Welcome!

This fanfiction explores mature themes, including emotional manipulation, non-consensual relationships, and various forms of violence—physical, emotional, sexual, and psychological. It delves into complex relationships, morally ambiguous choices, and the darker sides of human behavior. While I strive to remain true to the characters' canon personalities and adhere closely to the details from the books, I also fill in the gaps with my imagination about these two twisted characters.

Please note that this is a dark fic. If you're easily triggered by sexual violence or any form of torture, I recommend proceeding with caution. However, if you enjoy a Gothic atmosphere, villains, and deeply flawed characters, then this fanfiction is for you. Enjoy! :)

BELLATRIX AND HER MASTER

Chapter I: The Fiancée

Summer 1965,

The letter was still crumpled in Bellatrix's hand, her fist clenched around a few brief, cold, and impersonal words. The Hogwarts Express was beginning to slow down as it approached King's Cross station. The young girl struggled to conceal her stress and irritation. Without the whiteness of her fingers clenched on the scrap of parchment and her slumped posture, one could almost have thought she was completely serene. Andromeda Black, her younger sister, watched her critically, knowing that if Bellatrix were to notice her scrutiny, she would probably be met with one of her legendary scowls.

Bellatrix, however, was not at all concerned with what was happening inside the compartment she occupied. She simply watched the blurred landscape passing by the train window. Seated beside her was a girl Andromeda didn't much care for. She was nicknamed "the Ghost" because of her very pale skin and very blond hair. Andromeda knew that the two girls didn't share many common interests. Truth be told, Bellatrix associated with her only because their parents had subtly hinted that it would be inappropriate to reject the sole heiress of the Averys. Andromeda might have tolerated her a bit more if the girl hadn't made it clear that she considered Andromeda just a child deserving of no respect.

Andromeda had just finished her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, while Bellatrix and the Ghost would be starting their fourth year come September. They were all in Slytherin House. Andromeda could have sat with her friends, but she chose to stay with her older sister after receiving a rather mysterious letter from their parents that very morning.

Bellatrix finally tore her gaze away from the window and cast a bored look at her sister and the girl who had been silent since the train's departure.

"You're very quiet, Dromeda, what's wrong?" Bellatrix inquired haughtily.

"It was pointless trying to tear you away from your fascinating observation of the scenery, and your dear friend, the ghost here, doesn't seem inclined to talk," replied Andromeda with an amused smile.

Bellatrix kept an impassive face, but Andromeda knew her remark about the Ghost had pleased her.

"I think your sister is too polite to tell you, but first-years have no business in this compartment. Your presence here prevents us from having a conversation!" exclaimed the young heiress, her expression furious.

"The train is almost there, she doesn't need to leave now," countered Bellatrix.

She was obviously trying not to take sides, but it wasn't without a real effort on her part. Normally, Bellatrix didn't have to exclusively put up with the company of this brainless girl. She was much more often surrounded by older students, mostly boys who were part of Rodolphus Lestrange's circle. The Ghost was always trailing behind, but with a timidness that bordered on pathological, and in accordance with the education she had received, she never spoke when she was in the company of the school's boys. And that suited Bellatrix just fine!

The other girls in her year at Slytherin were not excessively disagreeable, but they didn't resemble her. A bit dim-witted, not an ounce of daring. They didn't interest her. Avery, with her timid personality, had quickly turned to the only lonely girl like herself, and thus Bellatrix became the only friend of the "Ghost" at Hogwarts.

"Why didn't you sit with Rodolphus and the others?" Andromeda asked, her curious eye glancing fleetingly towards the letter Bellatrix still held.

The girl's gaze darkened as her fingers tightened even more around the letter, two small red dots appeared on her cheeks, then she turned back to the window. She was obviously in a great anger, and Andromeda had an idea why. Andromeda couldn't help but admire her sister's composure. With her explosive temperament, Bellatrix frequently lost her temper. The fact that she was trying to conceal her anger at this moment indicated that the matter was serious. Andromeda had always thought that among their family, Bellatrix was the one with the strongest character. Perhaps it was because she was the eldest in the family, but Bellatrix had always been at the centre of the liveliest discussions. Initially, it was because of her beauty. Bellatrix was a tall girl for her age with perfectly defined features, straight and sharp like all Blacks. Her lips were full, almost luscious, giving her a certain sensuality. Everyone said that Andromeda and Bellatrix resembled each other. Their main difference lay in their hair colour: Bellatrix had long, heavy black hair while Andromeda had a brown mane like her eyes. Despite their resemblance, Andromeda often thought that her older sister had something more that left no one indifferent. Perhaps it was her dark gaze or her haughty and proud attitude.

The train pulled into King's Cross and came to a rather abrupt stop at Platform 9¾. Bellatrix retrieved her suitcase and her sister's, then bid farewell to Avery, who offered her a smile in gratitude. As the two sisters stepped off the train, the platform was already crowded with students hurrying to reunite with their families. Andromeda wasn't sure if she was truly happy to be going home: she had missed her parents a little, but as always when she was with them, a knot was already forming in the pit of her stomach. As her eyes roamed over the expanse of the platform, searching for her parents, they met the gaze of a woman she knew well but would have preferred to forget.

"Aunt Walburga?" Andromeda whispered anxiously to her sister.

Bellatrix shot her an annoyed look.

"I didn't want to discuss it in the presence of this translucent idiot, but our parents told me in the letter that we're supposed to spend two weeks with Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion before going home," Bellatrix explained with some concern.

"But... why?" Andromeda breathed, her panicked eyes turning towards her older sister.

Bellatrix sighed as they slowly approached the austere, haughty, and cold couple waiting at the far end of the platform.

"Don't worry, Dromeda, I don't think our parents did this to punish you. " Bellatrix replied in a low voice before planting an airy kiss on her aunt and uncle's cheeks.

"Hello, Uncle and Aunt!" she exclaimed in a falsely cheerful tone.

Andromeda, her shoulders slightly slumped, mimicked her sister but couldn't help but notice Bellatrix's clenched jaw, closed fists, and dark glare. Clearly, the girl's explosive temperament was being put to the test. Andromeda was even surprised that she hadn't shown the extent of her anger yet.

Walburga Black, their father's sister, and Orion Black, their father's cousin, looked at them sternly. They shot them a frosty glance, then Walburga gestured towards one of the fireplaces on the platform, indicating they should leave.

"Twelve Grimmauld Square," grumbled Bellatrix before being engulfed by green flames.

XxXxXxX

When they entered the drawing room of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, the two sisters quickly noticed that the room hadn't changed at all since their last visit at Christmas. The sumptuous tapestries still adorned the dark walls, the imposing marble fireplace was still cluttered with numerous family photos where the protagonists vied for austerity. The room was dimly lit due to the heavy blood-red curtains that sternly framed the two large French windows of the drawing-room; it was still too early to illuminate the room with the thousand candles contained in the enormous chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Bellatrix appreciated the Black Manor. It was the unmistakable symbol of the greatness and purity of her family. She regretted that her father hadn't inherited it, but the Black family home was no longer part of their family estate. It had been built by Phineas Nigellus Black, one of the most illustrious Headmasters of Hogwarts, and he had bequeathed it to his first son. Orion Black, her uncle, was the descendant of this first son and was now the master of the house.

However, Bellatrix and her two sisters often came here because the Noble House of Black continued to be officially located at 12 Grimmauld Square. Furthermore, her father's sister, Walburga, was now married to Orion Black, providing a second reason for Bellatrix's parents to visit the residents of the Black Manor very often.

Her aunt and uncle landed in their drawing room shortly after the two sisters. Walburga cast an inquisitive glance at them before allowing herself a slight smile.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," she assured, "Still as lovely, Bellatrix, and you, Andromeda, you look more and more like your sister! You've grown so much since Christmas."

Bellatrix noticed that her aunt avoided looking her in the eye. Orion Black called for the house-elf to come and relieve them of their cloaks and luggage before settling on one of the three plush sofas in the drawing room.

"Andromeda, I'm sure you're eager to say hello to your cousins. Sirius and Regulus are upstairs," he said.

Andromeda cast a somewhat surprised glance at Bellatrix but complied without further ado. She greatly appreciated Sirius and Regulus, their young cousins of six and five years old. When Bellatrix was alone with her uncle and aunt, she felt anger wash over her once again. She knew the reason for this visit to the cradle of the Black family rather than to her home, her father's manor. Her parents wanted to remind her that she was the worthy descendant of a prestigious, honourable family, and of an impossible impeccability both in blood and dignity.

Walburga and Orion Black were well known in England for representing the ideals of the noble Pure-Bloods; their blood was of absolute perfection as they were both descendants of the Noble and Ancient House of Black.

Walburga invited her niece to sit on one of the sofas. Bellatrix chose the one closest to the door and as far away from her uncle as possible. If Aunt Walburga could be intimidating, it was nothing compared to the nervous and irascible temperament of Orion Black.

"My dear brother and his wife must have already explained to you the reason for your visit here, haven't they?" Walburga asked coldly.

"He explained that I needed to be prepared," replied Bellatrix, her jaw clenched.

"Exactly, my dear. Your father entrusted me with the task of instilling proper manners in you. It seems that you are not very delicate for a woman. It is unseemly to declare to anyone who will listen that you do not wish to marry. How could you defy your father's law and risk the extinction of the noble blood of the Blacks?"

In the letter Bellatrix had received, her parents had half-heartedly explained that her education was not the most perfect and that it was time for her to receive the necessary instructions to become a good wife. Obviously, her father had heard about her escapades at Hogwarts: her frequent outings with the Slytherin boys, the mischief they got up to after curfew. It was always very frowned upon for a girl to be seen with boys even if all they did was roughhouse and fight.

"I simply don't want to be reduced to the mere status of a 'mother,' I don't want to have children... I am a witch, not a broodmare!"

Aunt Walburga seemed to find her words scandalous, her eyes narrowed menacingly, and for a moment her dark gaze resembled that of a viper ready to strike. However, it was Uncle Orion who responded, with a mocking chuckle.

"My dear niece... Your father is a fool! Since you were a child, he has not ceased to praise your qualities. 'What a brilliant witch, so precocious and beautiful!' he would say. Your father had not thought that you would become so ungrateful, so disobedient. Who do you think you are, Bellatrix? Do you think you have a say in the decisions of your ancestors?"

"I'm not seeking conflict, Uncle," replied Bellatrix, her voice trembling with rage.

"Even if you were seeking it, my dear niece, it would be quickly aborted. Your father and I have spoken at length. I let him know that dishonour from a Black could seriously tarnish our reputation. I don't want our blood to be stained. It is said that at Hogwarts, you enjoy meeting certain boys in their dormitories..."

"That's not true!" interrupted Bellatrix, her voice strong. "I honour my blood and my family."

"Your behaviour raises many eyebrows in our family, however," continued Uncle Orion. "My wife will teach you proper manners, perhaps starting with 'it is incorrect to interrupt one's ancestors.'"

Bellatrix didn't respond, trying to keep her calm despite the anger she felt deep in her belly.

"So we've come to the most delicate part of our conversation," Orion continued in a calm and measured tone, "your father has decided to marry you off, my dear niece."

Bellatrix wasn't surprised, but she couldn't deny that this information filled her with horror nonetheless. She had sensed this decision for months, and the letter received in the mail that morning had confirmed her suspicions, even if her parents had remained rather vague.

"The engagement will take place in fifteen days," her uncle finally concluded with a mocking smile.

Bellatrix glared at him.

"By tradition, it will take place here, in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," Walburga Black added.

Then her face became pensive as she observed Bellatrix.

"Fifteen days... It will be difficult, but I have high hopes. I'm sure the blood of the Blacks will resurface. We'll be able to make something of you."

Bellatrix felt her magic surge through her veins. The chandelier trembled above their heads, threatening to knock over a few candles. Casting one last dark look at her uncle and aunt, she left the room. She knew her behaviour was extremely impolite, but if her uncle, aunt, and parents expected her to miraculously become a meek, obedient little wife, they were all very mistaken. It would take much more than that to tame Bellatrix Black.

XxXxXxX

The past fortnight had been terribly trying for young Bellatrix. Walburga forced her to rise at five every morning, much to Bellatrix's annoyance, as she had planned to spend every morning of her holidays sleeping in and lounging about. After the arduous awakening, Bellatrix was compelled to gulp down a revolting breakfast meant to give her a fair complexion (her uncle and aunt strongly cast unwarranted doubts about her virginity despite Bellatrix's vehement protests). While the young girl was not ignorant of what went on in the older boys' dormitories, she had never ventured there herself. A virgin she was, and she had no desire to change that fact.

Walburga also took delight in dressing her niece in tightly laced corsets and dresses that made breathing painful. However, Bellatrix could see after a furtive glance in the mirror that these dresses suited her perfectly. It was then that she truly realised what boys could see in her when they looked at her. The only detail that bothered her was the floral patterns her aunt had chosen: they were embarrassingly naff. When her aunt looked away, Bellatrix changed the colour of her dresses to uniformly black. Clad thus, in a long dress, with a pronounced neckline and a waist cinched by beautiful black fabrics, she felt more like a woman and more important than ever. She felt like herself.

The most difficult thing for Bellatrix was to keep herself in check during the "etiquette lessons" imparted by her aunt. With wand strikes on her fingers, Walburga endeavoured to give Bellatrix a perfect posture when sitting, eating, and standing. A real torture for Bellatrix! Her outbursts of anger were numerous. She had thus smashed all the porcelain in Walburga's kitchen after receiving yet another correction.

Andromeda silently sympathised when her older sister came to bed in the evenings, exhausted and furious. Sometimes, she would whisper an encouraging word, which Bellatrix would silence with an annoyed flick of her tongue.

On the last day before the engagement, Walburga ordered the house-elf to thoroughly clean the house, especially the drawing room and the dining room where the guests would be present. Bellatrix's parents were expected to arrive the next morning, accompanied by Narcissa, her eleven-year-old sister. The patriarch of the Lestrange family, Reginaldus, along with his two sons Rodolphus and Rabastan, were expected in the afternoon. Bellatrix had also learned that Enguerrand Avery, the father of the Ghost, was also invited. She hoped with all her heart that he would not bring his idiotic daughter with him. She feared that other people might come because Orion Black wanted to make this event a small social dinner to once again promote the noble blood of the Blacks. Reginaldus and Enguerrand were old friends from Orion and his father Cygnus Black's Hogwarts days, slightly older and highly respected in their sphere; it was always fashionable to invite them to such events, much to Bellatrix's chagrin.

The night before the fateful day, Bellatrix slept very poorly. She had horrible dreams in which she had to stand upright, a dozen books piled on her head while Rodolphus tried to grope her through her robes, under the approving gaze of her uncle and father.

She got up early without her aunt's prompting and went down to the kitchen with heavy steps. Unsurprisingly, she found Sirius already seated, a bowl of milk in front of him. He was nodding off and getting wand strikes on the head from his mother whenever his black hair got too close to his bowl of milk. Bellatrix almost felt sorry for him, but her own impending doom awaited her and did not predispose her to be compassionate.

"Sirius, sit up straight!" Walburga exclaimed sternly before turning to Bellatrix. "You're up! You didn't have to get out of bed so early. It's a big day today, you need to be in good shape."

Walburga then attempted to offer her a smile, but her severe face could only deliver grim and unsettling expressions. Bellatrix did not reply and sat down across from Sirius. He looked at her with a sleepy air, his cheeks still creased by the folds of the sheets.

"'Morning, Bella," he greeted her without enthusiasm.

"Sirius, speak properly or stay silent!" Walburga snapped, her eyes filled with dark flashes. "Eat well, Bellatrix, but not too much. It would be a shame if you were bloated right in the middle of your engagement."

Bellatrix gave her a dark look at the mention of the dreaded word "engagement". I hate her, she thought before serving herself a slice of brioche while the house-elf filled her teacup.

At ten-thirty, Cygnus and Druella Black appeared in the living room through the fireplace network. Bellatrix had had time to wash, dress, and style her hair.

"My daughter!" exclaimed Druella as she gazed at her daughter with pride. "You look lovely."

"Keep your compliments to yourself, mother, I have no desire to hear them today."

Druella fell silent immediately, recognising her eldest daughter's legendary and murderous mood. Her father, on the other hand, stepped forward and gazed at his daughter, fearless and with a hint of satisfaction. Bellatrix suspected that he must appreciate seeing his daughter dressed and coiffed like the most perfect of young ladies to be married off. Bellatrix wanted to scream.

"Walburga has finally managed to give you a bit of elegance. I owe her five Galleons for that."

"One more word, father, and I leave this house immediately!" warned Bellatrix.

"Ah… She has not succeeded in softening your character. Fortunately, Narcissa is of a gentler nature, isn't she, darling 'Cissa?"

With horror, Bellatrix then saw her father, the noble and proud Cygnus Black, stoop to kiss the white cheek of his youngest sister Narcissa. She had barely glimpsed her, hidden behind her mother's skirts. Bellatrix had always known that Narcissa was her parents' favourite: beautiful, docile, calm, and intelligent, she possessed all the qualities to make her a good witch. Moreover, Narcissa was blonde unlike Bellatrix and Andromeda, whose appearance was very similar and representative of the Black family. Narcissa's blonde hair only made her more atypical, attractive, and interesting in the eyes of the whole family.

Bellatrix, on the other hand, was not yet accustomed to her father's displays of affection towards the youngest of the Blacks. Such a show of tenderness could have made Bellatrix jealous, but she had to admit, herself, that her younger sister was adorable (even if she hoped that she would acquire a less bland character later on).

"Good morning, big sister!" she exclaimed with a smile.

Bellatrix gave her a meagre smile.

"Morning, 'Cissa," she replied in a slightly choked voice as her throat suddenly tightened with the realisation that it was unlikely that Narcissa, the adored one, would ever be forced into a forced marriage like hers.

Walburga and Orion finally arrived in the living room to welcome Bellatrix's parents and immediately began to discuss the engagement with enthusiasm.

"My dear cousin!" exclaimed Orion to Cygnus, "these engagements are excellent for our business."

Cygnus raised an intrigued eyebrow as he settled into one of the armchairs.

"Reginaldus has announced that he's bringing some of his friends. He insists on them meeting the next wife of his heir."

"Who has he announced?" asked Bellatrix's father calmly.

"You won't be surprised that Enguerrand Avery is coming, as well as others, but the name of Lord Voldemort has been whispered. Have you heard of him before?"

"Lord Voldemort? Of course, a very talented wizard, though a bit... strange, shall we say. But you know him as well."

"I would be delighted, but I'm afraid not, my dear cousin," replied Bellatrix's uncle.

"Yes, remember, that Slytherin boy a year older than us. He disappeared in recent years, but he's recently returned, and we're starting to see him in the salons of the great families."

A flicker of understanding passed over Orion Black's face. Bellatrix also detected a certain fear.

"Abraxas Malfoy has been singing his praises to me for a few months now," Cygnus added with a complacent smile.

"Abraxas Malfoy? I didn't know you were acquainted with him," said Orion with a hint of jealousy.

Bellatrix looked at him somewhat mockingly. Orion Black was a braggart due to his prominent position in the Black family, and he was always well surrounded. But it seemed too often forgotten that Cygnus Black, although descended from a less prestigious branch of the Blacks, was a remarkably intelligent man whose company was highly sought after in the salons of the great pure-blood families. Having Abraxas Malfoy, that arrogant rich pure-blood, among his friends was quite an asset.

The young girl eventually left the room without thinking any more about Malfoy, Avery, and the Lestranges, but about the sweet name of Lord Voldemort that her father had pronounced with a hint of deference and fear that galvanised her. Who could this Lord be? She had never heard such honorific titles among wizards, apart from the ravings of Orion and Walburga Black about the supposed royal blood flowing in the Blacks. Thoughtful, Bellatrix almost began to look forward to the moment of her engagement.

XxXxXxX

At six o'clock in the evening, the Lestranges entered the Black Manor through the front door. Bellatrix had heard the chime from her room upstairs but didn't deign to come down. The thought of Rodolphus ascending the freshly vacuumed carpet of the entrance hall was already unbearable to her. How dared he constrain her to this marriage, especially when he knew her opinions on the matter so well? Bellatrix wondered once again with despair.

Andromeda cast her a curious glance.

"Aren't you coming down?"

Bellatrix didn't reply, anxiously chewing her lower lip. She gazed at the door with dismay. She didn't want to lose her composure, but her blood already seemed to be boiling in her veins as fear insidiously crept in for the first time since her uncle had announced their engagement. She had no choice, despite all the schemes she had concocted in the night to deceive herself. If she didn't want to alienate her family, of which she was still very proud, she would have to yield to her father's decision.

She glanced at her sister, who seemed to understand, and offered her a sad smile. Then, armed with a courage she had thought non-existent, she descended the staircase, carrying with her all the dignity and pride that a Black could muster. If Rodolphus wanted her, he would have to deal with her character, and who knows, he might reconsider his decision before their marriage.

Reginaldus Lestrange, his wife, and his two sons stood on the threshold of the drawing-room, exchanging the usual pleasantries with her parents and uncle. Rodolphus's father was a tall man of forty: his hair was graying at the temples, which did not soften his stern face and icy blue eyes. There was something unsettling behind his gaze that conveyed no warmth. Rodolphus hadn't inherited such a menacing aura. His eyes were rather vacant, lacking intelligence and any form of allure for Bellatrix.

She met his gaze as she descended the last steps. He seemed literally entranced, his eyes shamelessly traveling along her body: he lingered for a long time on her décolletage before meeting her eyes again. He must have read something unpleasant there because his Adam's apple seemed to twitch for a moment. Bellatrix finally joined her father, hoping her steps appeared measured despite her own nervousness.

Andromeda wasn't far behind her, along with Narcissa, who observed the scene with curiosity.

Rodolphus seemed lost for a moment, then awkwardly bowed.

"Delighted to see you again, Bellatrix," he said ceremoniously.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, noting the formality he had just used. During their many adventures at Hogwarts, he had been far from formal. Quite the opposite.

"I wish I could say the feeling is mutual," replied Bellatrix with a radiant smile.

Rodolphus blushed slightly, but Bellatrix could tell he was trying to suppress a smirk. So, this situation seemed amusing to him! That irritated Bellatrix even more, if that was possible. She felt her father's disapproving gaze on her but refused to look up at him. Soon, the Black and Lestrange families settled into the opulent drawing-room of the manor.

"So here's the famous Bellatrix Black!" exclaimed Reginaldus Lestrange, now comfortably seated in an armchair, a glass of firewhisky in hand.

Bellatrix, still standing amidst the numerous sofas and armchairs in the room, felt uneasy under the scrutinising gaze of the man. Her father and uncle exchanged a smug smile when Reginaldus's expression turned into a satisfied smirk.

"You have good taste, my son," he decreed.

"How could he not when it's an heiress Black?" chimed in Cygnus, a hint of pride in his voice.

Bellatrix felt worse than ever under all these eyes on her. Even the most assured of young ladies would have faltered, she thought.

"Thick black hair, slightly wavy, ample hips capable of bearing a Lestrange. She has no shortage of assets, that's true", Cygnus added.

Bellatrix's father gave a faint smile, but she sensed him slightly annoyed, which reassured her somewhat. She wasn't a piece of meat in a market stall! Her already quite dark eyes darkened even more.

The adults commented on her physique for a few more seconds before asking Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Rodolphus, and Rabastan to leave the room while they settled the terms of the contract. An alliance between two such pure and influential families was a boon but shouldn't be taken lightly.

As soon as the teenagers were out, Rodolphus stepped towards Bellatrix, a mocking smile on his lips.

"I need to talk to you in private," he said confidently.

Bellatrix recognised now the boy who was accustomed to always being surrounded by an impressive number of admirers at Hogwarts. Rodolphus wasn't lacking in audacity, but the mocking yet apprehensive look he cast upon her annoyed her tremendously. Nevertheless, she nodded and led him to the manor's library, while Rabastan, younger than Rodolphus, accompanied his two sisters upstairs.

Bellatrix closed the library door behind her and then turned to Rodolphus, giving him the deadliest glare she could muster. However, he wasn't looking her in the eyes but rather admiring her dress.

"Oh, Black, I never thought I'd see you dressed in such a gown!" he hissed lasciviously.

Bellatrix couldn't take it anymore. All the frustration accumulated over the past two weeks surged through her veins at an alarming rate. Deprived of her wand, she lunged at Rodolphus with bare hands and slapped him with all her might. The young man lost his balance, holding his face in his hands. Bellatrix paid no attention and continued to assault him.

"How could you do this to me, you vile, degrading maggot!" she exclaimed as he tried to shield himself from her blows.

"Black, calm down!" he said between the hits.

"Calm down? Who do you think you are? How dare you propose this ridiculous marriage! How could I ever want to marry you!"

"I didn't think it would disgust you to this extent; you seem to enjoy being with me at Hogwarts."

Driven by hysteria, Bellatrix screamed and threw all the books she could grab at him. Rodolphus grabbed her arms and pinned her against one of the library's pieces of furniture.

"Let me go! Idiot!" she fought back, trying to scratch him.

"NO!" he shouted, "you don't understand, your father would have married you off to someone else. Would you have preferred to marry a fat old wizard, perhaps?"

"Yes! Anything but you!" she retorted fiercely.

Rodolphus laughed.

"You say that because you're angry. When my father told me that your father was considering marrying you off, I couldn't stay silent. I didn't want you to be forced to marry someone awful."

"Oh, don't tell me you wanted to marry me out of the goodness of your heart; you've been dreaming of fucking me ever since you figured out how that tiny little member between your legs works!" she exclaimed.

"Don't judge that before we're married, my dear; you might be surprised," he replied with a smirk.

She shot him the darkest look she could muster before delivering a violent kick to his shin. He staggered back, stifling a curse under his breath. At that moment, the door burst open, and Aunt Walburga stormed into the library.

"What are you two ruffians doing?" she bellowed. "Your father's friends, young Rodolphus, have arrived, and we heard your shouting from afar. Hurry back to the drawing-room and behave yourselves, do your families proud, by Merlin!" she roared in black fury.

This time, when Bellatrix re-entered the Black Manor's drawing-room, she couldn't miss the numerous new arrivals who had settled in. A timid buzz of conversations emanated from the sofas. She could smell the aromatic scents wafting from the kitchen, indicating that the house-elf was soon finishing preparing dinner. Bellatrix felt a certain apprehension as all eyes in the room turned towards her when she advanced further into the room.

She felt Rodolphus brush past her and sit next to his father with quick, nervous steps. Bellatrix watched him with disdain.

"We've finished negotiating the final details, my daughter," her father announced in a voice graver than usual, almost hoarse.

Bellatrix furrowed her brows at his demeanour, then immediately remembered Lord Voldemort. At that moment, she discerned a tall, imposing figure standing out against the fading evening light. The man stood by one of the windows in the drawing-room, gazing intently at her.

Bellatrix felt her knees tremble. She couldn't distinguish the features of his face in the backlight, but the entirely different atmosphere of the room seemed to emanate from him. And judging by the awkward postures of the other people in the room, she couldn't be the only one feeling this unease in the pit of her stomach.

"Master, allow me to present to you my son's betrothed," Reginaldus Lestrange said with great respect, catching Bellatrix's attention. Why did he call him "master"? Then the man, the only one standing, stepped towards her, moving between the sofas noiselessly like a snake approaching its prey.

Bellatrix's heart began to pound heavily in her chest. She could now perfectly see his face. With black hair, very pale skin, sharp features, the man possessed a strange beauty. The closer he got, the more evident the unreal whiteness of his skin and the abyssal blackness of his eyes became. Bellatrix found him magnificent.

"Miss Black," he murmured in a cold, biting breath.

Bellatrix couldn't utter a word as all words, phrases, or ideas had vanished from her mind. Her heart pounding, she watched as the man leaned in, took her hand, and placed a fleeting kiss upon it, his lips barely touching her skin for an instant. Time seemed to stand still for the young girl as the man's eyes lifted to hers, offering her a smile unnoticed by the others. Never had Bellatrix seen a smile more dreadful, more terrifying.

He straightened up.

"I am Lord Voldemort," he said in a measured voice, which seemed to resonate like a menacing echo in Bellatrix's head.

She bowed her head, trying to follow Walburga's advice, but her limited attention during her lessons suddenly became apparent. She heard the almost silent laughter of the Dark Lord. She must have been the only one to hear it, but that didn't stop her cheeks from flushing with shame. She lowered her gaze.

"At the sound of your fiery outbursts, I had imagined you more loquacious," he confessed in a slightly mocking tone.

Bellatrix then abruptly looked up into the man's eyes, feeling anger surge through her veins once more. She didn't know what to say despite the burning desire she now possessed to present herself in her best light.

The man raised a sceptical eyebrow before turning away and giving a discreet nod of approval to Reginaldus Lestrange. Rodolphus then allowed himself a satisfied smile. Bellatrix frowned.

Lord Voldemort then turned to the other guests. With a cold voice, perfect intonation, he continued:

"My dear friends, unfortunately, I cannot dine with you this evening, but I am sure my absence will hardly be noticed."

Bellatrix thought it would be absolutely impossible, and it was the understatement of the century. She noticed that Lord Voldemort looked more closely at Reginaldus Lestrange, Enguerrand Avery, and a few other guests, among whom Bellatrix recognized Mr. Nott and Rosier.

"Master," they said reverently.

Then he slipped away, passing by Bellatrix, who couldn't help but inhale his scent. She recognised the fresh scent of forests and another undefinable scent that she didn't find unpleasant.

She then turned abruptly towards the door of the drawing-room, wanting to revel in the contemplation of this magnificent man once more. He didn't turn around but closed the double doors of the room without making a gesture. Bellatrix jumped when the doors slammed shut as if the sound had finally awakened her from a dreamy stupor.

Conversations resumed slowly behind her, but Bellatrix's mind was still elsewhere, her heart beating rapidly. Several minutes passed before she regained her composure. The guests were already moving towards the dining room where dinner would be served.

She noticed that Reginaldus Lestrange, as well as Nott, Rosier, and Avery, seemed to know each other very well and shared some jokes that none of the others understood. Cygnus and Orion occasionally exchanged slightly irritated glances. Obviously, they were not part of the same circle as the others.

Bellatrix studied the men carefully during the meal. Through their discussions, she understood that they had known each other at Hogwarts, and they had even been in the same class. They never mentioned Lord Voldemort once, but Bellatrix sensed that the man was the common thread connecting all these men. She wondered if they had also known him at Hogwarts. She didn't dare ask questions. Yet, something eluded her in this room, and she was determined to understand everything that had happened that night.

Soon, it was time to formalise Rodolphus and Bellatrix's engagement. More than ever, she repulsed the idea of getting married. At bedtime, when the manor had become quiet again, she didn't dream of her fiancé but of Lord Voldemort. What a curious name, she thought under her covers. She eventually fell asleep, lulled by the image of the strange and unsettling smile the man had given her. It was by far the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

I'd love to hear what you think! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a review, it really helps and motivates me to keep writing!

SamaraXX