This chapter caused me a considerable amount of trouble, since, for the past 10 days, I have tried to upload it, to no avail.

However, it has been uploaded now. A few notes:

This chapter didn't go exactly the way I had planned it. I had to cut about 3,000 words because they just seemed clumsy, and out of place. Thus, and entire (and very important) scene has been cut out. However, it will be replaced by something else in the future chapters.

Bella is nineteen at the time of this chapter.

Enjoy! And please leave some feedback.

Chapter 6

Determination

Winter had spread its cold fingers throughout the country, and its presence could be seen everywhere. Snow, white and pure, fell from the sky, bringing delight and misery to children and homeless ruffians respectively. Christmas was drawing near, and although it was a religious festival, and the Wizarding World did not believe in religion, centuries of its celebration had caused it to become somewhat of a general celebration, and thus, it was celebrated almost universally in the western hemisphere, even among Wizarding households.

It was custom among the upper echelons of society that each prestigious household throw a Yuletide party, and it had been adhered to for decades. The custom in the Lestrange house, however, had been broken with the entrance of its newest member, Bellatrix, and although old Mrs. Lestrange had quite a strong personality, there were few that could match Bellatrix's fire. And thus, going along with her will, silly little celebrations such as Christmas had been postponed, as the new mistress of the Manor found it beneath her to be responsible for such mindless frivolities. Rodolphus had been angry with her persistence, but he knew, as did all the others who knew his wife, that she was uncontrollable. She despised everyone in his household already, with the sole exception of Rabastan, with whom she seemed to have formed a perverse bond. The two could often be seen together in his library, reading some or the other great work that pertained to the ideals of blood purity.

Ever since Bella had stepped into the Lestrange household, the house had been irreparably changes. The post of authority, originally in the hands of Rodolphus, what with his father being often gone to tour for medical remedies abroad, had now shifted, and no one was sure with whom it rested anymore. Old Mrs. Lestrange, formerly a strong figure of authority, was now cowed by her strong, opinionated daughter-in-law and spent most of her time abroad shopping, where she sometime bumped into Lara Black. Old Mr. Lestrange had been diagnosed with a genetic defect caused by excessive inbreeding that caused him to develop symptoms similar to the Muggle disease dementia, and thus he was considered unfit for being in-charge of all the Lestrange investments. Thus, Rodolphus, being the eldest, was the de facto leader, and it was his word that was considered law generally. However, ever since Bella had arrived, her open defiance of her husband's wishes and free-willed manner had somewhat undermined his authority. Thus, the question of leadership was somewhat up in the air.

It amused Rabastan to no end that matters had come into such a head like this. Being born as the younger son, he had resentfully watched his elder brother receive all the privileges of life while he, Rabastan, received little in the form of remuneration. Now that he was of age, he spent his time wallowing in an extravagant house that his mother had dotingly gifted him upon him graduating Durmstrang.

Rabastan found great pleasure in the fact that Bella preferred him infinitely to his brother, not only because of the irony in the situation (since Rodolphus had taken what Rabastan believed to be rightfully his, and now Rabastan had the one thing that Rodolphus could claim as his own), but also because he gained the company of a beautiful woman. He had, at first, thought that Bella would enjoy some other company in bed, but when he had broached the topic, he had been turned down. Since then, he had somewhat come to realize that Bella valued his company not only to defy and taunt his elder brother, but also because she genuinely enjoyed discussing the values of a pureblood lifestyle and Wizarding history with him.

All this, Bella knew about Rabastan, not because he had told her, but because she had somewhat picked up the ability to read people. It was easy, almost effortless, to guess the patterns of thought between her husband and his brother, they were so very predictable. She almost didn't have to try it at all.

Yuletide for Bella was a sore subject this year, as this would not only be her second Christmas since her marriage, but also the fourth year since she had seen Sirius during Christmas. Her lips, beautifully red, startling in her pale, ivory face, pursed unhappily as she remembered the recent rumours of what her former love was up to. Although she would love him forever, she could not help but consider him to be a little misguided. It was all Aunt Walburga's fault, she thought angrily sometimes, her cruelty and disrespect for her elder son had turned Sirius into a vehement blood-traitor. He had grown up believing that all the purebloods were insane, like his mother. That, and the company of that spoilt brat James Potter had all but done it for him, and now he was lost to her forever.

The last she had heard of Sirius, he had been seen with the so-called Order that was popping up as a defense against the Dark Lord. Although Bella was not yet a member of the movement – no woman was – she fully supported it, and intended to join it someday. It pained her that Sirius, her cousin and beloved, and more importantly, a pureblood from the House of Black, had turned his back on his own family so completely. Surely, he was misguided, but this decision of his could potentially ruin him forever – if she did not help him now.

She had, in the last year, become exceedingly bored with life. The hustle-bustle of Hogwarts, the constant pressure of classes and exams and homework, was missing in this cold, empty Manor, with its below par residents. The only one she considered fit for conversation was her brother-in-law, Rabastan, and even he visited sparingly. She often roamed its corridors, lined with so many beautiful paintings and works of art, bored out of her mind. She would have gone out, but there was no one to visit – Dromeda and Cissy were still in school, and Lara Black believed that young women should stay and wait on their families after marriage, not to mention the fact that she was mostly in Paris or Rome or Milan, staking out the new fashions with an appraising and experienced eye.

To say that Bella had few friends at Hogwarts would be an understatement, since she had no friends at all. The ice-princess of Slytherin had chosen to remain aloof, considering no one except her sisters to be worthy of her company. The sole exception to this – Sirius – had, of course, not been able to intermingle with her as openly as friends do. They had many stolen moments together, but in public, while not exactly enemies, they had been unable to have anything more than a passive attitude to each other.

Thus, after Hogwarts, Bella found herself quite bereft of company. She terrorized her mother-in-law too much to ever think of friendship with the older woman, and her true passions lay in the direction of her heritage anyway. If there was one subject on which Bella could speak for hours on end, it was not Charms or Potions or any other school subject (although she was exceptionally talented at all), but rather, the rich history and heritage of purebloods. The Cause that Lord Voldemort – as he preferred to be called – had chosen was dear to her heart, and she supported it wholeheartedly. She could not help but think of how lovely it would be to take part in it herself, to have her name and magic and blood be put to use in a crusade against the filth that cluttered their society, and longed to be a member – one of those exclusive Death Eaters. Rabastan, she knew, was already a member – she had seen the black skull tattoo, so very powerful – on his forearm, and her own husband, Rodolphus, was in line for it. But she herself, who was so much more infinitely talented to both of them, could not enter, simply because she was a woman.

She frowned at that thought. Surely, the Dark Lord was mistaken in that aspect. It was, after all, not his fault. He had, so far, only come across "ordinary" pureblood women – women like Pertha Parkinson, who flittered about with their beaux and fiancés and whatnot, discussing fashion and idly gossiping. Truly devoted women, like Bellatrix herself, were hard to find, and Bella believed that indeed she was the only one who could take on the burden of the duty that the Dark Lord would place on her shoulders.

And would place it tonight.

It was a few days before Yuletide, and the Averys were holding a lavish function at their house today. All the creamy layer of society would be present, and so would the Dark Lord, from what she had overheard as what was clearly meant to be a confidential conversation between Rabastan and Rodolphus. Apparently, Rodolphus was due to be sworn in as a member today, at Avery Manor. Originally, she had wondered as to the location, but then later realised that it was the perfect foil – not only would the members have a legitimate reason to be there, but also, no one would ever suspect them of being there. In case some blithering Ministry fool did walk in on them, he would be unarmed, unprepared, and easily overtaken and disposed off.

And it was this meeting in which she planned to meet the Dark Lord for the first time.

She knew that she would get no help with her objective. Rodolphus and Rabastan would both laugh at her, and she knew not who else to trust. Lucius, dependable as always, was already one of the members – he had been initiated the very week that school had let out – but she did not know whether she could depend on him. Although she (somewhat) trusted him, he had not been very pleased with her as of late, due to the… circumstances… surrounding her marriage, and might, after all, reveal her secret to her father, and then the repercussions would be severe. So she endeavoured to go it alone.

At this very moment, she was dressing for the ball. Bella's taste was impeccable, something she had inherited, and without fail highlighted her lovely features. Her dress, a deep wine red, made her ivory skin seem even more radiant than usual, and brought out her dark eyes and ruby lips. A string of expensive pearls hung around her neck, no other piece of jewellery except for her much-hated engagement and wedding rings adorning her body. She herself was a jewel – people's eyes were drawn to her no matter what.

She looked ravishing, a fact that was not lost on Rodolphus when he saw her for the first time. Smiling sardonically, he asked her "Whom are you planning to seduce tonight, my darling?"

The question was normal enough for him, but Bella, who had been thinking of how she would gain with the Dark Lord was momentarily distracted, and that was enough to flare her anger. She directed such a look of pure hatred at her husband that even he, who was used to her contempt, was surprised and disconcerted. He was now becoming used to her vitriolic nature, and indeed, thought that it was somewhat necessary that a woman of such beauty to balance out the perfection in her. Certainly, her nature was as far from perfect as possible.

Bella's temper, however short a leash it may be on, was everlastingly patient and passive with her sisters. When she met them for the first time since they had returned, inside the Avery's ballroom, she could not help but show them both signs of affection. They were, after all, her own flesh and blood, and the only ones who had loved her constantly and never tried to exploit her, which could not be said for her parents. They were also younger to her, and, as a result of Lara's childhood neglect, she felt responsible for them both, although they were scarcely one and two years younger to her respectively.

Before, she had constantly been in the presence of her sisters, whether at Hogwarts or at home. However, since last year, she had seen them exceedingly less. Although Dromeda had graduated this year, she had, at the request of her mother, spent the past six months with her in Paris. Although Cygnus would usually have objected at this fine waste of opportunity – he intended to get his daughters married off as soon as they passed out, to rid him of an unnecessary burden – in this case, he had relented, because the Rosiers, the family he was trying to wrangle a proposal out of, were spending the remaining half of the year in France, and he hoped that old Mrs. Rosier would bump into Lara from time to time.

This vacation did not seem to have done Dromeda any good, Bella noted as she took in her younger sister, immediately registering the vacant eyes and the rather hollow, lost expression. Dromeda looked almost as though she felt out-of-place, although this could not be the matter – she had been coming to functions such as these before she could even walk.

Narcissa noticed the worried frown that marred her sister's worried face as she took in Dromeda's vacant expression, and ventured a remark. "She's been like this ever since she got back," she whispered, leaning rather close to her elder sister. She was dressed in a fine blue silk gown, and her arms were decorated with numerous jewels. She looked like an angel, gracing the earth with her beauty. "And she's been writing a lot of letters, too. She started writing letters the instant she stepped in. And she won't tell me who she was writing too." A pout formed on her face. On almost everyone else, it would have served as a deterrent to her beauty – on Cissy, it only highlighted it.

Bella was curious about her younger sister's strange behavior, but before she could comment upon it, she was dragged into a perfunctory hug with her mother. Larissa Black had no special love for her children, except a vague sense that perhaps she should care for them more, but she had been brought up to keep with appearances. As a mother seeing her only married daughter after so very long, she had to appear concerned and rather elated at their reunion. She made a few casual enquiries of Bella, asking after Rodolphus' health and habits, and although the replies received were satisfactory, she could not help but be a little disconcerted. Perhaps, if she had been a more concerned and observant mother, she would have noticed that Bella was distracted, but Lara was barely an adequate mother, and long detachment had led her to practically forget that she had children. Even then, Bella was her least favourite – she was too dark, too Black, to be her favourite. Lara's family was traditionally fair, and as a result, she was most attached to Narcissa, if her vague sense of affection could be called attachment at all. Even for Andromeda, the Ugly Duckling in the family received a little – very little – amount of love, which was really only pity. Lara, so gloriously beautiful herself, recognized that Andromeda, while startlingly beautifully in comparison with anyone not a Black, was the most uncomely in her family.

But it was Bella, startlingly lovely Bella, who Lara felt virtually no affection for. Although Bella was beautiful, and intelligent too, she was just too strong for Lara's tastes. Lara had been brought up in a world where the women were subservient to men, and always walked a pace behind them, and had, however ineffectually, attempted to teach her daughters the same during fractured intervals. Narcissa, so alike her mother in spirit and looks, took to the idea easily enough, and always remembered to apply it. Andromeda was silently sullen, and although Lara could not discern whether she had followed her teaching, the girl always behaved in front of her. But it was Bella, strong, willful Bella, who abjectly rejected the theory, instead insisting that women were equal to men, and did not need to be subservient. Lara, shocked beyond measure at this argument, tried to groom the girl into proper thinking, and at this refusal, had forbidden her any form of entertainment or any visits for a month. She was not even allowed to receive visitors in her own home.

This punishment would have shocked a child like Narcissa, who thrived on company, and even discomfited Andromeda, who had a fair appetite for it. But for Bella, who cared nothing for school-friends, it was like water rolling off a duck's back. Her only fear, however, had been that when Sirius came to visit, she would be banned his company as well, but he managed to defy all rules and sneak in to meet her anyway

Larissa never knew what Bellatrix would do next – she was the most unpredictable, the most volatile of her daughters. Nobody knew what she was going to do next. She didn't have a fixed pattern, and she was reckless almost to the point of being suicidal. Lara would have worried, but she did not care about Bella enough to waste her time worrying about her.

The evening, to the Averys pleasure, went exactly as planned. The food was delicious, and was praised, somewhat grudgingly, by Walburga Black herself (although she was quick to insert a comment on how the Black family dinners were infinitely better). The company was acceptable, the music was played by the finest string quartet, and news was exciting enough to never cause a lack of topics to discuss. Everyone was pleased, and Cissy nearly clapped her hands in delight, refraining only because it was unseemly. Even Andromeda somewhat recovered her spirits, and eventually managed a rather wobbly smile.

Only Bellatrix was distracted throughout the evening, her lack of alertness caused not only by keeping an eye out for signs that the Death Eaters were convening, but also by her sister's obvious detachment. She was so concerned for Andromeda, in fact, that she followed her sister throughout the evening, trying to discern whether there was any obvious reason for Andromeda's unusual behavior. Dromeda, apart from her disinterest, seemed to be pleasant enough. She conversed quite enthusiastically with the elder Mrs. Yaxley, ensuring that the old lady did not feel at unease. But then again, this was just who Andromeda was – although the least attractive of the Black girls, she had the unique ability to make almost anybody and everybody like her. This was not to say that she was perfection in itself, and could, in fact, be shockingly selfish and childish if she wished, but she had a certain charm that appealed to prospective mother-in-laws. Cygnus, ever the observant man, had noticed this about her almost instantly, and, relieved, began to market her to elderly ladies with eligible sons at once.

Andromeda's behavior haunted Bella's mind. She had always been delicate, and introverted. She was the sister who worried Bella the most, for, despite being considerably selfish and single-minded, she did love her family to a certain extent. For her father, she had a sort of muted love. He had, after all, sold her off as if she was a pawn, but, on the other hand, he was a Black, and being a Black demanded respect. She despised him to a certain extent, but that disgust was mixed with admiration, and, unfortunately, an obligatory form of love.

Her mother inspired nothing but indifference from Bella. While earlier, her repeated neglection had aroused anger, disgust, and even fear, now that she was older and had spent such a long time without that protective covering of motherly love, she could not care less about whatever was going on in that quarter. A small part of her still burned with jealousy because of Lara's obvious preference for her youngest daughter, but that part had long been quashed with indifference, and repeated assurances from people of how much they adored her.

Her sisters were another matter altogether. Being burdened with the task of looking after them from a young age, she had developed a sort of quasi-motherly instinct towards them. Narcissa, beautiful, flighty, and irresponsible, incited disapproval, and a wish for her younger sister to be more mature, and responsible. Andromeda, however, was entirely a different case. She was almost painfully introverted, an anomaly for a Black, and had few friends. Her manners were muted, her behavior in accordance with what was expected of her. She was the most neglected member of her family, for her elder sister was the favourite of her father, the younger of her mother. Andromeda faded in the background, overshadowed by the brilliancy of her sisters, but no one knew whether or not she was content to be there. Her face was mostly impassive, to the extent of being unreadable, and her words always carried an element of half-truth, as if she was concealing her real thoughts in her mind. She was, perhaps, the most unpredictable of them all, and thus, no one could predict the ticking time bomb that grew inside her.

So distracted was Bella with thoughts of Andomeda's stranger-than-usual behavior, that she did not even notice her husband and brother-in-law slip out from the room. What she did manage to notice, however, was when they strode back in, anger evident on Rabastan's face, and Rodolphus looking sullen and in pain, rubbing his left forearm gingerly. The image, however, made no sense, until she put two and two together, and came up with the right answer.

Rage rose in her throat. She almost sprinted out of the grand room, and down the vast, empty corridors. But no matter how hard she tried, how much she searched, she could not find out where the meeting was being – or was – held.

Frustrated, she cast a Homenum Revelio spell. There was nothing. She felt despair, until she considered the fact that the Dark Lord may have had defensive spells against that particular charm, and, with a renewed enthusiasm, scoured the castle anew. But, despite her efforts, there was not a single person to be found in the Manor.

Finding herself on the balcony, she quickly darted out and took note of all the guests. Malfoy – Nott – Crabbe – yes, all of them were there. All the people whom she knew to be confirmed Death Eaters were eating and socializing with the rest of the crowd. This meant that the meeting was over.

She felt a scream building up in her throat, a scream of pure frustration, but, in a remarkable achievement for her, she controlled it – at least for the time being. It was to come out later, when she was undressing herself, and was to rebound across the marble corridors of Lestrange Manor.

She had been foiled once, and it was entirely her fault. She had not paid attention, had not been alert enough to achieve her goal, but it would not happen next time. Next time, she would track down the Dark Lord, and offer her mind, body, and allegiance in his service, for him to do with it what he pleased. She would show her abilities, convince his that she was, after all, much better than any of these fools, that they were all inferior to her, and she would win his favour, his Mark. She did not care for what any of those stupid, chauvinistic fools would say, and she was sure that he did not either, for he was their Lord and Master. She knew that she was better than any one of them, and she was determined to prove it. Next time, next time she would surely confront the Dark Lord, and achieve her heart's desire – become a member of the Death Eaters, the organization created solely for the purpose of purifying their society and reestablishing the name of the purebloods in ink that was made out of blood.