"We have to keep our voices down," Voldemort warned Bellatrix, "or else Mrs Malfoy will invite us into the other parlour. She's got the Mulcibers and the Averys over today."
Bellatrix grinned. "Well, if there's one thing I do not want to do today, My Lord, it's socialise. With anyone except for you, that is."
Voldemort smirked as he poured himself a cup of ginger lemongrass tea, and he watched Bellatrix pour herself a cup of mint. They sipped in quiet for a moment as a harsh rain fell outside, and Bellatrix mused,
"It rains whenever we have tea."
"So it does." He tipped his head and sipped his ginger tea. "Have you many friends at school?"
"No," she confessed. "Not really. I've got a few… friendly acquaintances. Sorry. I probably seem quite pathetic."
"No. I didn't have friends, either. Followers, but not friends." Voldemort sipped his tea again. "Friends are grossly overrated, I think."
Bellatrix gave him an odd look, and he knew why. Were they not friends, the two of them? If they weren't friends, what were they? He gulped and set down his tea.
"Why is it that you want to become part of my movement?"
"Because of you," she answered, and he could tell she was being honest. She sipped her mint tea and then explained, "It's all you, Master. I believe in Pureblood supremacy, of course. I believe in what you tell your followers. But most of all, Master, I believe in you, and -"
"Wait. What did you just call me?"
"Master?" she repeated softly, as if she were afraid she'd made some kind of mistake. But Voldemort aimed his wand at the door leading from the parlour to the corridor and whispered,
"Colloportus. Come here."
She set down her tea cup and rose slowly from her chair, looking shaky on her legs. Voldemort sat up slowly and murmured,
"I'm going to make you mine. And I will be your master."
"Yes." She whispered the word, a silver plea on the air, and when she approached him, she was elegance incarnate. He held a hand out to her, a hand steady as a stone, and when she put her fingers into his palm, he brought her closer. He encouraged her to put a knee on either side of his thighs, her skirt sliding up her milky thighs. She took his hands and dragged them along those creamy thighs, those silky thighs, and he tipped his head back a little.
"I will make you mine," he informed her, his voice a wisp in the air. "I will be your master."
"You will be my master." She bent down and kissed his lips like she knew what she was doing, like she was some sort of expert in all of this, though of course she was newer than spring. She pushed her lips against his, pressing, urging, and Voldemort opened his mouth.
Kiss me harder, he thought. Kiss me now.
Her tongue swirled against his, dancing, pulling, and she put her hands to his chest.
Suddenly there was a knocking on the door, and Bellatrix flew back so urgently that she careened into the tea cart and sent teacups and sugar flying.
Voldemort scowled and cleaned up the mess with a flick of his wand, reaching to help Bellatrix stand.
"Sir? Are you in there?" called Abraxas Malfoy, and Voldemort's cheeks went hot as embers. He unlocked the door with another flick of his wand and glared at Bellatrix. He cleared his throat and called,
"Enter."
The door opened, and then the Malfoys and the Mulcibers and the Averys came marching in.
"We thought it would be terribly rude not to invite you," said Mrs Malfoy, "to our early dinner. You simply must join us."
"Oh. Erm… thank you for the invitation, but I think I'll be going home." Bellatrix brushed sugar off of her skirts and reached for a napkin, dabbing at the spilled tea all over her black stocking, the large splotch on her thigh. The others looked amused, as though they knew they'd walked in on something.
"I'll join you for dinner. Thank you," Voldemort said crisply. "See you then. Goodbye."
Malfoy gave a slow nod, as though he knew he'd been summarily dismissed, and when the door shut again, Voldemort said to Bellatrix,
"Should have known better. The Manor is far from private today."
"I apologise, My Lord," she whispered, still dabbing, but he Siphoned up the spilled tea on her and tipped up her chin. He kissed her lips gently and said,
"I'll see you at the meeting."
"The meeting where you'll make me yours," Bellatrix smiled. "Where you'll become my master."
"Yes. That one." He kissed her forehead and kept his lips there. "See you then."
Bellatrix stared at her father across the table in the meeting-room. He did not dare speak a word, but he was obviously confused as to why she was there. Bellatrix just smirked a little. Suddenly the door to the room opened, and everyone stood.
"Sit," commanded Lord Voldemort, and everyone at the table took their seats. Bellatrix felt two dozen eyes upon her, but Voldemort didn't make anyone wait to find out why she'd come.
"This meeting is being held to welcome a new Death Eater into our ranks," he said simply. "Bellatrix. Rise."
She flew to her feet, stumbling a little and hearing titters from a few of the older wizards. She approached Voldemort when he beckoned to her, and she flicked her eyes to her father. His eyes went completely round, and he seemed somewhere between horrified and proud. Cygnus visibly gulped as his daughter stepped up to Voldemort, who pulled back her left sleeve and touched his wand to the inside of her forearm.
"Bellatrix Black," Voldemort said in a smooth voice, "Do you vow to serve me now and forever, in every single capacity you possess, unto death or worse, through torture and agony and bliss? Do you swear it now, before these here gathered, for all eternity? Do you swear it to me?"
"I do swear it, Master," Bellatrix said, and she shivered all over. Voldemort dragged his wand around the inside of her forearm, drawing a beautiful design that etched itself into her flesh into a maroon design that faded darker and darker until it was inky black. Everyone round the table hissed in pain, and then applause broke out. Cygnus Black swiped at tears that had formed in his wrinkled eyes, and Abraxas Malfoy looked not at all surprised.
"Master," Bellatrix murmured, and Voldemort dragged his thumb around her fresh Dark Mark.
"Go sit down," he whispered, and she nodded, bowing low to him. The rest of the meeting consisted of a few business matters - checking in with Ministry positions and the like. Then everyone was dismissed. Everyone except for Bellatrix.
"Stay," Voldemort insisted, and she remained planted in her seat as the room cleared. Her father stared at her over his shoulder as he left, and Voldemort called after him, "Utmost secrecy, Cygnus."
"Yes, sir," Cygnus agreed. He shut the door behind him, and Voldemort muttered,
"Colloportus."
Bellatrix eyed him from where she sat. He licked his bottom lip and folded his hands on the table.
"It was only meant to be dinner and tea," he reminded her. "I made a bargain with your father to get a large donation, and in exchange, I was meant to suffer through dinner and tea with you."
"And did you suffer, My Lord?" Bellatrix asked gently. He shook his head, reaching to cover her hand with his. He laughed a little, almost bitterly, and he said,
"Dinner and tea, and dinner and tea. The Wimbourne Wasps and a kiss at a wedding. A dalliance borne of boredom. And there will be so much more, Bellatrix. So much more."
"There will?" Her eyes went heavy with tears then, and she struggled to suppress them. Voldemort nodded and raised his dark eyes to her, saying in a low hiss,
"This is just the beginning."
THE END
Author's Note: Well, well, well. That was a fun romp, wasn't it? If you follow me as an author, my goal next is to re-read the Storm Series (for continuity's sake) and then write Part III (Thoughts That Would Thick My Blood) at long, long last.
Thanks for indulging me in this fun little go and for the reviews. Feedback is always appreciated.