Again, just another shorter update, but the next one will be longer.

Also, on a random note, I don't imagine Bella is someone who swears on instinct or curses often with her upbringing. If she ever swears I think it is only when she wants to shock someone or annoy them.

The short sentences and breaks are deliberate in the last section to indicate his current feelings.

As the world came back into focus and the feeling of a jerk behind his navel decreased, Bellatrix shakily found her feet. However, her body still continued to tremor as she clenched the pocket watch Tom had given her and stared wide eyed at the area surrounding her.

The sizzle of bacon quickly drew her eyes to the hashes cooking in a fry pan, the scent reaching her nose. She was too engulfed in other thoughts to appreciate it and, instead, she continued her exploration as she took a few cautious steps around. Unfortunately, there was nothing of interest, but a modern and ordered kitchen with a simple table, a good distance away from the counters, with enough space for four

Was this where Tom meant to send her? It seemed just like a normal and mediocre household. Maybe that was the point. He probably wanted to irritate her.

Her eyes cautiously spied the bacon. The cook could not be far away and, if Tom was to be believed, it would be his mother. For one moment that shot at her belly, she worried it might mean his father was here too. Filthy muggle. She would rather be on the streets than share a house with a muggle. She assumed he was dead, but, then again, she had assumed the same thing about his mother. Somehow Tom had managed to hide her away from the world. He could do the same thing for a muggle father.

Bellatrix was thrown from her musings, by the soft slapping sound of slipper clad footsteps. Her wand was in her hand in a moment, as she spun around to face the woman who entered the room. She seemed to be in her seventies with lank silver hair that was cut short. She was paler than even Bella or Tom with grey eyes that were strangely cross eyed and were wide open in shock.

No one could ever describe her as attractive. Bellatrix already concluded she could not be Tom's mother.

"Who are you?" Bella hissed baring no thought to the fact she was infringing in someone else's house. Her wand hand did not flinch, but remained pointed straight at her in determination.

The older woman looked cautiously, her eyes locking onto Bella's wand awkwardly.

"Merope Riddle," she replied meekly like a woman who was much younger and shyer. "Who are you?"

Bellatrix might not have replied, but the name Riddle was enough to provide an answer. Maybe she was Tom's mother. Just how could such an ugly thing produce someone like Tom who, even in his fifties, was undeniably attractive?

"Bellatrix Lestrange," she said confidentially. She chose to cut straight to the matter at hand. "Are you Tom's mother?"

The name had an impact as Merope nodded, but still her lips thinned in disapproval. Bella could not care either way. "I am. Tom did say you might come."

"Well I have come." There was a pause. By the way the other woman was glaring at the floor, Bellatrix did not imagine it was going to be broken by her. "Then you know who I am?"

It was strange to look directly into cross eyed eyes, but she did when Merope looked back up at her. It was like the other woman had already been filled with presumptions.

"He has. He tells me these things. I am his mother after all."

Again Bella thought it strange to think of Tom with his mother, especially telling her the truth. She herself did not tell such tales to her own mother.

"Clearly you have already made your judgement," she replied snobbishly as she looked down her nose at the much shorter woman. "I wonder what is worse. Him running home to whine to his mother or his mother believing every word of her son."

Feeling more comfortable, she stowed her wand in her robes and leaned back on the table behind her. The other woman was not so calm. "Do you expect me to be happy about a woman who disrespects my son and then-"

"Fucks him?" Bellatrix cut in with a smirk not caring about how vulgar it was. It certainly impacted the other woman who flinched and shrank back while her eyes widened.

"I-I-" Merope spluttered like a gaping goldfish. "I did not mean that. Tom did not even mention anything like that."

Oops she thought to herself. She misinterpreted that situation. Oh well, it was only Tom's mother. Who cared if she knew anything? Tom might since he had not told her in the first place, but that hardly worried Bella.

She shrugged. "Well now you know," she said simply and unashamedly, but she did at least change the subject. "What room is mine?"

If the other woman was pleased about the change of conversation she did not show it. Still tense, she nodded, seemingly reluctantly, and gestured for her. "Follow me."

Confidently, Bellatrix strode after the woman. She noticed how slim she was and she almost seemed to shrink. Bella's eyes quickly left her and examined the surroundings as they walked up a set of stairs. It was just a modest house with nothing to distinguish it.

Finally, Merope pushed open a room upstairs and allowed Bellatrix to walk inside. Like everything else, it was just bland, but neat with a bed, a wardrobe and some bed side tables.

She was unimpressed and she did not hide that fact as she turned back to her. "It will do," she said coldly without a word of thanks.

"Let me know if you require anything," Merope said meekly and rather robotically. She turned and left quickly.

Left to her own devices, Bellatrix threw herself onto the bed lost in thought.

Is this what her life had sunk to? Existing in such pathetic accommodation and relying on help from a man she hated.

The Lestrange house had never been a place that was full of life, at least when it was only the domain of Bellatrix and Rodolphus.

That night seemed more dead than usual.

Rodolphus had not even lit a candle. The only light was from the hearth the house elves had tended. He did not care. It was easier to just stare into the darkness.

He had been told Bella had escaped that day.

He knew the Aurors would be sent after her. He had been informed when it would occur so he had ensured he was far away from home.

Then he had been just as furious. Now, as the shadows from the hearth danced around him, that feeling had mostly abated.

He just felt numb.

His wife was somewhere and, the only way he would ever see her again, was in a prison cell. Despite his previous actions, he was starting to regret his decisions. He had been furious. He had been unwilling to sit to the side and do nothing.

Now, it was the only thing he could do.

Sipping his drink, he closed his eyes allowing the built up buzz from the alcohol to settle over him.

If only he could target Riddle.

He had already encountered him once that day. It had only been a simple passing in the hallway, but that one sight had been enough to almost break his composure. Riddle may have been ice cool, even managing a curt nod, but Rodolphus' hands had gripped his wand tightly the whole time.

Even now, as he sat at home, he regretted not following through. Perhaps, if Riddle was dead, he could rest at last.

He had not forgotten what he had done.

He could not.