October 14th, 1968
Dumbledore was pouring over his notes from the last meeting of the Wizengamot, when a sound like a thunderclap pierced through the din of his office, breaking his train of thought mid-sentence. Cygnus Black III inelegantly stepped out from the fireplace looking rather annoyed as he brushed soot from his suit and hair.
The Headmaster gazed fixedly upon the unexpected visitor, wondering how someone had managed to circumvent the powerful and ancient protective wards that prevented anyone from breaching Hogwarts from any external entry point. The only individuals throughout history who had the ability to access the Floo Network using that fireplace were typically the Headmasters themselves, and their spouses or family. Dippet had occasionally used the Floo when he needed to quickly reach Hogwarts from London if personal matters required his attention, but otherwise, it was a very well-kept secret.
"May I ask how you have come to be in my office, Mister-?
"Black. Cygnus Black," he announced.
"Ah. I see," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling, "But, correct me if I am mistaken, your great-grandfather vacated this office upon his death, oh…some forty-three years ago?" He gestured toward the napping portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, a wizard sporting a grey beard, and a matching black velvet vest and cap. "I am sure you realize that Black Manor's Floo connection to Hogwarts should have been decommissioned, as is policy."
"I do regret to intrude, Dumbledore, however I must speak to Tom Riddle at once," said Cygnus impatiently.
At the mere mention of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's name, Dumbledore's billowy eyebrows twitched, and his blue eyes gently probed Cygnus' own copper ones. The Headmaster looked as though he had just been given an intriguing piece of news.
"And is Tom expecting you? Pardon me for asking about the nature of your business, but surely you must see that I cannot simply allow parents to come traipsing into my office and demand meetings with faculty. Does this concern your daughters, Mr. Black?"
"In a manner of speaking. I am not at liberty to disclose any particulars" he said, his words carrying an intended air of implacability. He leered at the Headmaster as he readjusted his tie pin to ensure he looked just as presentable as he had upon departing Black Manor.
"I see. Well, Tom should be on break right now- actually, wait just one moment…" Dumbledore consulted an enchanted schedule that meticulously updated itself to record the times and locations of each faculty member's lessons and professional obligations. "Ah. I believe Tom will be with Bellatrix for her research mentorship period. You must be so proud of your daughter, with her recent behavioural improvement. It is in no small measure because of this mentorship with Tom."
Cygnus nearly lost his composure at hearing Tom praised for something he did not deserve, but quickly reassumed an appearance of unaffectedness. "Yes. In fact, that is part of what I came to discuss," Cygnus lied easily, drawing upon his chameleon-like faculty to bend and warp his demeanour with changing circumstances, a skill he had honed through years of backroom-deals and manipulation as Chief Goblin-liaison Officer at Gringotts. "My wife and I are pleased that she has calmed down, and is now focused on her books. I do apologize for her past misdeeds."
"I am a strong believer in second chances," said Dumbledore as he stood up to survey the man properly. The Headmaster considered using legilimency to verify that this was the only reason for the meeting with Tom, but alas, Cygnus, like many sons of Wizarding Britain's noble Houses, was not untutored in the mental art of Occlumency. While Dumbledore was far more powerful at destroying barriers than Cygnus was at keeping them up, he decided not to lay out all of his cards on the table. He merely smiled. "Your other daughter, Andromeda, demonstrates excellent behaviour—she is a friend to all, no matter their House or background."
"Is that so?" Cygnus looked upon the Headmaster skeptically, and made a mental note to have Druella send an owl to his middle daughter, inquiring about the backgrounds of certain "friends" to which Dumbledore alluded.
"Well, if you wish to meet with Tom and your daughter, you will find them in classroom 8B on the Eleventh Floor. You may return home by Floo, but I must notify the British Floo Network and request that the connection between Black Manor and Hogwarts be severed."
"Of course. Good day, Dumbledore," he said brusquely while darting toward the exit.
"Good day, Mr. Black."
"Please don't make me fill out this report, my Lord," grumbled Bellatrix. She was annoyed about completing her first personal reflection on the work she was supposedly doing as his research assistant.
"I've told you Bella, it's more honest this way. Dumbledore will know if I write it to sound like your voice, and then this whole game is up," Tom said.
"Since when do you care about honesty, Master?" she teased him. "If I was trying to be honest, I'd list under the heading "new skills gained" that I have learned how to make one particular wizard very happy using my mouth, and under "opportunities for growth" that I should be able to withstand the Cruciatus for a whole minute, and throw off the Imperius, my Lord." Bellatrix felt pleased at herself and smiled up at Professor Riddle with her impish grin.
"Aren't you just the most perfectly evil little thing?"
Tom's praise had an almost instantaneous effect upon Bellatrix, who felt her whole body respond as if he had physically touched her. Her limbs turned to jelly and something coiled inside her stomach; she wriggled herself upon her chair and pressed her thighs together to stifle a dull ache. She couldn't help but imagine him lifting aside her skirt, and sinking onto his lap as he entered her; they had not tried that position yet, but she had read about such a thing in a lurid Witch Weekly article. She could feel him combing through her thoughts to see what had her so flushed and squirming in her seat, and she did not bother trying to conceal anything, as he always found what he was looking for, she knew.
"Not now," he chided, "Not until you finish your writing. Will you do it for me?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good little witch," said Tom softly, rising from his seat to press a kiss into her neck, just below her ear.
When her Master called her strong, and his warrior, this pleased Bellatrix, but it wasn't of the same quality as those feelings that were stirred inside her when he would call her other endearments like 'little witch.' Her skill in duelling was evident to anyone with eyes, but there was something far more secret and intangible about how she related to him as a woman, not much older than a girl. This had confused her initially, as she had constantly tried to conceal any kind of weakness in front of others, and viewed traditional femininity as it was displayed by her mother and her friends as a shortcoming, but there was something like a great relief in not having to worry about any of those things, and to only focus on ways she could serve her Master and make him happy.
Tom suddenly detected another mind approaching the classroom, a mind that appeared to be exuding one singular, strong emotion—anger. The classroom was only locked with a colloportus today, as Tom fully intended to get some writing done on his article The Sanguinary Solution: Mapping Antecedent Feasting Patterns of the Vampires of Eastern Europe Using Trace Magic, which had been pre-accepted to a prominent academic journal, Recent Studies in Dark Creatures and Beasts.
"Bella, compose yourself. Someone is coming."
The door handle shook, and finally gave way as Cygnus Black stormed into Professor Riddle's office. He cut an imposing figure, and was quite broad-shouldered, though not as tall as Tom. He gripped his wand firmly in his right fist, though he did not point it. Bellatrix's mouth gaped open in horror, while Tom put quite an effort into concealing his surprise that the father of his youngest servant had the nerve and gumption to travel to Scotland just to confront him.
"Hello, Cygnus. I would say that this is a surprise, but I feel that I do owe you some explanation for what has transpired with the Lestranges recently."
"Tell me, Tom, why shouldn't I place you under an abstencia curse right this moment?" Bellatrix recognized the curse's name from a book she had read in the library of Black Manor; she knew it was exceedingly Dark, and would cause instant death if one were to attempt any sexual relations with another person. "Or, better yet, I'll duel you in this very castle, and show you what pureblood supremacy looks like in action."
"Please, no!" shouted Bellatrix, her eyes beginning to well with tears as her heart pounded in her chest.
"Stay silent, girl," snapped her father.
"While I do not underestimate your ability Cygnus, I can also accurately estimate my own. I would have you immobilized before you could even draw your wand on me. I do not wish to duel you, as I am almost certain it would result in the loss of your life, and I do not want to deprive Bella, whom I care for very much, of her father, nor make Druella a widow."
Bellatrix was mesmerized by her Master's impressive speech, and his ability to summon such eloquence under high pressure. She stared into his stormy, mildly bloodshot blue eyes, and noted the slightest creasing of his mouth at its corners as he pressed his bottom lip inward. If she hadn't been so attuned to the subtleties of his features, she would have been unable to tell that he was even remotely uncomfortable.
"Then answer me this—after all the donations that I've given to you, why do it? Like a hungry leech, did you have to take even more from me after glutting yourself on my Galleons? You just had to repay the House of Black for its generosity by ruining my daughter!"
"I am sorry that you feel that your daughter is ruined. She is sitting right here—Bellatrix, how do you feel about that accusation?" asked Tom, calmly entreating her to speak for herself.
Bellatrix could barely look up to meet her father or her Master's eyes. "I… do not consider myself ruined. I think I am improved. Professor Riddle, who soon the whole world will fear as the Dark Lord, has improved my whole life. I'm happier than ever, father, that I'm learning all kinds of advanced magic from him that no one else could teach me. I intend to serve him, and you can't stop me!" Bellatrix's voice had begun slow and wavered, but steadily increased in confidence.
"Foolish girl! You don't know how much you need the Black name and gold. Without it, you are nothing. And you are even less than nothing to him-" Cygnus pointed his wand straight at Riddle, who rolled his own yew wand between his thumb and forefinger as if he was simply bored by the tedium of the affair, "reaping all the benefits and none of the consequences of such grossly indecent behaviour!" he bellowed.
"I am unmarried and Bellatrix is an adult. So, as far as I can tell, your objection stems from two areas: first, I am a half-blood. Might I remind you, Cygnus, that it was I who opened the Chamber of Secrets when you were just a little shrimp of a third-year? I terrified you back then, and I believe I still terrify you now. Secondly, you view my relationship with Bellatrix as purely transactional. While that is a common assumption with respect to how I treat my followers, I find that it is wholly unfitting here. You are quite unaware, I imagine, of how brilliant your daughter is? If you had spent more time with her as a child, then perhaps that fact wouldn't have escaped you. I care about Bella more than you know."
"Well, you're not going to marry her, so I don't see what difference it makes if you claim to care about her!" snarled Cygnus, slamming his fist on Riddle's desk.
"I will provide her with an opportunity to be involved in the founding of a new society. With her capabilities, I don't see why she couldn't rise to being the Head of a new, fully-revamped Auror Department. The next few years could get messy, with battles and casualties—I've never made any secret of how I intend to seize power, if it cannot be won through government back channels—I intend to make Bellatrix a part of my day-to-day operations."
"A battlefield is no place for a girl. I'll not have her risking her life. You talk like this is inevitable, but what have you delivered on lately? Seems you've been awfully…distracted here at Hogwarts," said Cygnus snidely.
"In a few days, Nobby Leach will resign as Minister. I can't tell you all the details, but it will be directly my doing. A new government will be formed, one that is more favourable to our aims."
"So, suppose this all happens and you get your way. In a year from now, Bellatrix is still unmarried, and still living off of my gold, under my roof. What do you gain by preventing her marriage to Rodolphus, if you've no intent to marry her yourself? She'd already been promised to him!"
"My signature is not on that contract! I was never even consulted!" fumed Bellatrix.
"Your daughter does not wish to marry Rodolphus. They are unsuited. If any society busybodies gossip about Bella's betrothal being broken several months from now, just leave them to me. I'll make sure they are permanently silenced" insisted Tom with a measure of authority and control that even Cygnus felt.
"But why are you willing to go to all this trouble?" Cygnus looked exasperated as he threw his arms into the air, accidentally dropping his wand on the ground. Sheepishly, he crouched to pocket it, and continued to glare daggers in Tom's direction.
"Because Bellatrix is very…special to me. And she is an asset to my movement."
"Special, eh? Can't just have any ordinary slag, or a half-blood like yourself, can you Tom? No, only the best pureblood heiress for Tom Riddle. It's just another of your insecurities—changing your name, gallivanting with Malfoy, now taking my daughter from me—fancy yourself as a big Lord, do you, at next year's pureblood parties with her paraded on your arm?"
Her father's hateful tone dripped with the implication that Riddle was an interloper in their world, and Bellatrix sensed that he had parsed his wording to cause the greatest amount of hurt to his reputation in front of her, to make her doubt Lord Voldemort's interest in her was genuine, or related to anything other than some chip on his shoulder. She refused to capitulate to him. Riddle merely smirked amusedly, but said nothing.
"He is the Dark Lord, of course he should have me! He should have everything he wants! You think he just cares about being able to parade me at ridiculous parties?" Bellatrix had worked herself up into a frenzy by this point; each of her words carried the force of heavy hailstones as she reproached him between sobs, "I hate you! I'm never returning home again. I will have Florrie fetch my things, and you will not see me at the Christmas holidays, or ever."
Bellatrix shared a complex relationship with the Black family's female house-elf, Florrie. They had fought over her mother's orders to iron out her ringlets as a child (her mother's hair was straight and fine, and thus, Druella considered this to be ideal) and all manner of petty arguments had arisen since. But the elf was fiercely protective of all three girls, none more so than Bellatrix, who had been the first baby she had ever been assigned to look after. While Bellatrix suspected she might miss the occasional juicy bit of gossip over a cup of tea with her mother if she never returned to Black Manor, the two had always been on tenterhooks around each other. Still, the only lasting resentment that Bella bore her mother was the fact she had done little to nothing when Cygnus' punishments crossed a line from discipline to abuse.
She was now standing directly beside Tom, whose smirk shifted to a giant grin. "Well, Cygnus, I think Bellatrix has made her decision."
Cygnus felt a curse forming on his lips, but swallowed it. "Think long and hard, girl, about whether you want to be respectable and married, or a nefarious harlot, burnt off the tapestry."
"Nefarious? Listen to yourself, father. I can't be burnt off the tapestry just because I'm the Dark Lord's girlfriend!" shrieked Bellatrix. She didn't know what exactly to call herself, as they had never discussed it, although he had stated that he had been uninterested in seeing anyone else since he first laid eyes on her.
He didn't give her any visible sign that he objected to that term, so she continued listing reasons why she could not be disinherited, "Aunt Walburga respects the Dark Lord, and the tapestry is at Grimmauld Place, not Black Manor. And his mother was a Gaunt, and they were even more inbred than us!" Her eyes flew back to Riddle, who suddenly looked as if he was about to burst into laughter; evidently, he managed to find humour in the absurdity of the situation, even though Bellatrix knew that his family was still a sore spot for him. "Besides, if anyone is going to be burnt off, it should be Andie or Sirius. They're friends with all sorts of Gryffindor muggle-lovers, and I wouldn't be surprised if either one ended up with a mudblood."
"I will have Andromeda's compliance just as I will have yours!" Cygnus turned and pointed his wand at Tom, "And you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, at the very least, could apologize to me for such ungentlemanly conduct with my daughter."
"Cygnus, I apologize that I did not seek your permission to pursue Bellatrix. I had no intention of doing so, you must realize. I am a natural legilimens, and it is sometimes difficult to tune out very powerful thoughts that others project forward. Bellatrix has a very powerful imagination—she would be in class, but her mind would be…she would imagine certain scenarios between us, in very vivid detail, you understand."
Cygnus looked visibly nauseous, as if he was going to be sick all over the office floor.
"I ought to have waited until the term was over to make my intentions known, and also to have sought a meeting with you, Cygnus. Although you will agree that it is odd, as I am two years older than you, that I should ask your permission, to well…to marry your daughter."
"My Lord?!" Bellatrix felt as if she couldn't breathe.
"What, so now you do want to marry Bellatrix?" Cygnus asked incredulously.
"Yes. Perhaps that qualifies me as insane, but I believe that I do. If she will have me." His eyes searched her own, trying to read her thoughts, though he should have known it would be unnecessary as she immediately interjected-
"Of course! Yes, yes, a million times yes! Oh, I must tell Mum and Cissy!" Bellatrix gushed breathlessly.
"No, you absolutely must not tell anyone! You're finishing out the year pretending to be betrothed to Rodolphus. If you cannot refrain from saying anything, I will obliviate you. This is an order, Bellatrix."
"Yes, my Lord. I was so happy I wasn't thinking straight."
"Well, my daughter is ungovernable, uncouth, not to mention unladylike, but if you want to be magically bound to her, Tom, then I don't suppose I can stop that. Are you going to finish the year at Hogwarts as her professor?"
"I haven't thought that far. It would probably make sense for her to graduate and for us to wait until next Winter to have a formal wedding. I can't have Dumbledore whipping this up into a big furor, and postponing announcing it would help us preserve some appearance of propriety, as if I only began seeing her after she was no longer my student."
"Quite right. But one and a half years is a lot of time, and you might decide you no longer want to marry her. Would you take an Unbreakable Vow?"
"Certainly."
"Bellatrix, take out your wand. Repeat the spells after me," Cygnus said, eager to lock in the vow before the temperamental Riddle reneged on his words.
"I already know the spells, father." She omitted that she had known the spells since she was nine years old, having encountered them in the same book she'd learned of the earlier curse he'd used as a threat.
The two wizards moved closer, and joined their right hands. Bellatrix touched her walnut wand to the exact spot where their hands met, and incanted the first part of the spell. She spoke slowly, nervous that a single error in pronunciation could derail everything. When she felt a tingle radiating down her arm, she knew that the magic was being drawn out of her, and into the binding that would result in her Master's death if he failed to keep his promise.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle, do you promise to marry my daughter within the appointed time frame, that being no later than the 31st of December, 1969?"
"I do."
Red ropes emanated from her wand and enclosed both hands within a circle.
"Do you promise to keep her out of battles or active combat where you are not also present, and to fight to preserve her life to your fullest ability?"
"I do."
Bellatrix would have protested the second commitment, but her Master had already agreed to the terms before she could object. Was any man in her life going to consult her about what she wanted? At least she would be able to fight some battles. She finished the second incantation, and the concentric circles spun faster until the red light became almost blinding. Then it was no more.
They had a quiet dinner in his private quarters to celebrate, sharing a bottle of pinot noir, seafood linguine with mussels, olive tapenade, and upon Bellatrix's request to the elves, tiramisu—Tom had needed to speak to the head chef, a stout, aged elf named Zilby, who had trained in French and Italian kitchens in his youth before coming to Hogwarts, in order to accommodate the choice of menu. He ordered only one of each dish and cast doubling charms. He could not take chances with the elves, especially as they were not bound to him, but to the orders of the school, which effectively meant Dumbledore could interrogate them.
Tom had not counted on making an Unbreakable Vow or proposing marriage on that day. In some sense, Cygnus showing up and demanding he take accountability had sealed their fate. Although, Tom wondered if it might not have already been sealed by the prophecy made almost nine years ago? Perhaps, as the centaurs believed, it had been sealed in the stars. He had never entertained the idea of marriage, not even remotely; however, he had been re-evaluating many things in the short span of time in which he had become close to Bellatrix. Perhaps it was pure madness, a wild fancy, a lark—but somehow, he didn't think so.
With their meal finished, he poured them both a second glass of wine, which was the most he would give Bellatrix since the incident where she had been sick. He promised her she could have more than two glasses of wine when they were married.
"We aren't married yet, Bella. And you need to be sharp for classes tomorrow."
"I'm so happy that I get to spend forever with you, Master. Can I say something?"
"Hm?"
"I'm a bit worried, because you had a negative reaction the last time when you picked it up from my thoughts."
"Whatever it is, Bella, just say it."
"I love you."
The moment was brought to an almost impossibly painful crisis. She half expected him to cast a confringo and start breaking objects, or give her a lecture on having weakening, sentimental thoughts, or (and this option wasn't so terrible, she supposed) haul her onto his lap for a spanking, but when he did speak, his words surprised her.
"I don't know if I can love anyone. But if I could, it would be you. You're perfect for me."
Bellatrix tilted her chin up at her Master as he pulled her into a soft, gentle kiss. They were quite practiced with aggressive, passionate kissing, but she had not yet experienced his more patient side, and his slow, tempered movements that halted everything in her world and reduced the universe to just two points, two sets of lips; his felt like supple velvet as they brushed against her own. Each tasted to the other like tart black cherries from the wine, and as Bellatrix dragged her tongue across his inner cheek she delighted at the sweetness and liquid minerality. He moved his hand to stroke her temple, and it rested there comfortably as though it was the most obvious place. The pair soaked in each other's insistence and need like it was a medicinal balm. Tom thought that if he could have Bellatrix's small vermillion mouth pressed against him like this for years to come, all the glory and greatness to which he was entitled would follow in due course. With Bellatrix, he could set the whole world to rights.
"My wicked little witch. I think you were created for me. Don't you agree?"
"If you think so, then probably. But do you really believe there is a Creator? I mean, Merlin, was the first truly great sorcerer, but he didn't create the universe. The muggles have their God, who is also Jesus. And the Holy Ghost, even though they stupidly don't believe in ghosts. I learned that in Muggle studies before I dropped the subject in fourth year on the first week of class when I realized it was all lies. But I find it quite hard to believe in any being more powerful than you, Master."
"Mhhm. You have to stop giving me these kinds of answers, Bella. I'm liable to do very terrible things to you. Come to bed with me."
She followed him to the bedroom, and they both stripped off their clothing. She had drunk her first dose of potion that morning, but it took 48 hours to work, so he cast the basic spell to prevent pregnancy. There were, of course, several variations, and some could be cast up to three days later, but with the efficacy decreasing the longer one waited. Still, it reassured her to know that she would soon be more fully protected by the potion.
They ended up tangled in the bedsheets, both panting from exhaustion. Bellatrix wasn't sure if it was because of the powerfully-binding magic she had performed only a couple hours ago, but it seemed like all of her sensations were heightened. He had made her come twice, first with her on top of him, and then as he drove into her while she wrapped her legs around his waist, as he squeezed her breasts or possessively placed his hand over her neck without squeezing. He told her that he did not feel like hurting her or being overly rough with her tonight, and that he simply wanted to feel close to her; he chuckled when she gave him a sad look, and realized that that was just one of many reasons he was marrying the perfect witch for Lord Voldemort.
a/n: I edited some of the dates from chapters 10-11 so that the timeline would make more sense for consistency. This chapter takes place the following Monday after Bella sends her father the letter on Friday (October 11).
I appreciate any reviews, especially with the twist that this chapter contains! How will Bella handle not being able to tell anyone about their engagement? We'll have to wait and see. And I have not forgotten about Andromeda. She will be doing some sneaking around in the next chapter.