Lord Voldemort had never actually awakened next to a witch before.

All of his previous dalliances had been quick and fast, jerky encounters where he'd stayed mostly clothed or had bucked into a woman from behind on some inn bed on the Continent or up against a wall at Hogwarts. This was different.

The night before, Bellatrix had quietly mumbled that she was bleeding, and he'd just shrugged, for that was perfectly natural. Besides, she'd already given him satisfaction in the lounge, and she was drunk. It felt good to have her curl up next to him, to have her breathing slowly on the pillow next to him.

She smelled the way roses smelled at sundown, the way the air smelled just before rain. She was warm and soft and small. He stroked at her curls now, lying on his side facing her in the grey light of the early morning, the window propped open as the birds began to sing outside, and he whispered,

"Bellatrix."

She blinked her eyes open slowly and smiled a little, and he found himself smiling back just a little. He leaned toward her and kissed at her forehead, and he mumbled,

"I have to go. I have a meeting with Avery at eight."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix said dutifully, and he struggled then. It was vaguely painful, wrenching himself away from her, distancing himself from her under the sheets. For a moment, he didn't. He actually threaded his arm round her and held her for a good solid minute, just breathing her in, and he brushed his lips over her cheekbone, realising he'd stripped all the way down to his underwear for lack of pyjamas. He didn't care. He slithered closer to her and kissed her cheek and whispered,

"I'd rather stay."

She giggled gently and held his face. "Then stay."

"I can't. I have to go shave and wash and… mmph. I'd rather stay." He tightened his arm around her, burying his nose into her curls and breathing in, smelling rose and rain and shutting his eyes, feeling genuinely happy as his heart sped up just a bit. He lingered, just holding her, and finally she asked him,

"Is Avery coming here to your office, My Lord?"

"No." He snuggled his face into her hair and told her, "I have to go to his house in Brighton. I've been planning something with him and Nott; they'll both be there. Anyway. I should go. I've got to go -"

"Shave and wash." Bellatrix kissed at his jaw, at his scruff, making him shiver, and he huffed a breath, rubbing between her shoulders. He pulled away at last and slid out of the bed, unashamed of letting her see him messy and tired and wearing nothing but tight black underwear. He started reaching for his discarded trousers, socks, shirt, and robe, and as he pulled his clothes on, Bellatrix lay on her back and watched him shamelessly. He smirked at her as he buttoned up his shirt, and he asked softly,

"Enjoying the view?"

"Yes." She sounded almost hungry, and when he eyed her, she certainly looked hungry. He realised that she desperately wanted him, and that thought made him gulp heavily. She hadn't just craved him before. She desired him now, too. Only, it was better now. It was less blindly sycophantic now. She was sharper now; she was more independent. She'd made up her mind about him in a shorter time, but she was more sure of herself, more willing to be defiant whens he needed to be. He liked her far better like this, with her mind begun afresh. He found himself breathing quickly as he did up his trousers, shoving his shirt into the waist, and he told her quietly,

"I'll speak with Rodolphus. It isn't fair to him… he has no way of knowing."

"He knows." Bellatrix nodded up at him. "He knows how I feel about you. I think he was only behaving that way because he was drunk."

"I told you that I saw into his mind," Voldemort snapped. "I am a Legilimens. I entered his mind from the corridor; he's been perseverating over you for days. He couldn't get hard for Stella a few days ago. It embarrassed him, and she was angry, but he was thinking of you, and he couldn't… anyway."

"Oh." Bellatrix sat up slowly, adjusting the neckline of her loose-fitting black nightgown. "Poor thing. He doesn't know that I'd never sleep with him. Ever."

Voldemort quirked up his mouth and reminded her, "You're his wife. According to wizarding law, if he wants it, you have to give it to him."

Bellatrix's eyes went wide with horror. "He wouldn't do that."

"No. He wouldn't," Voldemort said firmly, "at least in part because i mean to tell him that if he forces you, I'll kill him. And I mean to inform him that your attentions belong to me in every sense, including the physical. He won't argue with me on it; he's a good soldier. He can't help it if he loves you, but he can make good choices."

Bellatrix sighed deeply and asked, "When will you speak with him?"

"This afternoon, after my meeting with Nott and Avery," Voldemort nodded. "I'll send for him. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it."

She glanced out the window, listening to the birds for a moment, and then she said quietly, "Blackbirds and wrens. I know their calls. Strange, the knowledge I retained. I didn't know Andromeda's face when I saw her, but I know the call of a wren."

Voldemort dragged his teeth over his lip and assured her,

"Your mind is full of things. You're hardly empty-headed."

She turned toward him and said,

"You were born on the thirty-first of December, nineteen twenty-six. You went to school with my parents. You were once known as Tom Riddle, but then you went to the Continent to learn all sorts of awful things. You came back here and people began to fear and follow Lord Voldemort. As a teenager, I became enamoured with the idea of you, and you made me your youngest Death Eater. You marked me as yours; I served you with my wand and my soul. I know all of this, but I don't remember any of it. It's as if I learnt it in school. But I don't remember any of that, either."

Voldemort blinked and shrugged. "I wish I could give your memories back. I'm sorry."

"Perhaps it's better this way," Bellatrix suggested. "Am I awful like this?"

"No." Voldemort clasped up his outer robe and shook his head vehemently. "No. You are not. I have to go."

One of the only known domesticated phoenixes, Sparky is the mascot of the Moutohora Macaws Quidditch team. There was some controversy in 1962 when Sparky temporarily flew over the Bay of Plenty and did not seem to want to return. Some advocated that Sparky should be -

Bellatrix set down her copy of Fascinating Facts of Captivating Quidditch History as a sudden searing feeling came over her left forearm. She scowled, for she'd been told that this feeling signaled that she'd been called by Lord Voldemort. She hadn't had much experience Apparating since her memory loss, though she'd practised a few times on the lawn outside with Voldemort. He'd told her that if her Dark Mark burned, he needed her, and she was to shut her eyes and think of him, and that she would Apparate to him at once.

Bellatrix pulled her wand out and stood in the library of Malfoy Manor, adjusting her wispy black sundress and wishing she had put some shoes on. But she didn't have time to go upstairs now and fetch shoes; she'd have to go barefoot. She closed her eyes and thought hard about Voldemort, whipping her body hard to the side and thinking very intently about going to him.

When she came to, she was thrown roughly to the ground. She cried out in pain as her body was tossed against a wall, and she scrambled quickly to get to her feet. Her eyes went wide as she realised she was inside a spacious home, and that there was a small skirmish happening around her.

"Rodolphus!" she exclaimed, for he was lying still and unmoving on the ground. Was he Stunned or dead? She couldn't tell. Bellatrix saw Rabastan duelling a grizzled-looking, short wizard, and there was a young, thin witch throwing hexes at Mr Avery, who was blocking them expertly in the long, sunny corridor beyond Rabastan. Bellatrix could see out in the lawn out front that Voldemort was fighting off at least three or four people at once, so she went dashing out through the kitchen in which she'd landed, ignoring Rodolphus and hoping he was alive. She ran barefoot through the lounge, out past Avery's duel in the corridor. She aimed her wand at the back of Avery's opponent and exclaimed,

"Stupefy!"

She ran out the open front door and saw Voldemort whip his wand toward a white-haired wizard and scream,

"Avada Kedavra!"

The wizard Disapparated just in time, and when he reappeared in another spot, the Killing Curse hit a tree and caused it to catch fire. Bellatrix aimed her wand at the wizard, but he turned on her, and she ducked and shrieked,

"Protego Maxima!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort snarled again, and this time, the green light of his Killing Curse smacked straight into the chest of a ginger-haired young man who was standing opposite him. The wizard crumpled, and a witch went dashing over to the fallen wizard, shrieking in agony.

"Take his body and go, Marbella!" cried the white-haired wizard, whom Bellatrix suddenly realised was Albus Dumbledore. She aimed her wand at him and let her shield down, and she exclaimed,

"Incendio!"

He blocked her Fire-Making spell with a quick flick of his wand, looking almost annoyed, and then he Disapparated again, reappearing up the hill, and he called,

"Tom! Enough! No more death. Give this madness up now."

"Be gone or die, old man!" Voldemort growled. "Avada Ke-"

"Silencio." Dumbledore was calm, and Voldemort's curse died on his lips. He narrowed his eyes at his enemy, whipping his wand and sending a flare of angry sparks at the old man that dissolved against a shield that Dumbledore had sent up. Bellatrix carefully aimed her wand at Dumbledore and whispered,

"Crucio."

Suddenly Dumbledore crumpled to his knees, and his body was wrapped in a web of red light. Bellatrix was surprised by the feel of the curse, by the way it dragged energy out of her. Dumbledore was silent, though his face twisted in pain, and Voldemort cried out,

"Good girl, Bella! Hold it!"

He'd broken free of his Silencing Charm, then. He aimed his own wand at Dumbledore, and she knew he was about to kill his foe, but just as the Killing Curse was about to form on Voldemort's lips, Dumbledore somehow Disapparated out of the middle of being tortured. Bellatrix fell to her own knees, exhausted by the effort of casting the Cruciatus Curse. She panted, staring at the spot where Dumbledore had been, and Voldemort hissed in frustration.

"Bloody fucking coward!" he exclaimed. "Come on; let's go help the others."

He came over to her and pulled her up by her elbow, and as he pulled her toward Avery's house, he mumbled,

"That was well done. Good girl. You're a good girl."

She smiled a little, knowing that he was proud of her. Inside the house, they found Avery standing over the unmoving form of the wizard Bellatrix had Stunned, and Voldemort snapped,

"Kill him and Vanish him. That's Mills; get rid of him immediately."

"Yes, Master," Avery said, and Voldemort stepped into the lounge. He found Rabastan and Rodolphus alone in there, and Rabastan said simply,

"Moody Stunned Rodolphus, Master. I was duelling him, and then he fled when the ones outside did."

"Cowards, the lot of them," Voldemort growled. He looked over his shoulder. "Avery, I'm afraid you'll need to pack your things. Have you got Expanded luggage?"

"Yes, Master," Avery called back. "I'll burn the place to the ground before I leave."

"Good man," Voldemort said simply. Bellatrix realised then just how loyal the Death Eaters were. This was undoubtedly an ancestral home, but Avery was willing to leave it, to destroy it, because his meeting with Voldemort had been discovered and his home had been compromised.

"Where's Mr Nott?" Bellatrix asked, for she'd thought he was meant to have been at this meeting. Voldemort huffed a sigh.

"Avery, go check on him. He took a nasty Jelly-Brain Hex early on; he's going to need that Shacklebolt Healer. No St Mungo's, obviously. Well done, the three of you, coming as reinforcements. Let's get out of here. Avery, get your things packed up and get this place burning. Get Nott to the Shacklebolts'."

"Yes, Master," Avery said, walking into the lounge. "Mills is gone."

Voldemort nodded crisply. "Right. Let's go, before anyone else shows up."

"Rodolphus. Come in and sit." Voldemort gestured to the chair opposite his desk in his office. Rodolphus smiled a little and came in, and Voldemort said crisply, "That was a well-fought skirmish earlier. A shame about Avery's house, but… well, their loss. Mills, Prewett. Dumbledore took a good bout of a Cruciatus from Bella."

Rodolphus' eyes went wide. "She cast a Cruciatus Curse?"

"She did indeed." Voldemort folded his hands on the desk. "Enough about the battle. I didn't call you here about the battle."

Rodolphus' boy-like features looked surprised. "Is something wrong, Master?"

Voldemort cleared this throat and said carefully,

"You have Stella Nott. She needs to be enough for you."

Rodolphus suddenly seemed to understand. He glanced at the bookshelf beside him, and he admitted with caution in his tone,

"I… was not expecting to feel this way about her. I never felt this way about her before."

"That is of no consequence to me," Voldemort said stiffly. "Your feelings are of no consequence to me. If you attempt to coerce her into relations…"

"I would never," Rodolphus insisted, but Voldemort met the boy's eyes and finished,

"I will kill you myself."

Rodolphus blinked and nodded. He visibly gulped and said,

"I was a fool to ask to kiss her. I know she doesn't want it. I know she doesn't want me. I am very well aware of what - who - Bellatrix wants. And I will honour that, Master. I swear it. I will be her husband, and I will be her friend, and I will be your servant. No more. No less. I promise you both that."

"Good man." Voldemort coughed quietly and turned his chair toward the window. "You may go."

He heard the rustle of Rodolphus' robes as he stood, and then he sensed hesitation. Rodolphus said quietly,

"Master, may I say something?"

"If you must," Voldemort clipped, and Rodolphus seemed to be measuring his words as though his life depended on it. It did, in a way.

"My Lord, I consider myself remarkably lucky to be Bellatrix's husband, but if I never laid a finger upon her again, I would know very well why, and I would understand entirely. And I hope you know that I want nothing more than her happiness, and my entire life is devoted to serving you. I know well where I stand."

Voldemort just stared out on the lawns, the way Bellatrix so often did, and he said again,

"That was a well-fought skirmish, Rodolphus. I do hope you were not injured when you were Stunned."

"I'm perfectly fine, Master," Rodolphus said. "Good day."

"Good day," Voldemort said, and he listened to Rodolphus' footsteps, then to the office door open and shut.

Author's Note: Mwah hahaha. Take that, Dumbledore. And now that everyone's clear on where they stand, a few doors are opened, no? What's next for the Pensieve? Things could get interesting in there. :}