Finally had enough inspiration/wi-fi to update so… here goes nothing.
What had I done? I didn't even know this man. Lust turned to panic as we pulled away.
My face must have betrayed my internal panic. "I'm sorry, Bellatrix," he said. "If I had realized you didn't want—"
"No," I said. "I mean I didn't not—I did—I wanted you. I wanted to kiss you, I mean."
"Good," he said. "Because I have no desire to hurt you are make you uncomfortable. I'll never ask you to do anything you don't want to."
I was so confused. I had wanted—and still did want—Lord Voldemort. But I wasn't sure how far I was willing to go, or what he expected of me. And why was he wandering in the woods, anyway? Was he just looking for young witches to take advantage of? I felt stupid. Dueling and kissing a complete stranger wasn't me at all.
I tried to imagine telling my sisters of the encounter. Andromeda would lecture me for sure. Narcissa would gush about how romantic it was, or else implore me to 'think of Rodolphus.' Or probably both.
"My lord," I said. It felt right, somehow, to be calling him that. "I don't understand what it is you want from me."
He smiled. "Again, I feel that I should be apologizing to you, Miss Black. You are a powerful, pureblooded wizard. I can't help it that I am drawn to powerful, pureblood wizards… particularly if they are beautiful."
I felt blush creeping into my pale cheeks. I wasn't beautiful. Narcissa was beautiful. Even Andromeda got called cute or pretty. I was always the odd one out, the stubborn older sister, with beat-up black boots and messy dark hair. There had been boys, but they had always been… well… boys. Always silly and immature, never caring about me as a person, only wanting a girl to fool around with, somehow having the idea that I would put out. The only exception was Rodolphus, and it wasn't like I would have a say in that. A Black and a Lestrange. It was a perfect pureblood match. For all I knew, our mothers were sitting in my dining room planning the wedding right now. "Thank you, my lord," I murmured.
"So shy all of a sudden," he said, reaching out and tipping my face back towards his. "You are usually more brash, correct?"
It was like he could see right through me. "I suppose."
"Why?" he asked. "Do I scare you?"
"No," I said. "I mean, I don't think I'm scared, exactly. I just don't know you, or anything about you, or what you want from me."
"I am Lord Voldemort," he said. "I am a very powerful wizard with a fondness for other powerful wizards, and I want nothing more than what you are willing to give."
"How can I know what I'm willing to give if I don't know what you're asking me to give?" I demanded.
He smiled. "I want you, Bellatrix," he explained. "As a… hmm… ally is such an impersonal word, don't you think? But truly, allies are what I need right now. I only wish there were a better word for it; a word more befitting for gorgeous witches."
"Do you wish to be friends?" I asked.
"Friends!" he scoffed. "I've never had friends, never seen the need."
"Maybe you should start," I suggested.
He shook his head. "I don't think that friends will ever be what we are. I am not the sort of person who would pursue a friendship."
"Do you want me for a lover?" I asked.
"There's a word that strikes me as even more foreign than 'friend'," he said.
"You've never had a lover?"
"I've had women," he said. "Scores of them. Ever since I was in school. But I'm not sure I could call any of them a 'lover.'"
Lord Voldemort seemed so sad. What kind of a person had never had friends? I knew what it was like to be an outsider. I was the least favorite of the Black sisters for sure, and I sometimes wondered if people only like me because I was a Black, but at least I had friends. My heart went out to him. I reached my hand up and touched his cheek. "Haven't you wanted one?"
"Love is an interesting concept, Bellatrix," he said, gently brushing my hand away. "I'm not sure if I am capable of it."
"Would you like to try to love?" I asked. I kissed him suddenly. Surprised, he kissed me back, his hands on my waist and mine in his hair. I threw all caution to the wind. So what if he was older? So what if I didn't know him? So what if I was supposed to be with Rodolphus? Rodolphus was so… typical. Expected. And he certainly didn't kiss me like Lord Voldemort.
Things grew heated. We somehow ended up in the brambles just off the path where we had met. When at last we stopped kissing, we sat in silence for a moment. I looked around. The branches had torn my tights up.
Lord Voldemort touched my knee, where the bare skin was exposed through a rip. "Sorry about this," he said.
I shrugged. "They were old. My mother was going to make me throw them out anyway."
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