1 November 1981

Malfoy Manor

"A prophecy was made," said Lord Voldemort to the assembled Death Eaters, "that stated a little baby would be my downfall. But… no. This will not come to pass. You see, my friends, Lily and James Potter are dead! Harry Potter is dead!"

Cheers went up, and Bellatrix tingled from her scalp to her toes where she sat beside Rodolphus. She glanced at him, feeling nothing, and she looked up to her master and felt everything. She stared at him where he stood in his black-rimmed glasses, dragging a palm over his cropped grey hair, and she suddenly remembered the way he'd kissed her the night before. His eyes flicked to her and flared red for a moment. They did that sometimes, when he was angry or fired up about something. Well, she knew, he was fired up now. He returned his gaze to the crowd of Death Eaters and said,

"The war rages ever onward. We must fight until Dumbledore is dead, until the Ministry is in shackles in our hands, until Mudbloods are eradicated from Wizarding society. Who will continue to fight with me?"

"I will, Master!" called Bellatrix at once, and he smirked at her. He kept his eyes on her as the others shouted their agreement. Narcissa was standing in the corner of the room, holding Draco and looking just a little afraid. The war would ramp up now, and her home was the centre of Voldemort's base. She was afraid for her son, Bellatrix knew. But Bellatrix thought Narcissa should be proud that Malfoy Manor had been chosen for key operations. She should be proud to host the Dark Lord. Draco would be fine, and if he wasn't, he would fall in the Dark Lord's service just like the big Death Eaters did.

"Dismissed!" said Voldemort. "Until I call you again. You all have your set tasks; keep at them."

Everyone rose then, and the meeting began to disperse. There was a fuzzy sort of energy in the room, the sort that flared up whenever a group of Magical people got excited. Bellatrix walked toward the door dragged by Rodolphus, who had his hand round his wrist and was talking animatedly to his elder brother Rabastan. Bellatrix glanced over her shoulder at the Dark Lord, who still stood at the head of the table, and realised he was glaring at her. He edged his glasses up his nose and visibly gulped, and suddenly she wanted him so badly she couldn't take it.

"Master," she said softly, but Rodolphus pulled her out of the room. He dragged her down the corridor to a quiet spot and pushed her against the wall, jostling a portrait, who yelped in protest.

"Shut up, you old painting," Rodolphus growled, and he pinned Bellatrix in with his arms. He was tall and thin, much taller than Bellatrix, and he loomed over her. She stared up at him and asked,

"Wh-What are you doing, Dolph?"

"I'm excited," he whispered. He waited for the last few people to leave the meeting room - the last except for Voldemort - and once they'd gone, he drove his face down onto Bellatrix's. She yelped and held his face, pushing it away a little, but he misinterpreted her actions as consent and dug in. She suddenly had an erection grinding against her stomach, hands searching her torso, and when she wrenched her face from his, she made a disgusted sound and cried,

"Not here, Dolph; what are you doing?"

"I told you. I'm excited. About what's happened with the Potter boy."

"So you're going to fuck me in the corridor of Malfoy Manor?" Bellatrix shrieked disbelievingly.

"I'd rather prefer if you did not," said a voice, and suddenly Rodolphus flew away from Bellatrix's body. She panted where she stood against the wall, staring at Voldemort, who had approached after leaving the meeting room. Rodolphus looked exceedingly embarrassed and stammered,

"So sorry, My Lord. I was just… It was only that I was… you see, I was…"

"Excited. Yes. I heard. I think the whole manor heard." Voldemort tipped his head, and Bellatrix felt her cheeks go very warm indeed. Voldemort surprised her then by turning his eyes to her and saying, "Bella, I need you in my office."

"You do?" she asked in shock, and then she quickly amended, "I mean to say, I shall come at once, Master."

"Will you?" he narrowed his eyes and then said to Rodolphus, "May I suggest you and your brother go back to Castle Lestrange and finish off a bottle of Firewhisky?"

"Sounds marvelous, Master," Rodolphus nodded. He squeezed at Bellatrix's hand and kissed her cheek, and he whispered, "Sorry. I'll see you at home later."

"Later," Bellatrix agreed, and she watched Rodolphus walk briskly down the corridor. She followed Lord Voldemort to his office, and she murmured softly from beside and behind him,

"I apologise, My Lord; I don't know what got into him."

"Desire got into him, as it gets into many wizards," Voldemort said simply. "He was happy, and he wanted you, and he simply could not be made to wait."

"Why did you interrupt?" Bellatrix asked curiously, and she did genuinely wonder. Why didn't he just keep on going to his office?

"I told you. I needed to meet with you," he said sharply, and Bellatrix nodded. She followed him into his office, and when he shut the door, he said at once,

"There's another baby who fits the description of the prophecy. I did not target him because he is a Pureblood. But I had a dream last night that, now that the Potter boy is gone, this one would be my undoing. I will not reveal the prophecy in its entirety to you. Trust me when I say that this boy and the Potter boy are the only two who neatly fit the description."

"Who is he, Master?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort said simply,

"Neville Longbottom. Frank and Alice's boy. Dumbledore will put them into hiding now. I want this to stay secret. I do not want it known that I have weaknesses, vulnerabilities like this. But I know I can trust you. Can't I, Bella? I can trust you."

"You could trust me with your life, Master," Bellatrix said, feeling her eyes well. He adjusted his glasses and said sharply,

"That's what I'm doing."

"Oh. Yes." She nodded. "Well, I shall kill them, then."

"No." He shut his eyes. "You and I will work together to find them. I know that Dumbledore will hide them now that the Potters are dead. Dumbledore knows the prophecy, you understand. Or at least, he'll know that this boy… that I might come for him. So he'll hide them. You and I will work as a team in secret to hunt the Longbottoms down and eliminate this threat. Together. In secret. Am I understood? You are the only one I feel I can truly trust with this task, Bella. I do not… you see, it is only that the others seem as though for the right price, or…"

He did not have faith in the others' undying loyalty, Bellatrix could tell. She nodded and informed him,

"I would die a hundred thousand deaths, Master. I would endure a million lifetimes of the Cruciatus Curse… before I gave you up. Before I betrayed you."

"I know." Suddenly his eyes seemed a little wet behind the lenses of his glasses, and he was a bit nervous. He nodded again. "I know. You are the only one in that mass in whose loyalty I put absolute confidence. And so I am putting my confidence there now. I need you to assist me, Bella. You will do it."

It was not a question. It was an order. And of course she would obey. She never would have any choice but to obey him. She curtsied deeply, holding out her velvet skirt, and she whispered,

"Master."

When she stood, she was surprised - no, shocked - by the way he swept an arm behind her back and drew her near. She stared up into his eyes, her breath quickening, and then suddenly his lips were very near hers. She could feel his breath on her mouth, and she whispered,

"My Lord?"

"I trust you," he said, almost as though the words shocked him, as though the concept shocked him. Perhaps, she thought, he had not trusted very many people in his life. Perhaps she was one of the first people he'd really trusted, and it surprised him to feel the sensation. To reassure him, she reached up and cupped his jaw, feeling the smoothness of where he'd shaved this morning, and she murmured,

"I would let them rip me limb from limb before I would ever betray you."

"I trust you," he said again, and he touched his mouth to hers. He didn't push his tongue into her mouth like he had the night before. He was… gentle? Soft? It was wholly unexpected, the quiet way he was kissing her now. Even Rodolphus was never like this, never easy or velvet with his kisses like this. Bellatrix shivered and reached up with her other hand. He still cradled her around her back, and his other hand went to her ribcage. He held her like that for a long while, kissing her once, twice, three times and then pulling back as his breath shook a bit.

"Go drink with your husband," he commanded her, but Bellatrix stared right through the lenses of his glasses into his dark eyes and shook her head. She whispered,

"I don't feel much like drinking. Master."

"Bella." He licked his bottom lip, then chewed it, and he finally said in a rather firm voice, "I am not about to become your lover, you do realise."

"Of course not," she whispered, but neither of them moved. He was still holding her back, holding her ribs, and she was cradling his face. He kissed her again, more deeply this time, and he let out a low little groan. He finally wrenched himself away and dragged his wrist over his lips, turning away toward the window and shoving his hands into his robe pockets.

"Go," he barked. "I will summon you when I have need of you. You have your orders. You know your mission. Now go, Madam Lestrange."

Madam Lestrange. Not Bella, like he'd said all morning and the night before. Bellatrix got the hint. She was dizzy where she stood, but she dipped again and whispered,

"Goodbye, My Lord."

Author's Note: Thanks so very much for reading and reviewing. I really appreciate it.