Chapter 5:

A Black Wedding

The bride's traditional red dress at the wizards' wedding was a symbol of her love for her husband and her future children, of being the fire that nourishes the family, and of the blood and pain that motherhood and marriage would demand from her.

Bella didn't know much about all that, but she certainly liked the dress. It was majestic, with black diamonds adorning its low cut collar, and the hem that spilled on the floor like a pool of blood. She liked the goblin- made diadem that used to belong to her mother, and the way it made her black eyes seem bright and full of life. But the wedding gift she loved most was an ancient wand, a long dark artifact adorned with gloden viens that had passed down her family for generations. It was supposed to go to the first born son, but as her parents had only girls, and Andromenda had run away, the right to it was Bella's now. It made her feel important and powerful.

She picked up the hem of her dress as Rodolphus led her down the marble stairs. Her wedding guests stood at their feet, waiting for the bride's awaited appearance.

"You look marvelous," her future husband said to her, his voice full of promise.

"I know," she replied.

He was a tall man, well built, with olive colored skin, dark brown hair and a matching, groomed beard. His eyes where a catlike yellow- green, and there was an exhilarating passion in them, as if their owner saw the world as a joke that only he could understand. Bella found it extremely appealing – Rodolphus Lestrange was a man who never let life get boring.

The wedding guests gave way as they passed through the hall. Bella could easily get used to being the mistress of that house, a role she would have exclusively once her mother in law, now the cause of the slowness of their steps, would generously liberate them from her existence. Bella heard the old hag muttering malicious complaints and vicious gossip in her younger son's ear as she limped with irritating slowness after the bride and groom, and hoped that the day wasn't far away.

Familiar faces flickered in her direction among the sea of guests around her. She didn't like most of them, but gave everyone the same smile – a smile of satisfaction that couldn't be repressed by her new and exciting status. Between the faces she saw her aunt Walburga, who looked as though she was wearing a black turtle's armor on her head, watching the wedding march with a sour look. Close to her heels, as always, crawled Regulus.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Regulus quickly looked down as if burned by a flame.
Bella choked a smirk at his frightened reaction. Honestly, she had to say that her aunt and uncle had done a particularly poor job of raising their children; One was attractive but rebellious, the other obedient and wretched. But she had always had a soft spot for the younger Black; In her most clear childhood memories, which were very few, she had been tormenting little Regulus or trying to instigate his brother against him.

The ballroom doors opened for them. The guests dispersed as Bella and her future husband walked to the front of the hall. Bella wondered whether she should feel any excitement, and concluded that the exciting part of the day would only begin if she could survive the boring ceremony.

"We have gathered here today," the old wizard began in a squeaky voice. "In order to witness the formation of the magical bond between Rodolphus of the House of Lestrange and Bellatrix of the House of Black. We bless this union in the name of the descendants that will be born after this day, and the names of our forefathers. We shall be proud to witness the cultivation of a new generation of pure wizards and witches..."

Bella's thoughts wandered. She didn't know what was more boring, the content of the speech or the way the old man stretched and tugged at the words as if an important part of the ceremony was the precise pronouncement of each syllable.

Finally, at the end of the tedious historical speech, came the slightly more interesting part. Rodolphus turned to her and promised to be a devoted husband, to take care of her needs and the needs of their children and to protect her and them from any harm. Bella recited her side of the bargain; To be a faithful wife, to fulfill her obligations to the house and the family, and to bring into the world strong and obedient children. She did so only out of duty, of course, because she saw no point in reciting words that no one obeyed anyway.

Then the old man approached the golden cauldron on the podium that stood in front of Bella and Rodolphus. One of the boys who helped him in the ceremony came with a tray leaden with various potion ingredients. The old man declared each of the ingredients before ceremoniously tossing it into the cauldron, where they swirled while another boy stirred the potion.

Bella watched the fluid, which was a murky gray, like storm clouds swirling over the horizon. There was no smell, but it spread a sort of glow... No, a glow wasn't the right word to describe the aura surrounding the cauldron. It was the opposite of light – not darkness, but a liquid shadow that made the hall seem dim instead of bathed in light. An ominous black cloud covered Bella's heart.

"And now, the final ingredient," the old man announced loudly in a voice that sounded like it was about to break, like the tension in the air before a storm. "The Blood of Promise."

Rodolphus reached his hand over the cauldron. Bella put her hand on top of his. Suddenly she was amazed by the stability and strength of the wide hand under her fingers, and by the grace with which her long white fingers came in contrast to the rough skin of the man beside which she would stand for the rest of her life.

A silver knife cut both of them with one slice. Two different types of blood bubbled out of the long, common incision. The pain was nothing more than a distant tickle in the back of her head; She was so engrossed in the mesmerizing harmony of the strange and beautiful scene before her that everything else was pushed aside.

A drop of blood dripped into the cauldron, and the stormy clouds changed their color to deep sunset red. The liquid was poured into a golden goblet. Rodolphus took a long gulp from the potion, then put the goblet to Bella's lips.

The potion was hot and bitter, bringing tears to her eyes. She swallowed it reluctantly, feeling it trickle into her stomach and filling her nose with fumes. When she finished she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

A light sensation flooded her, as if she was under the influence of a drug, and the place and situation in which she was were insignificant in her empty, happy consciousness. Then darkness took over in a flash, and went away as suddenly as it had come. It may have lasted less than a second in reality, but in Bella's mind it had been hours; She had been enveloped in a peculiarly dark dream, which slipped deep into the shadows of her consciousness as soon as she returned to reality.

Rodolphus cupped the back of her neck and kissed her. The kiss was light, insignificant as the beating of a bee's wings in Bella's confused consciousness. Before she realized what was happening, she found herself being led by Rodolphus outside the hall. She tried to hold on to the edge of her dream, but it slipped out of her fingers like frozen water, leaving her feeling distraught.

Before the wedding, Bella had heard all sorts of nonsense about the magical purpose of the potion – that it created a magical bond between the newlyweds, that it was poison that would take effect if they were to be unfaithful, and even that it gave the one who drank in a glimpse into the future. In her opinion it was nothing more than a collection of disgusting substances meant to make it clear to the bride and groom that their marriage was going to be bitter and repulsive. But now she wasn't so sure anymore. She couldn't shake the proximity of a dark, powerful presence that accompanied her in her vision, that slipped away as she tried to hold on to it and kept lurking in the shadows of her mind. Outside, the summer sun shone brightly and the wedding banquet began immediately. Soon she forgot all about the disturbing vision, the celebration chasing it away.

She was sited next to Rodolphus at the head of the table, under a golden tent that was erected at the center of the garden. She feasted on fat black grapes, savoring the way the thin skin of the fruit ripped in her mouth and filled it with its sweet purple flesh, as she listened halfheartedly to the guests who had come to congratulate her and her husband. It was a funny name, husband. Bella rolled the word in her mind while the man's arm was wrapped around her waist, until it lost its purpose and became a heap of meaningless syllables.

To her left sat her parents, listening to the congratulations with the constant coolness they always displayed in public. To Rodolphus' right sat his mother, filling her plate with appetizers, nibbling on selected crumbs, and leaving the rest wasted.

"Now the Rosiers' will approach," she croaked in her son's ear. "Don't say anything to them. Remember they refused to engage their daughter to Rabastan..."

"I thought you disliked them because of the rude compliment Mr. Rosier had given you at the last annual ball," Rodolphus replied casually. Bella didn't miss the hidden mocking in his voice. She gave a snort of laughter. The mean old woman glared at her.

"The greatest virtue of a good wife is reticence," she said to her son, as if Bella were an unruly puppy in need of taming.

"So you probably weren't a very good wife for your late husband?" Bella mocked.

The old woman pursed her pale lips. The Rosiers approached the table after placing their gift in the right place. Mr. Rosier cleared his throat and was about to start a speech that was expected to be very tedious, but old Mrs. Lestrange had her own plans to give someone an earful.

"Ungrateful bitch," she said to Bella venomously, ignoring the presence of the guests. Everyone around fell silent and listened. "Don't you see what charity our family has done for you? A lesser family wouldn't have taken in a prostitute such as you, even for descendants with Black blood in their veins!"

"Mother – " Rodalphus warned in a low voice.

"Quiet, Rodolphus. Watch and learn. Someone has to teach you how to train this bitch."

Rodolphus fell silent as she commanded, sulking like a beaten, bad-tempered dog. Bella's parents didn't try to stand up for her, but she expected nothing more than an embarrassed silence from them. On the far side of the table, Narcissa lowered her flushed face while her fiance watched his future sister-in-law's humiliation with pleasure.

"You will learn, dear, not to mention my late husband's name with anything but respect. Moreover, you will learn not to mock me. Do not forget I am still the lady of this house."

"Not for long," Bella grumbled.

"Excuse me?" Demanded Mrs. Lestrange, straightening up like a cobra preparing to bite.

"I said – " Bella removed Rodolphus' loose grip over her waist and stood up, pulling her new- ancient wand and pointing it at her old mother in law. Hot sparks flew from its tip. "Not for long!"

The guests panicked. Several members of Rodolphus' family prepared to take cover under the table. Bella would have cursed the old woman – by Merlin, she would have done it – had it not been for the cool, authoritative voice that spoke then.

"Enough."

A man in a black dress robe approached the table with a sure stride, as if the garden and everything around it belonged to him. The Rosiers, who were standing there watching the spectacle in shock, fell to their knees as if they had been struck. Next to Bella, Rodolphus suddenly jumped to his feet, and even his mother made an effort to rise.

Bella's arm fell to her side as she watched the stranger. The other guests were quick to imitate the groom, rising to their feet in front of the table or kneeling like the Rosiers. Guests who had been seated farther away came closer to kneel in front of that man, attracted to him like moths to a flame. He treated them as if they were nothing more than these moths, small creatures whose existence hardly interested him. He scanned the main table and Bella felt his gaze stop on her. Black flames burned her skin, and she realized who was standing in front of her.

He was younger than she thought he would be. She imagined the Dark Lord as a wicked old wizard, a dark reflection of Albus Dumbledore. Instead the man in front of her had barley one sliver strand in his combed black hair. His face was cold and clean shaven like that of a marble statue, and his back was straight, proud and dignified. Bella looked forward to seeing ancient ceremonial runes and magical tattoos decorating his clothes and skin, but his appearance was simple, modest, and perfectly normal.

"Blessings for your wedding day," he said, as if he hadn't stopped the bride from cursing her mother-in-law just a moment ago.

"Thank you, my Lord," replayed Rodolphus, bowing. Then he took Bella's hand firmly, implying her to do the same. She bowed her head, but didn't take her eyes off the Dark Lord.

"I have no words to describe the honor your presence brings us on our wedding day, my Lord," said Rodolphus, barely managing not to stammer. Bella felt a certain disappointment at his slumbering behavior, and on the other hand, awe at the man whose presence alone caused him to lose his legendary composure.

"Arabus Lestrange was a great man, an idol of a pure blood wizard," said the Dark Lord. "The day his son is married in order to continue the lineage of pure wizards, who will be raised in the best example of ancient tradition, must to be a day of joy for every wizard who respects his ancestors. I feel satisfaction, even pride, to see the son of one of my most enthusiastic supporters walk in the way of his father. You bring honor to your family and your people."

"Thank you, my Lord," Rodolphus said and bowed again. Bella imitated him, feeling slightly proud, as if the words of praise were also directed at her. "If I may, I would like offer my brother and myself, the sons of Arabus Lestrange, to your personal service."

The words left a tension in the air. It seemed that everyone was waiting eagerly for the Dark Lord's reply, either from curiosity or jealousy. Lucius Malfoy crossed his arms in dissatisfaction, while Narcissa took advantage of his lack of attention to return to the foul habit of biting her nails when stressed. Rodolphus' mother seemed to hold her breath. Bella hoped she would suffocate. She herself felt like a lonely person in a sculpture garden, looking at the ridiculous decorations around her calmly. Did any of them really have any doubt that the Dark Lord will grant this obsequious request? Powerful people lived for these moments. Their true power was not due to great magic or dangerous knowledge, she knew; It came from their ability to make people around them afraid.

Her wandering gaze met a pair of black eyes. Suddenly she realized that she wasn't alone in the sculpture garden, but was walking beside the Dark Lord himself. She looked into the sealed face, wary yet fascinated, like a person reaching out to stroke the beautiful, sleek scales of a snake. She felt empowered by the realization that he found the matter as amusing as she did, as if they were equals.

The Dark Lord began walking toward the table, his steps easy, catlike. Bella never felt the way she did as she watched him approach, like she was prey and he a predator, and for some unnatural reason she didn't want to run away from him. He stopped before the bride and groom so that only the table separated them, looking up at them in their place on the platform; It was almost as if they were the masters and he the servant. But the illusion was so delicate and slender that a single word shattered it and reminded them that the person standing before them didn't need a throne or a stage to be superior to them.

"I shall accept your service," he said. "In your father's memory, and for your devotion to me."

He looked at Rodolphus, then at Bella. She felt him examine her, measure her. She shivered in the warm air. For a moment she felt that he was looking at her the way Rodolphus looked at her – a look that was all passion. The feeling frightened and excited her at the same time, and all she wanted was more of it.

Then he turned on his heel and Appearted. The guests stayed where they were, confused by the sudden departure. The Dark Lord disappeared from the sunny day like a thick shadow escaping the sun, slipping away from the knowledge of those around him.

Their wedding day had become a double celebration. The Dark Lord's agreement to accept the brothers in his service gave their mother more joy than the marriage of her eldest son, and Rodolphus was uncharacteristically cheerful from that moment on. Bella continued to enjoy the festive day, which was golden and presented to her on a silver platter, but a solitary black cloud wafted constantly in her mind.

Even after the celebration was over and the sun set on the wedding night, she couldn't shake off the disquieting pleasure of her fear-filled excitement earlier that day. She had been looking forward consummating her marriage with Rodolphus – even as a girl, years before the engagement or before they even spoke, she found him an extremely attractive man – but after the luxurious clothes had been discarded and they were kissing passionately over the covers of their bed, all she could think about was the Dark Lord.

If Rodolphus noticed her mind was elsewhere he hid it well; Maybe he didn't care, or he was too eager to notice anything but his lust. His large hands roamed her body, and his mouth was hot against her skin; She wanted to want it, but the passion only made her feel trapped inside her body, when what she wanted was to be far away from there, with someone else.

It wasn't long before Rodolphus lost interest in kissing and groping. Spreading her legs with a firm grip, he pulled her easily across the mattress, as if she was a rag doll, and slid inside her with one swift motion. Only as the sudden spike of pleasure hit her did she realize how impossibly wet she had been all that time.

However, Rodolphus didn't seem to want to move; Instead he was sucking and licking at her neck, his hands holding her taunt waist, savoring the feeling. She warped her legs tightly around his back and pushed against him eagerly, the feeling of him buried inside her without moving teasing and torturing her.

He chuckled deeply, his warm breath tickling her face. "Eager, are we?"

She bit his shoulder to state that she didn't find that funny at all. The gesture seemed to ignite something in him, because he abandoned all sort of teasing at once and thrust inside her forcefully, making her call out in pain and pleasure.

For a short time the shadows in her mind where pushed back by the bright glow of passion that took over her as her husband bulit his pace. She could do nothing but arch her back against the mattress and let the pleasure wash over her, as he was pinning her by the wirsts, appearing to enjoy the sight of her stranded underneath him as he fucked her.

As the first wave of release hit her Rodolphus let himself come, thrusting deep inside her with a groan. She rode her orgasm as long as she could, before he pulled out and collapsed by her side, his tan skin gleaming with sweat.

By the time Bella had caught her breath he was already asleep. She looked at him by the dim light of the dying fire. He looked a lot younger in his sleep, his hair rumpled and his lean body relaxed, like a large cat sleeping by the fire. He seemed so vulnerable... Did she look like that too when she slept? She had never considered that. Although she had been with a few men she had never shared a bed with anyone. Maybe that was why marriage was such a big deal – nobody wanted to seen in such a vulnerable state.

After a long time of lying awake in bed, her afterglow long gone, she got up and made her way to the couch in front of the fire place. Her hairdo had come loose, and she let her hair fall on her back as she sprawled naked by the fire, pulling Rodolphus' golden cloak over her middle. It smelled strongly of him, but for some reason it was comforting.

She was no stranger to insomnia – she knew the kind of thoughts that would take over her mind and wouldn't let her sleep, tired as she may be. Now that the excitement was over, a vague sense of familiar melancholy took over her. She knew that darkness well – it had been there ever since she had been a small child – so she knew she could do nothing but stare at the burning coals and wait for it to be pushed aside by some distraction that would eventually come.

Then, from the void of her thoughts, the image of the Dark Lord rose again. As his black eyes stared at her from the flames, she experienced again the exciting fear that they had installed in her that afternoon, the feeling of exhilarating danger. The darkness was pushed back by a fire that ignited in her mind – a fire of passion, excitement and hope. Then she knew without a doubt – Rodolphus may be her husband now, but there was only one man who could tame the darkness inside of her and bring her light, and that was the Dark Lord.