Set during chapter 25. Warnings: Violence, blood, language and sexy Voldemort.

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Voldemort was far more furious about Rodolphus trying to kill his wife than he ever let on to her. He understood where she was coming from – Rodolphus was a huge asset to his operations and he would definitely be lost without him. But Evan was just as brilliant, and now Bellatrix was doing so well perhaps he could manage.

Half of the trouble he now faced was that he was very much in love with his wife and now found that he hated every moment she spent out killing on his behalf. He was terrified of losing her, a fact he knew he needed to conceal from her for the time being. He had genuinely never expected to worry this much about her, because he had never been in a position to really worry or care about someone.

So he needed to keep Rodolphus alive.

He'd woken early the day after Bellatrix had confessed to him about what had happened and had laid in bed for a while, watching his wife sleep. He had spent ages considering how she would feel if he just got out of bed, right there and then, and found Rodolphus and killed him in the most brutal fashion that he could imagine. But, as he watched her, he realised he could not defy her wishes. She had weakened him to that extent already.

This act of Rodolphus's had been a direct act of defiance towards him. Rodolphus knew that he was married to Bellatrix, and yet he could not let her go. Bellatrix belonged to him, not to anyone else. She was his. Rodolphus didn't seem able to grasp that, let alone accept it. He seemed to think he had some prior claim over her. He did not. And Voldemort was going to ensure Rodolphus realised that tonight.

Voldemort had decided Rodolphus would endure an hour of torture from his peers. He would certainly enjoy watching that as well. It would be good for his wife to see it, to experience how brutal his world could be.

He sat on his throne, feeling fairly tired after his duel with Bellatrix. She was good, not enough to beat him, but enough for him to really struggle to beat her. Considering she'd been duelling properly for little over eighteen months, she was amazing. He had no doubt that she would be able to beat him one day, if she continued improving at the rate she was.

Selwyn was having a turn with Rodolphus. Voldemort was pleased to see a great deal of imagination being brought forward by his death eater's, Rodolphus really was having a difficult time of it. He doubted very much that anyone would dare to go easy on him, when it was clear that Voldemort was angry with him. He smirked slightly, very aware of his power. It was amazing how far he'd come, for a half blood raised in a muggle orphanage. He had performed magic that no other had come close to performing, he had made friends in the highest of places and he had married a woman that most men in society could only dream of marrying. Bellatrix's blood was so pure, it did almost seem a shame to taint it with the blood of his Father.

Almost.

Voldemort noticed Evan was stepping forwards now. He smirked, sitting up slightly in his chair, very glad that he had the best view in the house because someone had dragged Rodolphus closer to him.

"Hello, Rodolphus," Evan said softly, his voice mocking.

Rodolphus opened his eyes, looking up at Evan. "Fuck you, Rosier," he snarled back.

Evan laughed, looking up to Voldemort with a smirk for a moment. Voldemort smiled coldly back.

"Be careful what you wish for," Evan replied, running his knife down Rodolphus's face. "My knife often finds itself in unexpected places."

Rodolphus didn't bother to reply. They all knew Evan wasn't going to do anything as sordid as that. Voldemort could see Rodolphus grit his teeth as Evan started to carve little circles into his arm. As soon as both arms, already nailed to the floor, were little more than a mangled mess, Evan got to his feet, looking down at Rodolphus's face. "Touch my cousin again, and I will almost kill you, and then heal you so that I can let her husband do it to you all over again," he said, his voice soft. He leant over. "And tonight will feel like a walk in the park."

Voldemort was quite pleased that Bellatrix and Evan had developed such a strong relationship. He knew that Bellatrix would be heartbroken if anything ever happened to Evan, and part of him disliked that as he really felt she should only care about him. But on the other hand, Evan was good company, excellent at what he did and he was very protective of his younger cousin. Bellatrix had a habit of getting carried away, and he hoped Evan would help to curb that a little bit.

The next people to step forwards were not so imaginative, and Voldemort started thinking about what Bellatrix would do to Rodolphus. She'd have to do something very different – because that was what she did. He was surprised, not unpleasantly, when she did was Lucius did and refused her turn with a smirk and a shrug. The look that Rodolphus sent her could have killed her.

Voldemort turned his head, looking down at her, ignoring Rookwood as he began his turn. Bellatrix looked back at him, smiling in a triumphant manner. He nodded to her, in absolute approval, and her happy expression in return made all of this worthwhile. He knew that she absolutely lived to please him, and she had done so, spectacularly and surprisingly, tonight.

She was perfect.

He wondered when she would stop surprising him.

After Rookwood had been, the circle was complete. By the looks of Rodolphus, he wasn't going to withstand much more. The floor was red and wet, and there were footprints of blood leading to and from almost every person. He raised his hand. "A lesson learnt," he said, looking down at Rodolphus with a look of intense dislike. He stood, stepping forwards. He could see Rodolphus bracing himself. "Or so I hope," he continued.

Rodolphus's closed eyes and pale skin irritated him for a moment. "Leave us," he snapped, looking up at his followers. He could see Bellatrix leaving the room with Evan and Lucius. When everyone was gone, he stepped forwards to be next to Rodolphus. "You have let yourself down," he said softly after a moment.

Rodolphus opened his eyes, gasping for breath slightly. He moved his legs upwards, like he was trying to kneel.

"No need for that," Voldemort said, shaking his head as he surveyed the mess that was now Rodolphus. He crouched down, dipping his fingers into the blood. He smeared the red liquid onto Rodolphus's face contemplatively. "I do not know what came over you," he said, shaking his head slightly. "If you love her, you'd let her go."

"I don't…" Rodolphus began, but couldn't continue because he started coughing.

"Perhaps," Voldemort replied, understanding Rodolphus's meaning. "But you believe you have a claim over her."

Rodolphus didn't move, and Voldemort understood what that meant because Rodolphus could hardly agree to that, but he couldn't lie either.

"My wife has begged me not to kill you. She believes that you are too valuable for me to destroy." He looked down to Rodolphus's body, wondering how the man was still alive in all honestly. "I hope that you will remember that next time you imagine you have a claim to her. Remember that she holds your life in her hands, Rodolphus. If it was my way, you would be long dead."

With a sudden surge of anger, Voldemort flicked his wand, causing the two nails in each of Rodolphus's hands to be ripped out. Rodolphus groaned in pain, looking over at his hands to check the damage. Voldemort grabbed his face, forcing him to look up at him. "You are not to go near her again. I hope I have made myself clear."

"Yes, m… my Lord…" Rodolphus replied, his voice shaking.

Voldemort stood silently and walked over Rodolphus, leaving the room. Perhaps Rabastan would come back to help him. Perhaps he wouldn't.

If Rodolphus didn't make it through this, Voldemort would not be at all sad. As long as he wasn't the one to finish Rodolphus off for good, Bellatrix couldn't blame him.