Chapter 3: Devil in a Dinner Dress

July 1998

Malfoy Manor

1st Floor Dining Room

(Bellatrix)

"I have gathered you all here today, for the first time since the battle in May, to discuss how we shall proceed," Voldemort announced from his position at the head of the long claw-footed table. From her position at his immediate right and wearing a silver and emerald tiara that indicated her rank as Dark Lady, Bellatrix eyed the Death Eaters around the table who looked considerably less enthusiastic than usual.

On her other side, sat Narcissa who looked tired and not as well dressed as was normal for her. And to her right sat Lucius, who looked in contrast, extremely eager for some reason unbeknownst to her.

"As you may have observed, we suffered heavy losses in our last battle at Hogwarts school...significantly, Severus Snape, Vincent Crabbe Jr., Fenrir Greyback and Scabior and countless others who have all been loyal to us, to varying degrees, these past years…" Voldemort announced with an uncharacteristic tenderness. Then his voice suddenly deepened with hostility.

"I hope never to endure such losses again...that is why, your Dark Lady, Bellatrix Black will be holding mandatory Dark arts practice and coaching sessions to get your dueling and defense mechanisms up to par."

A few Death Eaters groaned audibly and Voldemort silenced them at once, as Bellatrix's heart leapt. He'd promised her a more involved role in the Death Eater organization...especially since he agreed she'd more than proven herself, even before they married. But she never thought she'd be in charge of the Death Eaters learning to duel better...which they certainly needed to if they were ever going to stand a chance against the other side.

"...she will be in touch with sign-up sheets for practice slots and practice partner selection. Now, our next order of business: recruiting. As you might've noticed, our numbers are down what with the heavy casualties we have sustained. Bellatrix and I are in the process of devising an extensive recruitment plan…but meanwhile, I'd like us to welcome and acknowledge a few new members we've added to the organization since we last met," Voldemort announced. Bellatrix laughed. In the process of devising an extensive recruitment plan? That was news to her. She never realized before getting so close to Voldemort just how much he made up on the spot during these meetings and had to admire his ability to do so.

What he hadn't acknowledged in response to their decrease in number, she noticed, was how many (lesser ranked, of course) Death Eaters had deserted because they were losing faith in their movement. They hadn't turned to the other side, per se, but had simply lost a reason to fight for.

She watched as Voldemort gave motion for the 'new members' to rise and Bellatrix saw a few people she hadn't paid much mind to before, standing meekly at the very end of the table. One, she recognized as Madam Rosmerta, the landlady of the popular pub in Hogsmeade. She had apparently come with Yaxley and Voldemort commented that she would be very useful in keeping tabs on the goings on at Hogwarts School now the Carrows had been driven out. The next new member, Bellatrix recognized only vaguely as a teenager just past Hogwarts age who'd fought with Slytherin house on their side at the battle (a girl who introduced herself as Pansy Parkinson, a friend of Draco's) and the other two (both rather gruff looking blokes of the typical Death Eater mold) she didn't remember ever seeing before.

Voldemort went on about his plans for recruitment and went over the usual prime targets (Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and the Weasley family) with the addition of a new one-Neville Longbottom, the boy who'd killed Nagini. But as the meeting wore on, Bellatrix could tell the Death Eaters weren't into it like they used to be. She made a mental note to address some kind of morale booster with Voldemort later if he didn't get to it first. She knew he still thought something big was coming-something that would give their movement new fire and importance, but might also prove heavy with casualties.

"With Severus gone," Voldemort was saying with the utmost frankness as if he wasn't the one who'd disposed of Snape in the first place (as she knew he had been). "...we will need a new spy for our cause. Someone who can take advantage of the other side's long-held naïveté and pretend to cross over from our side." He paused for effect or perhaps to let the weight of his words sink in, but Bellatrix highly doubted many of the Death Eaters were paying attention, though they made a good show of it.

"I have put much thought into this decision and have decided it would be most convincing if you, Draco and Narcissa, were to do it." Bellatrix could feel her sister's sharp intake of breath aside her while she herself grew furious.

When you mentioned getting a new spy, you never mentioned it would be my sister! She thought bitterly into her husband's mind. Her intrusion was rejected, however, and the thought simply bounced back into Bellatrix's own head.

"...Draco and Narcissa," Voldemort continued, uninterrupted. "...will feign frustration with Lucius Malfoy and myself, and will claim to have converted to the light side, believing a world that idolizes Harry Potter to be a better world indeed." He paused again to let several Death Eaters snigger, before going on. "They will naturally, report to me with regular updates on what the light side is doing, who its supporters are, and any battle plans they may gain word of. Severus's updates, as we all know, proved very useful to us in the past and I have no doubt that Draco and Narcissa's reports will meet with similar good...use."

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"My angel, I am scared for you," Bellatrix confessed to her little sister as soon as the meeting let out. Many of the Death Eaters had promptly disapparated, but a few lingered about, heading off into the drawing room for drinks and cigars with Lucius and Voldemort, leaving Narcissa and Bellatrix alone in the dining room.

They cleared the table of food scraps, bits of parchment and other detritus from the meeting with a few flicks of their wands that to Bellatrix's surprise, seemed to leave Narcissa breathless and weak.

"Are you alright, darling? Here, sit down." Bellatrix helped her sister into one of the glossy white chairs and summoned the house elf, Slinky, to fetch Narcissa a hot cup of herbal tea, a task to which the elf happily set to.

Narcissa was looking incredibly pale-even more so than usual and Bellatrix felt fresh worry for her baby sister course through her like fire.

"If you're fearful, you really shouldn't...your heart has never been strong."

"It isn't that, Bella. I haven't been right since that battle. I expect some kind of spell damage from one of the curses I took...not a big deal, I've just been...tired. It will do me good to be able to be of some use to us despite it," said Narcissa whose lips closed to form a thin smile.

"Perhaps we should have you see a Healer," said Bellatrix, settling in the chair beside her sister. Narcissa let out a harsh laugh.

"Oh sure, I bet the Healers at St. Mungos who've all lost family to this war will be glad to treat a Death Eater!"

"Well, perhaps Voldemort should check you over anyway. He's more knowledgeable on these matters than I."

"He's not a Healer, Bella. In fact, he's rather the opposite I'd say."

Bellatrix frowned, but before she could respond, Slinky the house elf returned with the tea.

"Chamomile for Miss Narcissa and Spice for Miss Bellatrix!" The elf exclaimed proudly, her large eyes bright as she handed over the two steaming mugs. Narcissa nodded to it in subtle acknowledgement while Bellatrix stirred sugar and cinnamon into her own absentmindedly, her thoughts trying to wrap around the fact that there was something new to worry about.

(Voldemort)

Voldemort clutched his goblet tightly in his fist, trying to conceal his subtly rising frustration from the Death Eaters. A year ago, this room would have been jammed full with his most loyal and able supporters getting drunk and making threats against the other side and occasionally breaking a crystal or two off the Malfoys' expensive chandelier. Now, there was enough room for the few who did stay after the meeting to stretch out amongst the few furniture pieces, sipping their mead in tense silence and the occasional dull murmur of conversation.

Lucius Malfoy stood against the far wall by the piano engaged in a stiff-looking discussion with his son and the two Goyles.

Dispersed amongst the white sofa and lounge chairs sat Travers, Sedona, Yaxley and Rosmerta whispering animatedly about matters of absolutely no importance to him or their movement.

The new recruit, Parkinson, who unfortunately was a teenager of no real use, stood shyly by the fireplace like she knew she was out of place. Rowle was leaning against the fireplace on the other side paying her no mind as he drank himself into a stupor and laughed at a crude joke Macnair had evidently just told.

Bellatrix and Narcissa were nowhere to be seen and everyone else had disapparated after the meeting all too eagerly. And the ones who weren't losing interest in their fight were becoming too comfortable around him-comfortable enough to laugh and joke in his presence about trivial personal matters. They didn't fear him like they used to...yes, he was going to have to do something and quickly.

Voldemort drank down the rest of his mead and strode from the drawing room, meaning to retreat to his upstairs study and plot out how he was going to go about restoring fear in the hearts of his followers, but what he did not anticipate, was finding someone already sitting there waiting for him.

"I didn't think you'd see me alone. I'm used to having men afraid of me, you see."

He heard her voice before he could see her properly. Her silhouette was soft and imposing at the same time as she sat in the moonlight with her feet propped up on his desk. Anyone else, he would have cursed instantaneously, but something about her made him want to hear more from her.

"Well, don't just stand there. I thought you Brits were supposed to have manners," she said in a silky accent that was wonderful to him...and also very familiar. He drew his wand to light the lamps, but she got there before him, bathing the room in fire with only a casual flick of her wrists and he saw her completely.

She was small and thin and blonde-and a witch, obviously. An accomplished one. When he tried to invade her thoughts, she pushed him away with ease like it'd taken Bellatrix years to accomplish.

"My sister told me you would try that," she said in that same noxious voice. Then it struck him why she was so familiar.

"Rhiannon."

"Is my sister. Bit of a tosser though, really. My name is Fiona Goode. And I'm here to help you, Voldemort."

When she said his name without even a hint of fear, he came out of his reverie burning with questions.

"You're wondering how I got in-past your protective enchantments. Well, you should know by now that our magic doesn't work the same way as yours. Maybe even works around it," she said, reading his thoughts with ease. She winked at him and he hurried to raise a shield around his mind as he hadn't needed to do since his youth. He had to remind himself that he was the most powerful wizard of all time...and that no one, not even these showy New Orleans witches, could stand in his way.

"How did you hear of me?" He meant to shout, but his voice came out as almost a whisper when he looked at her. Her features had hints of being aged, yet she looked young all the same. And when he looked directly into her eyes-Amber as an eclipse on a starless night-he had to look away because he felt he would offer her anything otherwise.

"We'll get there in time," she said coolly.

He found it was easier to protect his own thoughts when he looked directly at the wall behind her rather than at her and he wondered briefly if she was part veela, even though veela had never had much of an effect on him before...and nor had the other swamp witches to whom she was supposedly related. He hastened a glance back at her only to find her rummaging in a small black handbag. She pulled out a cigarette, lit it with another flick of her wrists and sat there for a moment, blowing smoke up into his face.

"Killing muggle borns isn't going to matter anymore," she said finally. "I'll tell you more as soon as I know what we're up against...but you should know, I'm pure blood, but I've got a few muggle borns in my associates...and we're all on the same side. It's the people who can't do any magic at all that we've got to watch out for."

"And here I thought you an acquaintance worthy of my respect," Voldemort scoffed. "People who can't do magic aren't worth anything until they try to steal it from us."

"That's the trouble with you!" Fiona shouted suddenly, tossing her cigarette onto the floor and crushing it violently beneath one of her spike heels. "Men are so stupid-and unwilling to see the truth even when it's right in front of your own nose, if you had one that is." She stared directly at him and though he could see her right in front of him, he could also see through her-waterways moving through the swamps outside New Orleans like roadways. A world he hardly knew, a wealth of untapped magical power beneath the thick moss covered banks-and more like her.

"For the time being, you may want to keep our little chat between us...and especially, from your wife...she's a sloppy little witch bitch...but we may find a use for her even still."

"How are you doing this?" asked Voldemort, finally succeeding in pressing her out of his head.

"It's a dance no one ever had to teach me."

A/N: Sorry about the late update, but I live in New Orleans and it has been Mardi Gras insanity for the past couple of weeks. In exchange for the wait, I've given you Jessica Lange and another wizarding school-Academy for Exceptional Young Women in NOLA-JKR just hasn't officially recognized it yet. :) And if you haven't seen AHS Coven, Fiona can hypnotize people-and Voldemort is only partially immune. It struck me when I was rewatching the season that Jessica Lange as Fiona Goode might be the only witch who could evenly challenge Voldemort, both with her cunning and her power...so if you're still interested in reading this story, leave me a review for motivation! Thanks always,

~SunDance