Chapter Ten: The Inner Circle
July 1971
Narcissa and Andromeda were seated in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place, each engrossed in her own reading—Andromeda with a small glossy novel, and Narcissa poring over a long, finely written parchment. Taking advantage of their distraction, Bellatrix sneaked up behind Narcissa and snatched the parchment with a quick swipe.
"Hey! Bella, give that back!" Narcissa exclaimed, immediately jumping up, her cheeks flushing red.
"… If you could find someone trustworthy to accompany you, I'd be happy to meet in a discreet location this week," read Bellatrix aloud in a mocking tone.
Narcissa leapt from her chair, snatching the parchment back from her sister.
"A discreet location? Isn't that a bit inappropriate, don't you think? This Malfoy thinks he can do whatever he likes!" Bellatrix's tone was stern, but a smile broke through her expression, and Narcissa visibly relaxed.
Andromeda and Narcissa had returned from Hogwarts a few days earlier. Andromeda was anxiously awaiting her N.E.W.T. results, but relieved to be done with school. Bellatrix and Rodolphus greeted their parents, as well as their uncle and aunt, and soon everyone sat down for dinner. Sirius, who would be starting Hogwarts in September, kept bombarding Andromeda with questions, while the rest of the Black family enjoyed a satisfied silence after the feast prepared by Kreacher, their house-elf. Rodolphus, with his arm lazily draped around Bellatrix's shoulders, finished sipping his wine with a slight smirk.
"Ah, my dear Orion, you should visit my father's cellar at Lestrange Manor; he'd show you wines far superior to this."
Orion exchanged a disgruntled look with his brother-in-law, Cygnus, clearly unimpressed by Rodolphus's arrogance.
"Oh, we have fine wines for special occasions," Walburga quickly defended. "We just didn't feel tonight's dinner warranted such extravagance."
Rodolphus raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Bellatrix hid a smile behind her napkin. Just then, Sirius's excited voice broke through the conversation:
"And who won the Quidditch Cup this year?"
"Gryffindor," Andromeda answered with a patient smile.
"Oh," he responded, sounding unsure whether that was good or bad news. "I'd love to join the team when I'm old enough."
"Quidditch? Who has time for such frivolities these days!" snapped Walburga. "You'd better focus on your studies when you get to Hogwarts, Sirius."
"Your mother's right," Rodolphus added. "It's no time to be weak, and the Dark Lord has no use for the incapable."
"Not everyone is destined to join a gang of murderers!" Andromeda's voice flared, her temper igniting. "Don't tell Sirius what to do with his life."
"Dromeda…" Bellatrix growled, her voice low and dangerous.
"No, Bellatrix. You and Rodolphus can do what you like with your lives, but don't drag Sirius and Regulus into this, like you did with Rabastan!"
A cold silence settled over the room. While Narcissa and Andromeda knew of Bellatrix's involvement with the Dark Lord's cause, her parents, uncle, and aunt had not been made aware.
"Rabastan didn't need convincing—" Rodolphus started, but was cut off by Druella, Bellatrix's mother.
"What? Are you in his service, Bellatrix?" she demanded, her expression a mix of horror and anger.
Bellatrix cast a long, dark glance at her younger sister before turning to her mother, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"I have the courage of my convictions," she replied, referring to the Black family's passive support of their supremacist ideals.
"The courage of your convictions? And what about your family, Bellatrix? Who will have children when you're struck down by a Killing Curse? Who will take care of your aging parents when you're buried in the ground?"
"Mother, I'm fighting alongside the greatest wizard of all time. I have nothing to fear."
The entire family now watched the exchange in awkward silence. Druella seemed on the verge of exploding, glaring at her daughter in helpless frustration. Suddenly, she turned to her husband.
"And you, does this not bother you? Our daughter announces she's a Death Eater, and you sit there, saying nothing?"
"My dear, times are changing," Cygnus said calmly. "Sooner or later, we will all be forced to make a choice."
Rodolphus raised his wine glass (which, despite Walburga's earlier comments, was good enough for a second round) toward his father-in-law in agreement.
"I knew it would come to this," Druella muttered bitterly, "ever since you decided to marry her off to Reginaldus Lestrange's son. You knew, I knew—we both knew who his friends were at Hogwarts... The world didn't know what Lord Voldemort was capable of back then, but I always suspected. Now, your daughter is at his service, and you're unfazed?"
Bellatrix was intrigued by her mother's words. She knew her father had attended Hogwarts at the same time as Voldemort, but they were separated by a year and had never truly interacted. Cygnus always recalled him as a talented wizard with whom he had exchanged only a few words. Bellatrix had never imagined her mother might know more about the Dark Lord. How could a girl two years younger than him have shared anything significant with Lord Voldemort?
"It's not that I'm unfazed, Druella," Cygnus hissed bitterly. "She's joined the ranks of a powerful wizard's army. If anything, I'm reassured she didn't choose the losing side."
"You've always known I wouldn't follow your path," Bellatrix murmured. "I've always done what I wanted, and I've never regretted my choice."
She pointedly ignored the look Rodolphus shot her. She knew exactly what he was thinking—Maggins, and the tortures he had inflicted on her. She brushed those hated memories aside, fixing her gaze on her mother, who was far from reassured by her eldest daughter's words.
"My dear Druella," said Walburga suddenly, "I must admit I don't quite understand… It's certainly surprising news, especially coming from an heiress, but the Dark Lord seems to represent a tremendous hope for our world."
Druella ignored her sister-in-law without hesitation.
"And if it were Narcissa?" Druella sneered at her husband. "What would you say if our youngest joined his ranks as well?"
Cygnus lowered his gaze. Narcissa, seated quietly at the far end of the table, seemed horrified to be dragged into this conversation that no one had seen coming.
"That won't happen," Bellatrix assured. "The Dark Lord doesn't accept women—I'm the exception."
Rodolphus let out a strange, mocking cough at this, which made Bellatrix raise her eyes towards him, questioning. What did he mean by that? Rodolphus avoided her gaze, and Bellatrix didn't get the chance to ask him, as Druella noisily rose from the table and immediately Disapparated. Cygnus, Narcissa, and Andromeda quickly followed suit, with Andromeda casting a look of dismay at Bellatrix before Disapparating. The whole family seemed somewhat shaken by the outcome of the evening.
Bellatrix and Rodolphus lingered a few more minutes with Walburga, Orion, Sirius, and Regulus before deciding to return to Lestrange Manor. The evening had been a complete disaster.
Once home, Rodolphus and Bellatrix said goodnight to Reginaldus before heading to bed. Bellatrix immediately moved towards her vanity to take off her earrings. Rodolphus followed, wrapping his arms around her.
"I don't think the Dark Lord will be upset that your parents know. It was only a matter of time since your sisters found out," he tried to reassure her, his lips inches from the skin of her neck.
Bellatrix set her earrings down without replying. She pulled away slightly to brush her long black hair. He watched her through the vanity mirror, a faint smile on his face.
"My beautiful warrior," he whispered, admiring her.
"Why did you giggle when I talked about my place at Lord Voldemort's side?"
"Giggle? A man doesn't giggle, Bella. He laughs, chuckles, smirks, sometimes snorts—but he certainly doesn't chuckle!"
"Don't start," she growled, rolling her eyes.
He moved closer again, kissing her hair and then her neck. One of his hands wandered to the neckline of her dress.
"Not now, answer me," she ordered in a firm voice.
Rodolphus continued caressing her, his kisses trailing from her neck to her shoulder blades.
"You'll find out soon enough," he whispered.
She turned towards him abruptly, exasperated. The neckline of her dress revealed the breast he had been touching, and he immediately latched onto it with a bestial growl. Bellatrix sighed as he kissed her hungrily.
Since the day her libido had suddenly awakened, Rodolphus had become more insatiable. Bellatrix couldn't blame him. She had fuelled this desire herself, the intensity of their passions having burned brightly for three days. After that, her desire had just as suddenly faded. Neither Bellatrix nor Rodolphus understood this abrupt return to normalcy, but the heightened passion of those few days had been so rewarding that they didn't dwell on the reason behind the change. Strangely, it had become much easier for Bellatrix to make love, and their sex life had taken on a comfortable, effortless rhythm that made their daily lives bearable.
Bellatrix thought it would be easier to get answers from him once his desire was satisfied. She settled on her vanity, slid her knickers aside with one finger, and let Rodolphus position himself between her legs. He entered her almost immediately. The act didn't last long, but it brought the soothing, comforting drowsiness that Bellatrix had grown to appreciate more and more. Once he was finished, Rodolphus carried Bellatrix to their bed and held her close to his chest. She could still feel his heart beating wildly against hers.
"Is there a woman among the new recruits?" Bellatrix asked, feeling a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach.
"Mmm," Rodolphus murmured with a nod, eyes closed, nearly asleep.
"What's she like?"
There was a hint of fear in Bellatrix's voice. Rodolphus remained silent for a few long seconds as his breathing grew deeper.
"Red-haired," he finally mumbled, tightening his arms around Bellatrix.
Then he fell asleep.
XxXxXxX
Alecto Carrow. That was her name. The second woman accepted into Lord Voldemort's ranks. Bellatrix, seated between Rodolphus and Rabastan to the right of Lord Voldemort, couldn't stop watching her since the meeting began. She was a young woman in her twenties, with long, heavy auburn curls that partially concealed her cold, blue-grey eyes, often warmed by a mocking smile. She wasn't exactly a great beauty—her features were too coarse, her build too solid—but Bellatrix sensed an unnerving confidence and ease about her.
Even from the far end of the table, Alecto dared to look directly into Lord Voldemort's eyes, without fear. She wasn't the only new recruit that day, but all the senior Death Eaters seemed mesmerised by her, Bellatrix included. From their distant seats, the inebriated heads struggled to stay focused on Lord Voldemort. Inevitably, one or two Death Eaters would grossly glance between her fiery curls and the ample décolletage, her pale skin exposed by her tightly-fitted blood-red dress. Bellatrix instantly despised her… She could easily guess the parallels the men had drawn between Alecto Carrow and Bellatrix Lestrange: two powerful, assertive witches with provocative demeanours. But watching her flaunt her charms so shamelessly and eye their Master with such brazen boldness, Bellatrix didn't see a warrior, but a common whore. Was that how the other Death Eaters saw her as well? Was she viewed the same way, especially by her Master?
"I present to you our newcomers: Andrew Crabbe, Walden Macnair, Amycus Carrow, and his sister, Alecto Carrow," Lord Voldemort declared after a brief summary of their recent activities. "I expect you to give them a warm welcome."
At these words, several Death Eaters chuckled quietly, exchanging lecherous glances. Bellatrix was deeply disgusted. After a few minutes of introductions, Lord Voldemort dismissed his followers, except for his closest circle—the first Death Eaters: Reginaldus Lestrange, Enguerrand Avery, Ennius Rosier, Charles Mulciber, Antonin Dolohov, and Georges Nott. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan rose as one, but with a discreet gesture, Voldemort caught the Lestrange couple's attention and motioned for them to sit back down. Bellatrix and Rodolphus struggled to hide their delight, as it was exceedingly rare to be included in this inner circle. They sat in silence, waiting for the room to empty while Voldemort engaged in a low conversation with Avery, seated to his right.
Suddenly, Bellatrix felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and found Alecto Carrow standing behind her chair, a wide smile on her lips.
"You're Bellatrix Lestrange, aren't you?"
Bellatrix wanted to comment on her inappropriate manners but simply nodded without a word.
"What a relief it is to see another woman gracing our cause," Alecto exclaimed, her voice cheerful yet carrying a faint icy undercurrent. "I'm eager to fight alongside you, Bellatrix."
"I hope you get the chance," Bellatrix replied with a slight smile, "because from your introduction, it seems the particular use of your feminine presence in our ranks won't be limited to charming the battlefield."
Bellatrix caught a glimpse of Alecto's crestfallen expression before turning back to the table. She immediately met the almost amused gaze of Lord Voldemort, who had paused his conversation to watch the exchange.
Once the remaining followers had departed, Voldemort spoke again.
"There is one last recruit I must introduce. I cannot risk exposing their identity to all my followers. Follow me."
The eight Death Eaters followed Voldemort down a dark, gloomy corridor leading to his private quarters. In the sitting room stood a man in his thirties with brown hair, standing in the middle of the room.
"This is Augustus Rookwood, currently working in the Department of Mysteries. He has vital information to share with us."
They all took seats on the various sofas in the room. Rookwood's voice was deep and monotone. If the subject hadn't been so serious, Bellatrix would've found it difficult to stay awake.
"Dumbledore has named this group the Order of the Phoenix, and its members are growing in number. It's impossible to know where they gather, but the information I've gathered suggests a location protected by the Fidelius Charm," Rookwood explained impassively.
"Do they pose a serious threat, Master?" Enguerrand Avery asked, holding a glass of Scotch.
"If the group is secret, it probably means Dumbledore suspects we have spies throughout the Ministry of Magic. That can't be a good sign for them," Voldemort replied. "However, we would be foolish to underestimate him… Dumbledore may be an old fool, but he remains one of the most powerful wizards I've ever encountered. If he has chosen to act against us, he will find ways to disrupt us, even within our own ranks. I ask you, therefore, to be vigilant with both new and old recruits. Watch them, make them talk, listen to them, and do not hesitate to report anything, even the smallest thing, that seems strange to you. Is that clear?"
The Death Eaters nodded in agreement. Bellatrix tried not to show it, but she was in ecstasy. She had succeeded! She was now unquestionably part of the Death Eaters whom Lord Voldemort considered the most loyal and faithful. Finally!
XxXxXxX
August 1971
"I'm sorry, Rodolphus," murmured Bellatrix, helpless in the face of her husband's grief.
Reginaldus Lestrange had just been found dead in a tavern in Knockturn Alley, killed, according to witnesses, by a red-haired young man matching the description of Fabian Prewett. According to Augustus Rookwood, the Prewett brothers were members of the Order of the Phoenix. Reginaldus had been on a mission for the Dark Lord at the time. The news had not been easy for him to take. Reginaldus had been by his side from the very beginning—he had been his friend at Hogwarts and had remained loyal ever since. His death was an immense loss to the Order of the Dark Lord.
Bellatrix found herself incapable of handling such situations. Lestrange Manor was horribly silent. Rabastan had locked himself in his room after the funeral without saying a word, and Rodolphus had retreated to the drawing room. He kept pouring himself glass after glass of his father's finest quality firewhisky. In less than a year, Rodolphus had lost both his mother and father. He was now an orphan and head of the Lestrange family.
"For Merlin's sake, say something, I have no idea what to do," Bellatrix admitted with a sigh.
Rodolphus gave a bitter laugh. He was straddling a chair, his head resting on the back of it, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass.
"You're not very good at comforting people," he muttered.
"No… but I do know some things, and I know you'll never move on if you keep wallowing like this."
With alcohol-clouded eyes, he shot her a sideways glance.
"Shut your mouth, Bella…"
"Charming," she replied, getting up from the leather sofa where she had been sitting.
She walked over to Rodolphus and poured herself a glass of whisky.
"So, what can I do for you, my dear husband?" she whispered in a tone almost mocking. "Tell me what's expected of a wife in such circumstances."
Rodolphus closed his eyes without answering. Bellatrix watched him for a moment before downing her drink in one swift gulp. Then, she suddenly burst into laughter.
"I have no idea what a normal wife would do…" she whispered with amusement, "but I do know exactly what my husband likes his wife to do."
For a few seconds, Rodolphus heard nothing and thought she had left, but when he opened his eyes, she was standing naked in front of him. She seated herself back on the leather sofa and threw him a mischievous smile.
"Come now… Lord Lestrange, don't just stand there. Your lady is waiting."
A little unsteady, Rodolphus got up from his chair and sought the only comfort his wife could offer him.
XxXxXxX
A month passed.
The atmosphere at Lestrange Manor was sombre and heavy, and Bellatrix had begun to feel the unsettling pangs of boredom. It was a sensation she despised. Boredom always brought with it a flood of unpleasant thoughts. But today would be different. She had her first Occlumency lesson. The Dark Lord had arranged to meet her in the vast potions room she had visited before, when he had brewed her first sleeping draught.
Arriving early, she waited for her master by browsing through the numerous shelves of potions in the room. She recognised a few—those she had studied at Hogwarts, and some she had discovered in the grimoire the Dark Lord had lent her last year, Dark Magic and its Curses, Vol. III. Normally, she wasn't particularly interested in potions, but ever since experiencing the effects of the sleeping potion, she had found a newfound curiosity for the power of this branch of magic. She noticed a few locked wooden chests on the shelves, marked with inscriptions like "7W" and "LV." Bellatrix wondered what the codes meant, though she guessed LV stood for Lord Voldemort. She was reaching for a large chest at the back of one of the aisles labelled "LTLV" when she heard the creak of the door. She immediately pulled her hand back and stepped away from the shelves.
In the centre of the room, Lord Voldemort was watching her with a perplexed expression.
"Were you looking for something?" he asked.
"No, Master. I was merely trying to recognise some of the potions."
"Did you recognise any?"
"A few…" she replied, pointing at the sleeping potion.
"You may take it," he offered.
"I don't need it anymore," Bellatrix admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.
Lord Voldemort smiled.
"Very well."
She couldn't help but blush slightly. Unable to meet her master's piercing gaze, she quickly spoke to dispel her unease.
"What is Occlumency, Master?"
"Occlumency is the only way to resist the invasion of one's mind. It will be indispensable if you are ever interrogated by a Legilimens. Fortunately, I only know of two Legilimens truly worthy of the name: Albus Dumbledore and myself."
Bellatrix thought that the secret hidden in the Lestrange vault at Gringotts must be of great importance if the Dark Lord was so intent on protecting her mind.
"Will I one day be able to become a Legilimens myself?" she asked playfully.
"Perhaps…" Voldemort replied with a slight smile, "but Occlumency is the first step."
"How shall we proceed?"
Lord Voldemort slowly drew his wand from his robes and pointed it at Bellatrix.
"Like this… Legilimens!"
A whirlwind of emotions and disjointed memories engulfed the young woman. She saw herself at four years old, standing in her parents' bedroom, peering over the cradle at the rosy face of a newborn with a violent surge of jealousy. To her right, little Andromeda's face was lit with joyful curiosity. Snap. She's sitting on a stool, a hat on her head whispering: Tenacious, determined, brave, and ambitious… SLYTHERIN! Snap. Rodolphus is walking beside her, a mocking smile on his lips, and as he glances at her, he casually shoves the Gryffindor in front of him down the stairs. Bellatrix screams with laughter. Snap. It's summer. Grimmauld Place. A wizard dressed in black stares at her through the large windows with green curtains. Snap. The same wizard is on top of her, moaning in her ear...
At that moment, Bellatrix fought with all her might. She didn't want the Dark Lord to see all of this. She tried to block the forceful intrusion by focusing on other thoughts, but Lord Voldemort became more insistent. In Bellatrix's mind, a thousand cherished details slipped away from her, like water seeping through her clenched fists: the breath of her master on her, the pain in her intimacy mixed with the strange pleasure of feeling him inside her, the pressure of his hands, the relentless movement of his body against hers, her heart bursting with joy… Stop, she begged, before wrenching herself away with all her strength.
Lord Voldemort lowered his wand. Bellatrix realised she had fallen to the ground, at her master's feet. She didn't dare look up at him, consumed by shame.
"Get up," he ordered in a calm voice.
Bellatrix recognised the usual icy tone in his voice, but there was no anger. She hastened to obey and dared a glance in his direction. He was staring at her, unsmiling, but with a sort of restrained satisfaction. Bellatrix felt an immediate sense of relief.
"There is still much to be done… You let me into your mind as if you'd invited me in," he remarked.
"I tried to push you out, Master," she insisted, her heart still racing.
"You mustn't try to push me out, you won't succeed," he explained. "The more you resist a particular thought, the easier it becomes for me to know where to apply pressure. Resistance is a suitable technique for lesser Legilimens, but against me, it's entirely ineffective."
"What should I do, then?"
"Try to guide me towards thoughts of your choosing, rather than leading me towards those you absolutely don't want me to see."
Bellatrix lowered her head, her cheeks flushed.
"Though I find it curious that you would wish to keep secret a memory that we both share. Surely you have something to hide from me, Bellatrix?"
She heard the amusement in his voice, and it made her smile.
"No, Master," she whispered.
"We shall see… Legilimens!"
XxXxXxX
After their first lesson, Lord Voldemort had concluded that Bellatrix would need several more sessions to fully master Occlumency. It wasn't that she had been completely inept, but her impulsiveness and fiery nature, though useful in other circumstances, hindered her progress with this particular magical skill. To be a good Occlumens, and by extension, a good Legilimens, one had to block all emotions and have complete control over their mind. Her master had, however, assured her that she had grasped the direction she needed to take, which reassured her. Everything she had learned from the Dark Lord up to that point, including the Unforgivable Curses, hadn't seemed excessively complex, even though mastering them far exceeded the academic standards at Hogwarts. Occlumency, however, was a nebulous field that would require much more work on her part.
It was late when she returned to Lestrange Manor that evening. Upon entering her bedroom, she noticed her husband lying face down in their bed, fast asleep. She stared at him for a long while, unsure of what to do. Deep down, she recognised that something had been strange about her sexuality lately. Most of the time, she tried not to dwell on it, as thinking about her sex life inevitably brought back the horrid memories of the previous autumn.
As strange as it seemed, Bellatrix's sudden surge of lust and irresistible desire had vanished without warning. Three days later, she woke in Rodolphus's bed, feeling cold and empty, the passion completely gone. The vivid memory of their ecstatic couplings still left her longing for the wild freedom she'd indulged in for three consecutive nights at the start of summer. The first time she had to turn Rodolphus down again, he was rather upset:
"This isn't normal, Bellatrix," he'd sighed in frustration, "One day you're all over me, and the next, you're more frigid than McGonagall!"
"What do you want me to say, Rodolphus? I just don't want you anymore, that's all."
Bellatrix had brushed aside her husband's incredulous expression with a casual wave. She knew it wasn't normal. Obviously. She couldn't deny that she was trembling with fear at the thought that she might be losing her mind entirely. On the other hand, Bellatrix no longer saw sex as a threat. The mere knowledge that she had once been capable of such untamed sensuality reconciled her with the act itself. It had become easier. Her desire was no longer as intense or overpowering, but it returned to her in soft, lazy waves, like a hollow feeling in her stomach that she would feed, whether out of curiosity or interest. Bellatrix had even found she was still quite capable of pleasuring herself. Maybe she simply didn't want to sleep with Rodolphus anymore, just as she had admitted. But deep down, there was a persistent doubt. Surely it couldn't be that simple, but she wasn't willing to torment herself over it any further. The important thing was that, one way or another, she felt a thousand times better than she had six months ago.
She noticed a letter, still sealed, on her bedside table and immediately recognised her parents' handwriting. She sighed. She didn't particularly enjoy receiving letters from her parents—they were usually unpleasant to read. Their last letter had been pages upon pages of complaints about Sirius's sorting at Hogwarts. Her young, foolish cousin had been sorted into Gryffindor! It had been decades since anyone in the Black family had been placed in that house, and it had to be their family's heir! What a scandal. Bellatrix was equally appalled. She hadn't paid enough attention to her cousin lately, but he had always shown an inappropriate curiosity. A bit like Andromeda... Bellatrix shook off the thought and was about to settle in to read her parents' letter.
She didn't get the chance. A sharp pain shot through her stomach just as she leaned over to grab it. She sat on the bed, trying to suppress her cries of pain and soothe the spasms in her abdomen. Beside her, Rodolphus continued to snore. The pain intensified. Bellatrix began to tremble as beads of sweat formed on her forehead and lower back. She tried to stand up to reach the bathroom, but she lacked the strength—her entire body was electrified with pain whenever she attempted to move. Her nightdress was slowly becoming stained with blood between her legs. Bellatrix was now terrified. Slipping a hand beneath her nightgown, she realised she was bleeding heavily. This couldn't be her period... It had never hurt like this before.
"Rodolphus!" she called out, panicked.
In an instant, the Death Eater was awake. He didn't immediately understand what was happening. Bellatrix was facing away from him, nearly motionless except for her trembling. Realising something was seriously wrong, he got out of bed and walked around to her side. What he saw chilled him to the bone. The hem of Bellatrix's nightdress was soaked in blood, and she was staring at her hands, shaking, covered in crimson.
"Merlin's beard, Bella..."
"Get a Healer!" she demanded.
"Who?"
It had become too dangerous for Rodolphus to go to a public place like St Mungo's. Though there was no proof, he was suspected by the Aurors of being a Death Eater. It wasn't in their best interest to be examined by the hospital's Healers at the moment.
"Alecto studied medi—"
"NO! Anyone but her!" Bellatrix spat, doubled over in pain.
"Bella..."
His plea was drowned out by Bellatrix's screams. He Disapparated without another word. When he reappeared a few minutes later, it was with the red-haired Death Eater whom Bellatrix despised. The pain swallowed the vehement protests she wanted to shout.
Despite Bellatrix's distrust, Alecto only needed a glance to assess the situation.
"She needs to be laid down on the bed."
Rodolphus immediately complied, kneeling by his wife's side.
"Revelio," Alecto muttered.
She moved closer and cast a calming spell. The spasms stopped, though Bellatrix still felt her body burning. Alecto pulled a vial from the leather bag she had brought and knelt at the foot of the bed. Rodolphus watched with mounting anxiety as different expressions passed over the red-haired woman's face. He observed as she collected a few drops of blood and poured them into a clear vial. The potion turned blue within seconds. Alecto's lips curled into a mocking smirk.
"She hasn't lost the baby."
"What?" Rodolphus breathed in disbelief.
Bellatrix heard the words Alecto had just uttered but couldn't process them. She studied the round-faced Death Eater for any sign of mockery or deceit, but she seemed completely serious.
"That's impossible..." Bellatrix said haughtily. "I can't get pregnant."
"There is most certainly a baby in there," Alecto countered, "This potion is foolproof."
"I don't have ovaries anymore..." Bellatrix hissed through clenched teeth, "How can there be a baby if I don't have ovaries, you idiot? There's obviously something wrong with your potion!"
"I'm not a Healer, but I know this potion is infallible," Alecto retorted smugly.
"Rodolphus, go get me a real Healer immediately, and get this incompetent fool out of my room!"
"Bella..." Rodolphus began, but his words were cut short by his wife's venomous glare.
"Fine, fine... Stay here, don't move, I'll be back as soon as I can."
He cast an apologetic glance at Alecto before the two of them Disapparated, leaving Bellatrix alone in her room. The calming spell had eased the pain slightly. But panic gripped her as the red-haired woman's words echoed in her mind. This couldn't be true. She couldn't be pregnant. She had destroyed her ovaries for good. The Healers at St Mungo's had said it was irreversible. This had to be a mistake. Please, by Merlin, let it be wrong! she begged, tears in her eyes.
She waited for what felt like an eternity, lying completely still in the middle of her blood-soaked bed. The pain had slowly subsided, but the terror hadn't. The telltale sound of Apparition echoed several times in the room. Three men now stood before her bed, each wearing a different expression. On the left, Rodolphus was visibly nervous—his face shifting between worry and hope. To the right stood a man she had met a year earlier, the French Healer Edgar Mirepoix, looking pale as a ghost. In the centre, the tallest of the three men stared at her with a dark, menacing expression.
"Master..."