A/N

I really hope you all like this chapter, with it's 'special guest' . She's a massive inspiration to me and I just know that (my version) of Voldy would fall in love with her straight away ;)

MBRB'xoxo

It had been two weeks since the whole 'Draco falling down the stairs' incident - that Bellatrix was firmly refusing to talk about or acknowledge in any way - had happened. Draco however, had been firmly refusing to be in the same room as his crazed Aunty. He figured that anyone who would try and convince him that his own father was a raging lunatic and, more so, after his blood, was not worthy of his presence. What he didn't know was that since Bellatrix had been 'let out' of Azkaban, she did not like being ignored. The sociopathic witch would do anything in her power to get the attention that she craved so much; she was much like a three year old in this respect.

The Dark Lord and Bellatrix sat darkly together on the dark, plush sofa that sat in the Malfoy's dark living room. Bellatrix had her feet over Voldemort's legs and he was absent-mindedly drawing circles on her shin as she pressed random buttons on a remote for the glowing contraption that held dominance in the centre of the room.

'Oh, for Merlin's sake! Why do these muggles have to put on the same monotonous crap every day of the week?' she sighed, throwing her head back against the sofa and letting out a long, dramatic moan of annoyance.

'Shut up, beast. I'm watching Graham Norton. Helena Bonham Carter is on it this week! Oh, I do love that woman. She's everything I've ever dreamed of being,' Voldemort swooned, his eyes fixed on the plasma screen that now took up half of the wall, and looked very out of place in the room that the Malfoys had tastefully decorated in way that was fitting for a room in an ancient mansion which was used for serious conversations and meetings.

Bellatrix and Voldemort had gone shopping the week before and had come back with numerous muggle contraptions including a hairdryer, a tumble dryer, a sewing machine, a space-hopper, a 'How To Yoyo' DVD and a Bopit extreme - courtesy of Voldemort's growing curiosity. But that's another story. Bellatrix stared at the woman that had appeared on her screen and her nose wrinkled as she took in her heavy black worker boots, white and red knee length socks, patterned pale pink dress with multiple chain necklaces with random charms on, and bird nest hair which had an assortment of clips and ribbons carelessly tied into it.

'Too many colours,' was the only insult that she could muster as the woman who wore everything she could possibly fit on - without exploding like that small donkey in the children's game did every time Bellatrix placed the small plastic objects on its back - curled her feet up on the set's sofa and began to ramble on, answering a question completely irrelevant to the one that had been asked.

'Too much fabulous!' Voldemort retorted, shocked that anyone could find fault with the vision of perfection on the mysterious contraption. As Helena gave out one of her signature filthy giggles, Voldemort's face contorted into an expression of true adoration and a squeal escaped his thin lips. Bellatrix looked at him in shock.

'My Lord. My DARK lord. I think that you just... squealed? Am I correct? Did I just hear you right, My Lord?'

'How can you not squeal Bellatrix? Come ON! Look at her! She's wild! She's crazy! She's FREAKING ADORABLE! I have half a mind to go and whack out the unforgivables on that husband of hers and steal her away all for myself!' A distant look fell over his face as he daydreamed of the good times that they would have together, picking out shoes for one another and then swapping one so they would have one of each pair on, sharing secrets on how to get the most voluptuous hair possible, and then she could teach him how to make his laugh sound so dirty. He was growing pretty tired of his dark cackle; it really was time for a change.

Silence met him as he was pulled from his day dreams by Bellatrix's dark eyes piercing him and her face void of all emotion. Perhaps it was time that she stopped slipping caffeine into everything that the Dark Lord drank, ate or inhaled. 'What?' he asked when she didn't say a word...or blink, come to think of it.

'Nothing,' she replied darkly. Who was this crazy woman to waltz onto this Tela-ma-bob and steal the Dark Lord's heart without even showing the smallest of signs of being darker than dark? It wasn't fair! Bellatrix yanked her feet away from where Voldemort was now tracing 'HBC's on her shin and stood up abruptly.

'And they're not married,' she spat at him, looking down on him with disgust.

'What?' Voldemort asked her, confusion in his voice.

'Helena and Tim Burton are not married. They may live together. They may have two kids, but why must people assume they're married? Ohhhh two people are in love, they MUST be wed. Pffftttt the media these days! Does my head in!' her hands flew around wildly as her voice got louder and faster as she explained the ins and outs of the Bonham Carter/Burton relationship. 'I mean, every two second, 'Oh, how's your husband? How's the husband?' and she has the decency to not be like 'WE'RE NOT MARRIED! GET YOUR BLOODY FACTS STRAIGHT'. Call themselves reporters.

'Report the truth then! Imbeciles. They drive me crazy with their idiotic ways. If they don't want to get married, THEY DON'T HAVE TO! If they want to live in separate houses, THEY CAN! Just leave them alone to live their perfect lives and be happy with their matching striped socks and round glasses, and move on. NOTHING TO SEE HERE PEOPLE! MOVE RIGHT ALONG!' As her hands came down to rest by her sides again after flapping at an incredible rate around her head, she took a deep breath and stared at Voldemort in frustration.

Her face had shown more expression in the last minute then he thought he had ever seen her express and they just stared at each other before Bellatrix gave out a frustrated sigh, turned on her heels and stormed from the room ready to go in search of Draco and make him speak to her again, no matter what it took.

Voldemort thought that Bellatrix may like Helena Bonham Carter more than she had originally let on. Ignoring his crazy follower, Voldemort fell back into a pleasant day dream of what life with Helena Bonham Carter would be like. Whipping out his new Apple Mac, he did a quick google of Tim Burton to see exactly what it was that he was competing with wo win the affections of the wonderful woman...and then it struck him. After staring at a photo of the couple together laughing for quite some time and wondering what it was the large difference between Tim and the Dark hunk of love himself, it was with brutal distress that the Dark Lord came to the conclusion that he and Helena could never truly be together. With tears welling up in his ember eyes, Voldemort let out a pitiful wail and jumped from the sofa, ran from the room.

The habitants of Malfoy Manor were all suddenly greeted with the single-handedly most painful cry they had ever heard. "I HAVE NO WILD HAAAIIIIRRRRR!"

Reviews are so appreciated : )

xoxo