4 November 1981

Kensington, London

"Bellatrix! Oh, darling. Every time I see you, I fret. Every time I don't see you, I fret even more. The stories Narcissa tells me. Oh. Goodness." Druella Black pulled Bellatrix from the entry foyer of the Black family's Kensington townhouse into the sitting room on the left, and Bellatrix plopped down onto a divan. She sighed and said,

"Cissy doesn't know the half of it, I'm afraid."

"Don't tell me that, dear. I'm worried enough as it is," Druella said, waving her hand. "Now. What has made you deign to grant me your presence today?"

"Is Daddy home?" Bellatrix asked casually, and Druella frowned.

"No, darling; he's at work. At Gringotts. You should know."

"Of course." Bellatrix smiled dismissively and quickly whipped out her wand, keeping it hidden in her large sleeve. She thought quickly, Confundo! and watched as her mother vibrated where she sat in the chair opposite her. The Confundus Charm caused Druella's eyes to glaze over a bit. Druella said nothing for a very long moment, until finally Bellatrix asked,

"Where's Andromeda?"

"I really don't know now," Druella said, shaking her head slowly. "She wrote to me last week by owl, sending me a photograph of her daughter, Nymphadora, begging us to accept her husband. But I don't know where she's living now; it could be different."

"You haven't got any idea whatsoever?" Bellatrix snapped.

"The last I'd heard, they'd gone to Ireland," Druella said in a dreamy sort of voice. "To Galway. But for all I know, she's moved since then; that was almost a week ago. And with everything that's happened… with the Potters… I haven't an address."

"Galway, in Ireland," Bellatrix repeated. "Finite Incantatem."

She tucked her wand away as her mother came to, and then Druella said carefully,

"Darling, I've got a monstrous headache. I'm so sorry, but I really am feeling quite unwell all of a sudden."

"Menopause, perhaps," Bellatrix said bluntly, and Druella gave an embarrassed little smile.

"Yes, perhaps. Would you mind terribly if I went to lie down, dear?"
"Not at all," Bellatrix said. "By all means. Do go lie down. I just came to say hello, and I've done that, so… I'll see you soon, Mum."

"Bye, darling," said Druella.

Back at Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix inquired after the Dark Lord after knocking for five minutes on his office door. Narcissa said he was up in his personal quarters, and that he was never to be bothered when he was up there.

"Trust me, Cissy; he'll want to be bothered with this," Bellatrix growled, and she hurried up the winding staircase by herself. She wandered down the corridor that led to a large double doorway, a suite, and she knocked rather bravely upon it.

"I don't want dinner," called a voice from inside, but Bellatrix called back,

"It's me, Master. Bellatrix."

"Oh." A moment later, the door opened, and he stood there looking weary and haggard. His scruff had grown in a bit, and his glasses were a little crooked on his face. He straightened them and said in a sleepy sort of voice, "Excuse me; I had a terrible headache."

"So did my mother, when I went to see her just now," said Bellatrix matter-of-factly, and a look of realisation crossed Voldemort's tired eyes. He gestured for her to come into his suite, and she followed him into the main sitting room. He was wearing pyjamas, she noticed, and she thought that was very odd. They were black flannel, and he was wearing them right here in front of her.

"What did your mother say?" he asked, and Bellatrix told him honestly,

"She hasn't had a positive identification on Andromeda's location for a week, when she heard from her with a photograph of the daughter. The last known location was Galway, Ireland."

"Galway." Voldemort gulped hard and nodded. "We'll go tomorrow. It's meant to storm terribly tonight, both here and in Ireland. We need clear skies. We'll go tomorrow. Fine work, Bella."

"Mum was so confused; she kept saying it could be different, but it's only been a week," Bellatrix pointed out. "Seems to me like the owl came from Galway straight away either before or after Hallowe'en. How do we know Andromeda will be in Galway?"

"We don't, but it's the best lead by far that we've got," Voldemort said. He yawned a little and shook his head. "I do apologise for my fatigue and my… being a little disheveled. You see, I… I was hard at work at something I can't even reveal to you, so…"

"I understand, Master," said Bellatrix very firmly, and the way he looked at her then made her feel very hungry indeed. She stared at him and put her hand on his bicep, and she whimpered softly with want.

"You're here," he noted, and she nodded.

"I am."

"I… I think… I believe that I want you," he told her, and Bellatrix's eyes welled heavily. She nodded and whispered,

"You may have whatever you want, My Lord. Including me."

"You've wanted me for ages," he murmured, stepping closer, and she felt her stomach flop as she reached up for his scratchy grey scruff. She nodded and affirmed,

"I have. I have wanted you… oh, Master, I have wanted you…"

"More than you've wanted him. Rodolphus."

"I always think of you when I'm with him," Bellatrix said very honestly. "It's the only way I can make it through."

"Bellatrix." Voldemort took her face in his hands and bent to touch his forehead to hers. "I trust you. You are the only one I trust. You understand?"

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix was getting excited now, wet between her legs from all this touching, all this talking, and she tried to kiss him. He brushed his lips against hers and whispered,

"You are different from the others."

"I only want to serve you," she replied, and he smiled a little as he nodded.

"I know."

He kissed her deeply then, very deeply indeed, and he put his hands on her waist as he began to lead her through an open set of French doors into an elaborately decorated green and white bedroom. It was dimly lit in here, and the bed was rumpled from where he'd been lying in it.

Suddenly he was stripping off Bellatrix's clothes, one piece at a time, and then he let her finish it off as he worked on the buttons of his pyjama shirt. Bellatrix took off her tunic, her bra, her skirt and her leggings and her knickers. She kicked away her boots and stockings, and then she was nude before Voldemort. He was nude before her. He wasn't exactly toned and lean, she noticed, but she didn't care. He had the body of a fifty-four-year-old man, and everything that could be expected of such a thing. He sagged in places; he was imperfect. But she adored him. As for herself, she was no longer eighteen, and she knew her breasts were not perfect round orbs anymore. But she was thin and had never borne a child, so she was smooth and free of lumps, at least. Still, they both had their flaws, and neither seemed to care all that much.

His hand went to her hip, where she was self-conscious about her shape, and he grunted softly with pleasure. Did he like her there? Bellatrix touched at his chest, where there was a soft dusting of grey hair, and she touched her forehead to the warm skin. She liked him here. He guided her down onto the bed and parted her legs at once, and Bellatrix whispered,

"Master, kiss me, please. Please. Please."

"Beg me some more," he smirked, and she stared right at him, knowing she was glassy-eyed with need as she hummed,

"Most merciful master, please, please, grant me a few kisses. Please kiss me. Please. Please, Master. Please."

"Good girl." He took his glasses off and set them beside the bed, and then he bent and kissed her so hard that she could barely breathe through it. Rodolphus was never anything like this - passionate and deep in his kisses. Suddenly Bellatrix felt a knee shove her thighs open, felt a sharp press and a fullness, and she threw her head back. He was enormous, she thought. Or, at least, he was far, far, far bigger than her husband. He felt so good, so wide inside of her. She moaned like an absolute whore as he ground his pelvis against hers, thrusting his cock in and out, in and out, in and out over and over again. Deep, so deep. So thick. Bellatrix pressed her palms to his back and breathed in the scent of him.

This was her lord and master. This was the man she'd craved, wanted, desired, needed for over thirteen years. She had wanted nothing more than this, than this very moment, since she'd been little more than a child. And here she was, a grown and married woman, with him inside of her. She began to cry, burrowing her face against the crook of his neck and letting her tears soak his skin as she tightened her knees around him and hooked her ankles together. And when she came, it was like a bomb had detonated, and she cried out so loudly that he swallowed up her voice with another harsh kiss.

"Master," she croaked after the white-hot bliss and contractions had passed. "Master…"

"Bella." He sounded out of breath, like he'd run a great long race, and finally he jerked his hips and his face contorted like he was in serious pain. But Bellatrix knew better. He was finding his pleasure. He was finding his pleasure inside of her. That thought was almost too much to take, and fresh tears boiled over. She stared up at him as he twitched inside of her, as one of his hands squeezed at her breast, and she whispered,

"I adore you."

"Bella." He pulled out of her, letting a stream of his come follow him, and as he lay on the bed beside her, he mumbled, "I trust you're on a long-acting contraceptive potion."

"Of course, Master," she said earnestly. "Owing to the war, Rodolphus… erm… you know, I'm a soldier. Yes. I…"

She was babbling, she knew, but she was sweat-slicked and breathless and still recovering from the bliss he'd given her. He just nodded and his throat bobbed, and he mumbled,

"Get dressed and go home. Tomorrow we go to Ireland. I'll send for you."

"Y-Yes, Master," Bellatrix stammered, and she hurried out his bed, not bothering to Scour his come from between her legs. She liked it there. She liked the feel of it in her knickers when she got dressed. She was about to leave his bedroom when she heard him growl from where he lay in the bed,

"Bella."

"Master?" She turned round to see that he'd pulled the blankets up round himself, but he was beckoning with one finger. She hurried over, and he turned his face to her. He blinked slowly a few times and finally whispered,

"Kiss me goodnight."

Bellatrix smiled, unable to help herself, and bent down to kiss his cheek. But he wanted more. He seized her face and brought her mouth to his, and his tongue crept between her lips. Bellatrix let out a satisfied hum and kissed him back, caressing his chest, and when at last they broke away and she stood, she whispered,

"Goodnight, Master."

"Night, Bella," he said plainly, and she knew then that she should go, so she did.

Author's Note: Oh, my. These two are definitely starting to heat up and also get a little emotional with each other, no? Will they find Andromeda in Ireland? And if they do, will they find the Longbottoms? Hmm...