Chapter Three: The Dark Lord
July 1969,
As far as Bellatrix knew, Lord Voldemort didn't have a headquarters. When she and Rodolphus were still on good terms, she had asked him if the Dark Lord always gathered his followers in the same place, but Rodolphus had replied that he preferred not to establish such rituals. Bellatrix imagined that such an attitude would make the Dark Order much more vulnerable.
Since Christmas, Lord Voldemort had shed more blood than ever before. Bellatrix suspected that he now felt surrounded enough by loyalists to implement his reign of terror. Few of these events had been directly linked to his name. The press seemed to receive no information from the Ministry. The Aurors themselves must have lacked evidence to charge him, but Bellatrix knew that Lord Voldemort had been under surveillance for some time now.
She knew the plans of the dark wizard. When he was still campaigning in the salons of the largest wizarding families, he proclaimed that he wanted to prioritise the superiority of pureblood over that of Mudbloods, to cease the privileges granted to these vermin, and to eliminate all their defenders. Bellatrix knew that at present, many barriers still obstructed his path, but she firmly believed in the infinite power of the dark wizard.
Yet it was difficult to come across the Dark Lord. He was totally absent from the wizarding world, and he had never appeared at the scene of any of his misdeeds. Bellatrix was beginning to think that only his Death Eaters were in real contact with him. He must be busy elsewhere... How could she contact him without resorting to the other Death Eaters? His discretion and the absence of a headquarters made him the most invisible being in Britain, even as his name gained popularity.
It was late, and her house had been asleep for a long time. She had returned from Hogwarts the night before. She had feigned great fatigue and had gone to bed very early without dinner. She had feared that Rodolphus would come to talk to her, and it was clear that she knew him well because she had recognised his voice echoing in the chimney duct barely twenty minutes after she had gone to bed.
Their marriage would be celebrated in a few weeks, and Rodolphus must have been panicked at the thought of his future wife being so recalcitrant. Knowing Bellatrix's difficult character, he must have feared a real scandal. After all, she was very capable of running away, bringing shame upon the Lestranges, or adopting the least dignified attitude possible to force him to give up marrying her. Yet Bellatrix knew that she wouldn't stoop to such lows. She was far too proud to make a fool of herself and recoiled at the idea of disappointing her family despite the grievances she held against them. Moreover, she refused to displease the Dark Lord. He had consented to her union with Rodolphus. She wouldn't evade this marriage without his acceptance...
When midnight struck, Bellatrix got up as discreetly as possible. The parquet floor of her room, which must have been as old as the house itself, creaked beneath her steps. Armed with her wand, she murmured a spell to muffle her footsteps. Now a graduate of Hogwarts, she could use magic as she pleased.
Clad in a lightweight black cloak, she descended the stairs, made her way to the dining room of her manor, and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from one of the ceramics that her mother particularly cherished. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then uttered the words "Enguerrand Avery Residence" in a low voice before being swept away in a whirlwind of green flames.
XxXxXxX
On the other side, the Ghost, the sole heiress of the Averys, awaited her, dressed in a simple nightshirt. Bellatrix offered her a faint smile, secretly grateful that the young girl hadn't lied to her. They had both arranged this meeting earlier in the year. The long years of enduring the Ghost's presence in her circle of friends suddenly paid off.
At Hogwarts, when Bellatrix sought a way to reach the Dark Lord, she had first thought of joining his Headquarters, but then she remembered Rodolphus's revelations. She had considered asking Rodolphus one last time to introduce her to Lord Voldemort, but her pride had stopped her. She sought to escape this incompetent by joining the ranks of the Dark Wizard, so it was not through his help that she would regain her freedom. She had then turned to the Ghost because she knew perfectly well that her father, Enguerrand Avery, was a Knight of Walpurgis: he was one of the very first Death Eaters that Lord Voldemort had integrated into his ranks. It was said that Enguerrand Avery had attended Hogwarts at the same time as the Dark Lord. Bellatrix could only imagine what bliss it must have been to have grown up alongside the greatest wizard of all time.
"Good evening, Bellatrix," greeted the Ghost in her cold voice.
"Good evening, Géraldine," replied Bellatrix.
"Follow me," she ordered.
Bellatrix followed her through the maze of corridors that were the magnificent mansion she lived in. Without a doubt, the Avery family was very wealthy – perhaps even more so than hers. But no other family in the wizarding world had purer blood than that flowing in her veins, she thought with pride. Perhaps Lord Voldemort's blood was even purer? If her blood was untainted by any impurity, it lacked great names. She wouldn't be surprised if she learned that Lord Voldemort was descended from Salazar Slytherin.
"My father returned not long ago, but he never stays too long, especially at this hour. Try to be polite and dignified. The slightest misstep and he wouldn't hesitate to send you home without any mercy."
"Thank you for your advice and your help, Géraldine," Bellatrix whispered.
"You're welcome," replied the young girl as she walked briskly.
She cast a sceptical glance at Bellatrix, nevertheless lit with a vivid flame quite unusual in her usually cold and dull eyes. She continued:
"I don't know what prompts you to want to talk to the Dark Lord, my father often said he was irascible. I'm inclined to think my father is irascible, so imagining someone worse than him leads me to think that this Dark Wizard must be particularly difficult to live with..."
"Don't speak such things about the Dark Lord, Géraldine," advised Bellatrix in a low voice, "and I do not fear his wrath, I just wish he would hear me for a few seconds."
The Ghost nodded but still seemed somewhat perplexed by Bellatrix's request.
"My father's office is just there," she said, indicating a door at the end of a dimly lit corridor, "let me make the introductions and then I will leave you."
Bellatrix nodded and followed the Ghost to the door of rough wood, which seemed covered with an incalculable number of protections. The Avery heiress knocked softly. A dull noise was heard from inside the office, and then the two young girls were allowed to enter.
Enguerrand Avery was seated behind an imposing, antique desk, his severe and cold gaze immediately fell on Bellatrix. He furrowed his brows slightly but did not seem overly surprised to find his daughter's friend in his office at such a late hour. Bellatrix imagined he may have already detected her presence through the various protections she had noticed at the entrance to the room. The two young girls moved further into the room and stood near the desk. Like the rest of the house, the office was elegant, large, and cold.
"Good evening, father."
"Good evening, my daughter. What brings you the pleasure of this unexpected visit?" he asked, his gaze less icy now that it was fixed on his daughter.
"You probably remember my friend, Bellatrix Black, she would like to discuss a delicate matter with you..."
"Bellatrix Black, the future wife of Rodolphus Lestrange, isn't it?" he inquired, a slight mocking smile on his lips.
"Good evening, Sir," replied Bellatrix, bowing her head humbly.
Enguerrand Avery observed her for a few seconds before his face regained a completely serious and cold expression. He signalled for his daughter to leave. When the door closed behind them, he scrutinised Bellatrix once again.
"What do you want, Miss Black?"
"Sir, forgive my intrusion into your home at this late hour, but I came here without the consent of my parents..."
Bellatrix paused and risked a glance towards Enguerrand Avery. He didn't seem impressed by Bellatrix's disobedience; he simply waited for her to continue, his gaze fixed and calculating.
"I wish to meet the Dark Lord..."
Enguerrand Avery didn't burst into laughter as she had imagined. He simply raised an eyebrow and picked up a pipe from his desk. With a flick of his wand, his pipe glowed incandescent, and the man lazily drew from it. Bellatrix was starting to feel uncomfortable. The prolonged silence and the man's relaxed attitude weren't what she had expected.
"You know, Bellatrix, I fail to see what a teenage girl could have to do with the Dark Lord."
"I wish to become a Death Eater, Sir," replied Bellatrix as seriously as she could.
Avery smiled with amusement. He leaned back more comfortably against his seat.
"I'm afraid the Dark Lord does not accept girls into his service," said Avery, his tone serious but his eyes mocking.
"Sir, I know you must consider me a foolish, brainless girl, but believe me, this request is the result of careful consideration. I wholeheartedly wish to aid the Dark Lord's cause; I wish to join his ranks, be part of his army, and carry out any tasks he may see fit to assign me. I ask nothing more of you than to bring me to his side. Let me present myself to him, and I swear to accept any consequences for my actions..."
Enguerrand Avery had his eyes lowered to his pipe. Bellatrix didn't know how to interpret his attitude. He seemed somewhat indifferent, but his face no longer expressed mockery, which comforted her in thinking that he was now taking her seriously.
"Are you prepared to sacrifice your life for the Dark Lord, Miss Black?" he asked, contemplating the smoke rings rising from his pipe.
"Yes, Sir."
"Are you capable of killing to defend the Dark Lord's cause?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And for his personal amusement?"
Bellatrix furrowed her brows, swallowed, and replied:
"I will do whatever he asks of me."
Enguerrand Avery let out a caustic laugh at this retort. Bellatrix then noticed his gaze lingering on her chest and hips. She felt anger rising within her. Avery didn't wear a lewd or even interested expression, but he seemed to doubt her ability to assist a Dark Wizard. Surely, he saw in her nothing more than a woman ready to offer the services of a whore, rather than those of a warrior.
"What do you think, Master?" he then asked, his eyes fixed far behind her.
Bellatrix didn't understand immediately, then froze in place. Suddenly, his presence became extremely evident, almost palpable. Bellatrix's breath quickened.
"That's a very intriguing request," replied a cold, cutting voice that Bellatrix recognised immediately.
Her heart pounding, she turned three-quarters and discovered Lord Voldemort seated in a black leather armchair at the entrance to the office. She was certain no one had been sitting there when she arrived, but she also knew that the Dark Lord had witnessed the entire conversation. He had probably just made himself invisible.
Bellatrix didn't know what to say. Shocked and dismayed at the thought of having once again made a fool of herself in his eyes, she was mortified.
He had a slight smile, but his eyes, even colder than Avery's, surveyed her relentlessly. He rose with a swift but abrupt movement, and Bellatrix had to lift her eyes to face him. Merlin, he was so tall! Bellatrix couldn't help but admire the chiselled features of his face, the same strange beauty that had enchanted her so many years ago.
"My lord," she said, her voice almost trembling before she lowered her eyes with embarrassment.
"Pull yourself together, you idiot!" she scolded herself inwardly. Here she was, repeating the same behaviour she had exhibited the first time she met him—gazing at him with starry-eyed admiration, unable to utter a single word, nothing more than a mindless, infatuated girl.
Lord Voldemort let out a small, coldly amused laugh.
"Still as unforthcoming when it comes to addressing Lord Voldemort, Bellatrix?"
"Forgive me, your presence here surprised me," she defended herself, feeling her cheeks redden.
Lord Voldemort didn't say anything, and Bellatrix didn't know what to say to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled in. She looked up again at Lord Voldemort. His gaze was still fixed on her, piercing her with coldness but without animosity. Bellatrix held his gaze as a strange sensation seized her behind her eyelids.
A moment later, Lord Voldemort chuckled lightly.
"Your mind has no defences," he commented.
Bellatrix blushed.
"I'm sorry, I... I will..."
"You are young, impulsive, and therefore not always very thoughtful," he continued.
Bellatrix really wanted not to feel offended, but it was in vain; she already felt disappointment spreading within her. The Dark Lord took a step towards her, and Bellatrix's heart began to beat faster once again.
"But you are cunning, resilient, tenacious, stubborn... Few things resist you, isn't that so, Miss Black?"
Without waiting for a response, he continued:
"You are not devoid of some power either. With a little training, you could become a perfectly decent warrior."
Bellatrix felt hope rekindle immediately. She remained silent; her eyes fixed on Lord Voldemort's lips. She couldn't believe what was happening. Was she really facing the Dark Lord?
Lord Voldemort chuckled again, a slightly less cold smile than before. It wasn't yet the same smile he had offered her on the day of her engagement, the one that haunted her dreams, but this one was enough to make her knees tremble.
"We must absolutely work on that mind of yours, above all else," he said, stroking Bellatrix's face with his gaze. "Is Rodolphus Lestrange aware of your presence here tonight?"
"No, my lord."
Lord Voldemort looked at her for a moment longer, with suspicion.
"Perfect," he simply said.
"Does that mean you accept me into your ranks?" Bellatrix dared to ask hopefully.
He smiled at her in a way that Bellatrix deemed less cold than before. It wasn't yet the same smile he had offered her on the day of her engagement, the one that haunted her dreams, but this one was enough to make her knees tremble.
"We will have to meet again to discuss this, Miss Black... Be here on Thursday at midnight, and we will try to talk about it."
He then turned his gaze to Enguerrand Avery, who had not moved during the exchange between Bellatrix and Voldemort. The Death Eater simply nodded. Voldemort then looked at Bellatrix again.
"Not a word of this to anyone in the meantime, Miss Black," he announced with a pointed look.
"Of course, my lord."
"Very well. I just have to wish you a very good night, Miss Black. Goodbye."
"Goodbye..."
Lord Voldemort had already disappeared with a barely audible "pop." Bellatrix felt her breath and heart slowly slowing down as the seconds ticked by. She turned to Enguerrand Avery, who was contemplating her sceptically.
"If this is truly your desire, Miss Black, I can only advise you to be brave... A woman among Death Eaters will not please everyone..."
Bellatrix said nothing. She just smiled.
XxXxXxX
The sounds of the house were gradually fading. Narcissa seemed troubled by some problem: her plaintive whimpers could be heard as Druella scolded her with exasperation. Meanwhile, Andromeda was listening to music at a low volume in her room. Bellatrix didn't recognise the song (the singer was talking about a yellow submarine!), but she chalked it up to Andromeda's eccentric tastes.
Lying on her bed, Bellatrix focused on her breathing, which was neither calm nor steady. She exhaled forcefully. Suddenly, she regretted only owning tightly fitted bodice dresses. It had been a while since she had worn anything other than these long, shapely, snug dresses that accentuated her hips and neckline. She sat up on her bed and swung her legs to the side. Merlin, what a fool she was! She felt apprehension rising within her. It would soon be nine o'clock, and insignificant tiny hours separated her from her new encounter with the Dark Lord. To say she was nervous was an understatement. Bellatrix had gone through her wardrobe twenty times, wondering which dress she could wear. She wanted the Dark Lord to take her seriously, but she refused to choose an outfit completely different from what she usually wore. It seemed important to her that Lord Voldemort understood her temperament, who she was when she wasn't reduced to foolish babbling in front of him.
What would he ask her to do? Would she measure up? Since returning from Enguerrand Avery's home a few days earlier, Bellatrix had been unable to focus on anything other than Lord Voldemort. Their meeting had replayed in her mind for hours, tracing the extent of her stupid behaviour and the crushing power that the Dark Wizard held over her. Just thinking about it, Bellatrix felt her cheeks flush and her legs tremble.
Sometimes at Hogwarts, she had thought that Lord Voldemort couldn't be as formidable and intoxicating as the first time she had seen him. She had been so young, so easily impressed that she had sometimes thought she must have exaggerated. It wasn't like her to embellish reality, and she should have remembered that. At the first hours of her adulthood, Bellatrix had been ensnared by the Dark Wizard once again. More than ever, his voice, his eyes, his aura irresistibly attracted her. She was embarrassed to admit it, but Lord Voldemort embodied absolute power for her. He was so tall, so beautiful, so powerful. She ardently desired him... Since their second meeting, Bellatrix had dreamed of him in a way that was undignified, mortifying to her. In the throes of sleep and the absurdity of her dreams, she had felt the embrace of his arms, the touch of his bare skin against hers, the tone of his voice resonating against her neck, and the deployment of his strength exerted between her thighs... Bellatrix was horribly embarrassed to have had such graphic dreams about the Dark Lord. Sexual desire, strong as it might be, should be stifled. She was perfectly terrified at the thought of him discovering the impure thoughts that ran through her mind. And yet, despite herself, a single memory of her dreams made her clench her thighs tighter, trapping within her the ardent desire to touch the Dark Lord.
Bellatrix sighed and lay back down once more. She waited for the minutes to pass with both fear and impatience. Motionless, almost lethargic, she watched her house fall asleep once again. A few more minutes elapsed, and it was time to get up. With her heart already pounding a little, Bellatrix grabbed her black summer cloak and made her way to the living room. Tightening her grip on the Floo powder in her fist, Bellatrix closed her eyes, exhaled, and gathered all her courage before stepping into the fireplace. A few seconds later, she was back in the middle of the Avery Residence's living room.
XxXxXxX
The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the fireplace, which was smothering its last glowing embers. Bellatrix scanned the living room and its corners, but there seemed to be no other soul present. She settled into one of the well-padded armchairs, which creaked slightly under her weight. Not a sound could be heard. She could almost hear her heart beating.
She waited for long minutes without daring to move, her eyes fixed on the dying fire in the fireplace. Just when she least expected it, Lord Voldemort appeared before her without making a single sound. To this day, he was the only person she knew who could Apparate without being horribly noisy. Bellatrix rose immediately.
"Miss Black, unfortunately, I've had an unfortunate delay; I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long," he said.
"Oh no, my lord, not at all," Bellatrix replied with a forced smile.
He was dressed in his usual black cloak, the hood still covering his face. In the almost total darkness of the room, it was impossible to discern the features of his face. Bellatrix found it even more difficult to face him without being able to read the expressions crossing his face.
"Do you know how to Apparate, Miss Black?" Lord Voldemort asked in a neutral, measured tone.
"Yes, I got my license this year."
"Perfect. You'll be able to join me by yourself next time."
Next time... A shiver ran down the girl's spine as Lord Voldemort extended his hand. Bellatrix observed the mage's long, slender, white fingers, looking troubled.
"Where are we going?" she asked in a rushed breath.
"This house, despite belonging to one of my most loyal allies, is not secure enough for what we need to discuss... I'm taking you to a safe place."
Headquarters? His place? Bellatrix was surprised. She had imagined that their discussion could very well take place in the Avery's living room, which seemed to her, in her humble opinion, sufficiently protected.
"Trust me," Lord Voldemort encouraged, his hand still outstretched.
Bellatrix approached and could then distinguish a faint smile hidden behind the shadow of his hood. She placed her trembling hand in Lord Voldemort's. His hand was icy but very soft. The Dark Lord's fingers closed around her hand more tightly and drew her closer to him. The sudden proximity to the Dark Lord caused a mixture of fear and excitement in Bellatrix. He was so tall that she only reached his chest. His scent, the same as she had detected on the day of her engagement, was particularly heady. It enchanted her already. A smell of crushed leaves, of a burgeoning forest with a distant, subtle and unknown reminder, even harsher and colder. Bellatrix was already captivated by this particular smell. She looked up into the Dark Lord's eyes.
"Ready, Miss Black?"
She nodded. Apparition wasn't her preferred mode of transportation, but the discomfort was more than compensated for by being with Lord Voldemort. When her feet touched the ground again, she was somewhat disoriented. It took her several seconds to adjust to the different light that prevailed in these places.
"Where are we?" she asked, noticing a slight echo chasing her voice.
The room she was in was large, very cold, and almost empty. The walls made of cut stone were covered with dampness and sometimes with worrying dark stains. Light came from torches irregularly arranged on the four walls of the room. There was neither entrance nor exit, and when Bellatrix looked up at the ceiling, she realized that it was very high but offered absolutely no way out. A certain discomfort arose in the pit of her stomach.
"It's still too early for me to entrust you with this," Lord Voldemort replied. "Are you afraid?"
"No," Bellatrix immediately replied.
A somewhat dusty wooden bench sat in one corner of the room. Voldemort sat down and invited Bellatrix to do the same. She sat at the other end of the bench, but even so, only a few unfortunate inches separated her from the Dark Wizard. He turned to her and pulled back his hood, allowing Bellatrix an unhindered view. His eyes were black but streaked with blood-red flashes, fixed on her with seriousness.
"Miss Black, are you absolutely sure you want to become a Death Eater?" he asked in an even tone.
"Yes, it would be an honour, my lord," she replied sincerely.
"Since when have you wanted to join my ranks?"
Bellatrix hesitated for a moment.
"Since the day I met you, my lord."
A slight silence fell but was soon interrupted by Lord Voldemort:
"Becoming a Death Eater is irreversible, are you aware of that?"
"Yes."
"Should I fear any feminine sensibility?" Voldemort asked, his face closed in an impenetrable expression.
"No! I am as strong as any man!" Bellatrix assured.
Lord Voldemort then allowed himself a smile.
"Young impetuous girl... I don't particularly like loud voices; you will need to control that in the future."
"Of course, my lord."
"What do you expect from Lord Voldemort, Miss Black?"
"Nothing..." Bellatrix replied, nibbling on her lower lip.
"Come now, it is far too late to lie..."
"I don't want to be just a married woman," Bellatrix confessed, "I want to act, to be by your side... I want to fight."
"What a speech worthy of a Gryffindor," remarked the Dark Wizard with amusement.
"I have nothing to do with those blood traitors, I simply want to fight for my beliefs... and for you."
Lord Voldemort stood up and fixed a piercing, black gaze on Bellatrix:
"Lord Voldemort knows how to reward his faithful: joining me means power, victory, glory. By becoming a Death Eater, I will be able to fulfil your wildest dreams for the price only of your loyalty and fidelity."
"I have only this dream," Bellatrix confessed, her heart pounding.
Lord Voldemort considered her for a moment. The temperature seemed, if it was even possible, to drop a few degrees further. The Dark Lord's gaze was now cold but revealed the immensity of his power. The young girl understood that the moment was important.
"Your case is somewhat special, Bellatrix. You are engaged to one of my Death Eaters, but I refuse to disclose the identity of my recruits until they are marked, and even then, I may choose never to reveal the names of my Death Eaters. Once marked, my dear Bellatrix, you will be the target of a significant number of enemies, but you will also be under my protection. Considering your young age and your condition as a woman, it is imperative that you have a high level of training. That is why you will only be marked when I decide. This does not exempt you from being, from this day forth, my servant and ally. I expect unwavering loyalty and absolute discretion from you. I promise you that you will receive the Dark Mark and become a Death Eater, but it is important for us to guard against any type of threat before then. Bellatrix, do you accept to serve me until the end of your life in exchange for the powers and rewards I will offer you?"
Bellatrix, trembling, knelt before the Dark Lord.
"I will be your most devoted servant, my lord... I promise," she said, her eyes lowered.
He approached her, lifted her chin, and plunged his abyssal gaze into hers. A long moment passed, then finally, in a low, hoarse voice, he spoke again:
"Are you truly ready to bind your life to mine, Bellatrix?"
"Yes..." she gasped, feeling excitement stirring between her legs.
Voldemort's eyes travelled along the proud, haughty face of the young girl. His hand still supporting Bellatrix's chin, the Dark Wizard let his thumb gently stroke her full, sensual lips. With darkened eyes, he calmly observed her, revealing no emotion on his face.
"A girl in my ranks..." he murmured finally with a slight, incredulous smile.
Bellatrix was both frozen and burning. The icy thumb passing over her lips deeply electrified her. For a fleeting moment, Bellatrix ardently desired to touch the man before her. Voldemort turned abruptly.
"Do you know the Unforgivable Curses, Bellatrix?"
"Only by name," she replied, feeling a bit disoriented.
"Oh yes, I almost forgot, I demand that my Death Eaters call me Master. Even though you are not technically one of my Death Eaters yet, I will ask you to call me that now that your training has begun. Understood?"
"Yes, Master."
"Perfect," he replied.
Bellatrix stood up. Voldemort now stood a few meters away from her. Once again, his demeanour had changed. From the charm of the Dark Lord, to the seriousness of the Master, she now faced the severity of the warrior. Cold, focused, and incisive, he watched his new student without compassion, in an almost ascetic contemplation.
He made a circular gesture with his hand. The next second, a bloodied man, bound to the stone wall, appeared in a corner of the room. He seemed in a sorry state and particularly frightened. Bellatrix suspected that the man must have been rendered invisible by the Dark Lord, just as he had done in Enguerrand Avery's office.
"Let's start with the easiest: the Imperius Curse," Lord Voldemort proposed, a cruel smile on his lips.
XxXxXxX
Upon the thick carpet of the lounge, her footsteps made not a sound despite their slow pace. Bellatrix was so exhausted that she no longer cared about waking her family. The ascent up the creaky old wooden staircase was more arduous, requiring her to gather her last remaining strength to reach her room. Still clad in her fitted dress and cape, which she hadn't taken off all evening, Bellatrix collapsed onto the hard mattress of her bed. Behind her impeccably clean window, a rosy summer dawn illuminated her room with gentle light. With heavy eyelids, she gazed at the peaceful morning landscape for a few minutes before sinking into a sleep where no rest was granted. Her battered body and cluttered brain left her sleepless and anxious.
Barely two hours later, Druella Black came knocking at the door. Bellatrix's leaden sleep didn't predispose her to sudden awakenings, and she saw her mother appear before her bed in a state of obvious fury.
"Bellatrix, it's nine o'clock! Get up now!" she exclaimed, staring at her daughter with a certain disgust.
"Mother, let me sleep a little longer…"
"Ungrateful child!"
Confused, Bellatrix felt her mother seize both her arms with an iron grip and deliver violent slaps to her cheeks.
"Where were you last night? Your father waited for you to come home this morning! Where were you?" Druella demanded in a furious and trembling rage.
"Nowhere," Bellatrix weakly defended herself.
Her mother's slaps had awakened her, but her throat was dry, and the words seemed unwilling to come out correctly.
"Liar! You didn't even bother to undress!"
Her mother's cries caused Bellatrix a violent headache. However, she reluctantly opened her eyes wider and tried to appear more awake.
"Mother, I just went for a walk… I did nothing wrong…"
A dry and cold, distinctly masculine laugh suddenly rang out. Bellatrix turned her eyes to the entrance of her room. Leaning against the doorframe was Rodolphus Lestrange. He was dressed in a black suit topped with a coat of the same colour fastened by two rows of silver buttons. The young woman had to admit that the young man was very elegant, and it unsettled her. Rodolphus' presence in her room should have made her furious, but she still felt too weak to confront him.
"Is that how you go for a walk?" he said sardonically.
Bellatrix glanced at her clothes. During her short sleep, the two folds of her cape had separated, revealing the suggestive dress she was wearing. A deep anger began to rise within her. She cast a venomous glance in Rodolphus' direction.
"I dress like this every day," she replied lazily, with a hint of venom in her voice.
Druella shot her daughter a dark look and then left the room, brushing past her future son-in-law with her head bowed. As soon as she was gone, Rodolphus stepped into the room, closed the door, and walked purposefully towards Bellatrix, who was still half lying on her bed.
"What are you doing? Get out of here!" she protested; her eyebrows furrowed.
Rodolphus paid no heed. Upon closer inspection, Bellatrix realized that he seemed extremely agitated. A thick vein had appeared on his temples, and his jaw was firmly clenched. Weary, Bellatrix let herself fall back onto her bed, her head raised by one of her many excessively padded pillows.
"I came to give you this, but I shouldn't have, obviously," spat Rodolphus, bitterness and contempt evident in his voice.
Bellatrix then noticed that he was holding a bouquet of flowers in his right hand. He tossed the bouquet rather violently onto her bedside table and sighed heavily.
"Why are you doing this to me, Bellatrix? Is your goal truly to humiliate me in front of everyone?"
"Rodolphus…"
"No, don't speak. I wanted to tell you in person that I was sorry for what happened at Christmas… I could have done it much earlier if you had agreed to see me, or at least replied to my letters. I don't know where you were last night, but I think I have an idea given your fatigue and dishevelled appearance…"
"You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Rodolphus…"
"Who is it? Another fool you've seduced and will make suffer like you did with me?"
Unable to restrain herself, Bellatrix let out an incredulous laugh at the thought of her seducing or making the Dark Lord suffer—the very concept was utterly ridiculous. Of course, Rodolphus was far from imagining that she had spent the most exhausting yet exhilarating night of her life trying to master the Imperius Curse in an extremely advanced way.
"I'm glad that amuses you," muttered Rodolphus between his teeth.
With a swift movement, he grabbed Bellatrix's chin and forced her to look him in the eyes.
"If you think you can cancel our marriage in this way, you're mistaken, my dear Bella. You can go and kiss whoever you want, but in a few weeks, whether you like it or not, it will be me who will fuck you like the bitch you are…"
Bellatrix spat in his face. Immediately, Rodolphus responded by slapping her even harder than Druella had. Suddenly awake and furious, Bellatrix struck back. The two young people found themselves fighting furiously on the bed. Wedged between the mattress and Rodolphus' muscular chest, Bellatrix suddenly realised her obvious physical inferiority and berated herself for not having taken her wand. In a flash of insight, she recalled the memory of Lord Voldemort explaining in a dark and grave voice how to master the Imperius Curse without a wand. Despite her joints burning and the imminent apoplexy inflicted by Rodolphus' blows, she put Lord Voldemort's advice into practice and took possession of her future husband's body.
She forced him to stop his actions and get up. Bellatrix observed his empty eyes for a few seconds before realising she didn't have the strength to maintain the spell any longer. She indicated the way out to him. It was only when she heard him tumbling down the stairs that she consented to let go. Satisfied, Bellatrix locked the door and fell back asleep almost immediately.
Many hours later, she was awakened again, but this time it was by two owls tapping at her window. Refreshed at last, Bellatrix had no trouble getting up to collect the two missives.
The first, unsurprisingly, came from Rodolphus:
"Where on earth did you learn to do that? How can you possibly master the Imperius Curse without a wand? Anyway, I also wanted to say... Sorry about this morning... We really need to talk, Bellatrix.
With affection,
Rodolphus"
Apparently, Rodolphus couldn't master the Imperius Curse without a wand. Had Bellatrix received training that Rodolphus hadn't? Why would Lord Voldemort bother to teach her such a curse when she wasn't even marked yet? Bellatrix didn't know if this was a good sign, but she strangely felt satisfied. A welcome warmth spread in her belly.
Without delay, she opened the second letter and read it:
"Dear Bellatrix,
I see you wasted no time in applying the knowledge I imparted to you. I warned you to be cautious and not to raise suspicions about our activities. Your training continues tonight, same time, same place. Ensure that no one suspects anything.
Lord Voldemort"
With her heart pounding, Bellatrix watched the letter burst into flames. She feared she had made her first major mistake. And she wasn't even formally part of his ranks yet! She hoped with all her heart that Lord Voldemort wouldn't hold it against her. All warmth vanished. Anxiously, Bellatrix lay back down, her eyes fixed on the already cold ashes softly falling onto the thick wool of her bed and the scattered flower petals from Rodolphus's bouquet.