smirked, and ran a finger up his arm. "Maybe I like this stronger Rodolphus… it's impressive."

"Stop it. Leave."

Bellatrix stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his rough, stubbled cheek. The kiss left a faint red circle on his skin. He turned his face away.

"Fine," she conceded, "but don't expect to see me for the rest of the night."

"Somehow I'll get by."

Bellatrix frowned, biting her lip as her brow furrowed. She turned on her heel and left, flicking her wand angrily at the door so that it swung open to meet her. As she exited, she glanced over her shoulder. Rodolphus stood with his back to her, staring out the window. He was taping one foot and biting his nails absentmindedly.

Bellatrix smirked and closed the door softly behind her.

For the next few days, none of the Slytherins were quite sure as to whether Bellatrix and Rodolphus were still together. Even the couple's closest companions were in the dark, as neither party was willing to discuss the matter. They weren't speaking to each other, that much was certain; still, the idea that the Black-Lestrange power couple might have crumbled seemed somehow impossible.

Rodolphus was moody and morose all the time, and Bellatrix was more hot-tempered than before. She'd slapped Narcissa when the younger girl had tried to bring up Rodolphus. Narcissa wrote a tearful letter to their mother, which resulted in a stream of Howlers that Bellatrix burned one by one, ignoring the irate shrieks from the flames.

It had been about two weeks since the incident. Late at night, Bellatrix crept downstairs to the Common Room, a telltale scarlet envelope in her hand. Not caring that her housemates were sleeping peacefully, she pointed her wand at the dying embers in the fireplace and prepared to burn the latest Howler. Was this the eleventh, or the twelfth? Possibly more… she had lost track of quantifying her parents' anger. She knelt on the carpet and dangled the letter over the now crackling flames.

"That's going to wake up the whole House," came a low voice behind her.

Without turning around, Bellatrix tucked the letter into her satin green bathrobe and stood slowly. "And you care because…?"

"Because, Black," replied the silky voice, "I'm trying to get some sleep."

With that voice, it could be no one else. She stood in front of the fire, staring silently into the flames, and crossed her arms over her chest. The heat from the fire brought a glowing blush to her cheeks. "What do you want, Severus?"

He stepped forward from the dark, the flickering firelight throwing his features into sharp relief. His nose cast a shadow that obscured half his face. "Well," he said, a touch of condescension in his voice, "first, I wanted to point out something I observed."

"Yes?" she said icily.

"Your robe is smoking."

She looked down to see that there was indeed a thin trail of grey smoke rising from her bathrobe. She quickly pulled out the letter and watched with horror as the line of smoke grew thicker. "Snape!" she hissed, her eyes wide.

He shrugged, and the envelope burst into flames. Bellatrix yelped and dropped it on the carpet, kicking it into the fire. She gritted her teeth, bracing herself for the screams of her mother, but just as the first shriek pierced the silence, Severus pointed his wand at the fire and muttered, "Muffliato."

Bellatrix could only watch in astonishment as the letter, still screeching in the fire, carried out its shrill deed in silence. She stared at Severus as the red envelope twisted and burned in the flames before turning to ash. "What did you—?"

"I silenced it, obviously." He pocketed his wand and sat down on the edge of a chair, looking pleased with himself.

"But Silencing Charms don't work on Howlers."

"Mine does." He ran a hand through his greasy hair. "I invented it myself."

"Fascinating," she said unconcernedly, but inside her mind was racing. Someone with the talent to create their own spells where others had failed would surely be of use to the Dark Lord. And the rewards he would give her if, as her first act of allegiance, she brought him such a wizard…

"Severus," Bellatrix said, perching on the edge of his chair and placing a hand on his shoulder, "why did you come down here?"

He looked up at her, then at her hand resting on his shoulder, and coughed meaningfully. She ignored it and gave him at encouraging look.

"I couldn't sleep," he answered finally. "I thought I'd do some reading down here."

"Here?"

"The other boys don't like it. The light keeps them awake. Although," he smirked, "not as much as a Howler would."

"If you're reading, then where's your book?" she challenged triumphantly.

Severus pursed his lips, and his face tightened. He stared intently into the fire.

Bellatrix took a deep breath. If he wouldn't speak to her, she'd never get him to join her. She adopted a more flattering tone. "All right, Severus. I won't pry." She caressed his cheek with pale fingers. "But listen—"

"Don't toy with me, Bellatrix; I'm not Rodolphus."

She dug her nails into the fragile skin of his neck, barely able to contain her fury. She gritted her teeth and tried to remain calm. Slowly, bitingly, she hissed, "I would appreciate it if you refrained from mentioning his name in my presence."

"Fine. I don't give a damn about your squabbles." There was a hint of derision in his tone. He was baiting her, she knew; he was purposefully trying to make her angry. Well, she would prove that she could keep her temper.

"You're right, Severus. Our fights are silly." She tried to keep the sarcasm in her voice to a minimum. "I have more important things to worry about." She gave his shoulder a meaningful squeeze. "Things that you could be a part of."

He stiffened. His dark eyes gleamed in the firelight, but he remained silent.

Bellatrix pressed on. "You remember what I said before, about you having potential? It's true." She couldn't mask the lingering curiosity. "How many other spells have you created?"

"Plenty." There it was, that hidden pride that she'd been seeking. He could hide it no longer. "And potions, too."

She stood and faced him squarely. "I can bring you honour beyond your wildest dreams for your skills. I can lead you down paths you never knew existed." Her black eyes sparkled. "You and I will know Dark magic others can only dream of, Severus."

"And the Dark Lord?"

"Shall treasure you second only to me," she whispered.

He leaned forward in his chair, and she resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose. "Take me to him," he said softly. "Take me to him."

Bellatrix smiled triumphantly. The Dark lord would be pleased. "I can't take you yet, you know," she said sweetly. "I'm getting my Mark in a few weeks, but I can't simply come waltzing in with every moderately skilled wizard I find. It's up to the Dark Lord to decide if you're truly worthy." She locked eyes with him and held his gaze. "I won't make the same mistakes again, Severus. I need to know if you're truly devoted."

Severus nodded vigourously. "I am, Bellatrix. You know I am."

She shrugged. "It's not entirely up to me. The Dark Lord will be able to see if you're faithful."

"But when?" he pressed.

She stifled a yawn and glanced towards the fire. It was beginning to die from its earlier roaring flames to a dim orange glow. "It's getting late. I think I'll go back to bed."

"But—"

"Not now, Severus," she interrupted impatiently. "I want to go to sleep." She pulled her robe tighter and crossed her arms over her chest. "But you should think about what I've said. You won't get another offer like it." She glanced at the fire, watching the smoke curl upwards from the dying flames. "I'll see you in the morning. And Severus?"

He looked up at her quickly.

Bellatrix bit her lip and smiled. "Be a darling and don't tell anyone about this, hm? It'll be our little secret. Our little surprise for all the others."

He nodded.

Bellatrix nodded in return and moved swiftly up the stairs. She slipped silently into her dorm and sat on her bed, and then touched her wand to the candle at her bedside. With a quick muttered charm, a tiny yellow flame sprang up and began to glow over the parchment and quill on the table. She picked up the quill and held it poised over the parchment, biting the end of it thoughtfully, and then began writing.

Antonin-

There's a private matter I need to discuss with you. Meet me at the edge of the Forbidden Forest Wednesday night at midnight.

Bring Rabastan with you.

-Bellatrix

Well, I'm glad I got this one out a little faster than the rest. Apparently is due for some maintenance in the coming week, so if you can't leave a review right away, please dome back and try again. I really do appreciate them, and I reply to all the ones that are signed. The feedback you all give me is invaluable.

Anyway, on another note, I realize that "Muffliato" doesn't do exactly what it does here, but it was necessary. I hope my readers will forgive the little liberty.

Finally, kudos to all the people who figured out where the quotation is from. It's from The Royal Diaries: Elizabeth I, and the fool Hal says it to King Henry VIII when Elizabeth apologizes for swearing in his presence. Even though I haven't read it in years, I used to love it, and the words just seem appropriate.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

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