Bellatrix sneered as she stared at the party in front of her. Stupid, little purebloods, her mind scoffed. They were here consuming terribly bland food and consuming alcohol when there was so much more the world had to offer. So much power, ready for the taking. Yet here they were, partying. Well, not Bellatrix. Bellatrix would never host one of these inspid events for as long as she lived. She'd be the one grabbing the power by the balls and never letting go, not concerning herself with gossip and petticoats.

She looked down at the wine glass in her hands and glared at it. Blood red and tasting like absolute shit. Bellatrix would rather drink the blood of her dying enemies than drink something that attempted to take away her focus.

As it had often throughout the night, her gaze drifted over to the far wall where Narcissa stood, smiling shyly at Lucius Malfoy. Bella rolled her eyes. Her sister was such a ninny over that boy but in an odd sort of way, Bella found it cute. She always thought young love was rather pointless and yet Lucius had made Narcissa happier than Bella had ever seen. Don't get her wrong—that didn't mean she liked the boy—but it was better than some of the other options her mother had cooked up.

Marrying Narcissa off to that... that... predator. What a fucking joke. Just thinking bout it now had Bella wanting to take her knife and drive it into her father's associate over and over and over. Perhaps then she'd have something more interesting to fill her wine glass.

There he was, across the room. Septimus Mulciber. At least fifty years old with enough power, respect, and wealth to show for it. He came from a prominent family but not one of the Sacred 28. His massive riches made up for any lack of status he had. Yes, he was someone to watch out for, that was for sure.

He was also a fucking pedophile.

Bella hadn't known this before, of course. But tonight, after Narcissa's little reveal, she watched the way he reacted when Cissy walked in wearing the dress their mother picked out for her. She watched the way his gaze darkened as it traveled up Cissa's developing legs. She watched the way he stared at her breasts while her parents were introducing Narcissa to him. She watched the way he kept stealing glances at the young girl as if it were appropriate to think about fucking a thirteen year old.

Bella hadn't realized she was gripping her glass so tightly until it broke in her hands, droplets staining her fingers as the cuts bloomed. The shards fell to the flour with a sound that was far too light for the darkness going through Bella's head. She gestured toward a house elf. "Clean it up," she muttered before striding over to where Andromeda was watching their younger sister like a hawk.

If Bella hadn't just cut the shit out of her hands, she might have rolled her eyes. Andromeda was obsessed with keeping their littlest sister safe and while Bella was too, she also didn't smother the poor girl like her sister did. After all, what good would that do? It would only drive Cissy away. No, Bella planned to keep her youngest sister close to her for a long, long time. Hell hath mercy on anyone who tried to hurt Narcissa Black.

"Dromeda," Bella called out in a low voice. Her middle sister's head snapped up to look at her. Dromeda was pretty enough. Tonight was one of those nights where she looked particularly good. Her dishwater blonde hair was pulled up into a bun and her deep red lip made her look more like an adult than the fifteen year old girl she was. The dark teal dress she wore was much more modest than anyone else's in the room yet it looked beautiful on Andromeda. When they were younger, Bellatrix used to be jealous of the perfectly positioned beauty mark on Andromeda's face. Now, Bellatrix knew that she had beauty of her own to use—though she'd probably always think her younger sisters were the prettiest girl in the world.

"Yes, Bella?" Andromeda replied, still not taking her eyes off Cissy, who giggled as Lucius said something into her ear. This time, Bella really did roll her eyes. Though she didn't mind Lucius—and found she might respect him once he did a little more maturing—she couldn't imagine anything he had to say was that amusing.

"Let me borrow your gloves."

Dromeda's eyes flashed to hers. "What? No. Those are my favorite gloves."

The cuts on Bella's hands were starting to sting. Bella cursed their mother for not letting any of them bring wands to the ball. It's not proper, she'd said while taking all three of them. Bella didn't think bleeding out on the dance floor was proper either.

"I cut my hands. Please," Bella added when she saw Andromeda's stern face. Though her sister was younger, the look in her deep blue eyes sometimes made Bella feel as if she were being scolded by her mother. Bella might have been the oldest in years but Andromeda was the oldest in spirit. And Merlin, did she use it...

"Fine. But get your cuts cleaned up. I'll kill you if you stain them," Andromeda muttered. Bella scoffed. Andromeda would never kill anyone. Well, unless they threatened to kill Cissy. She'd seen the look in Dromeda's eyes in the bedroom when their baby sister first said that their mother wanted Cissy to have children as a thirteen year old. She'd recognized the darkness find within those blues eyes. Perhaps Andromeda could murder someone some day...

"What in Merlin's name..." Dromeda whispered, suddenly feeling around her dress pockets. "Where are my gloves? I just had them." Her eyes snapped up. "Cissy."

Bella looked over at their youngest sister with a bemused smile, expecting to see their favorite gloves on Cissy's pale arms but to their surprise, she accepted Lucius's offer of a dance with gloveless fingers. Bellatrix was sure that if Narcissa had taken them, she'd be wearing them, flaunting how well they looked with her cute little black dress. But if Narcissa didn't have them, who did?

Andromeda sighed. "I had them in my pocket. They must have fallen out. They could be anywhere now."

"I'm sure once the ballroom clears out, a house elf will find them," Bellatrix said, attempting to be comforting. Feelings weren't exactly her strong suit. It was much easier for her to walk into a room full of powerful wizards with confidence in her veins and her knife by her side than to talk about mushy feelings with anyone, including her sisters.

"Yeah," Dromeda grumbled, now seemingly in a sour mood. "I swear if they get ruined, I will scream. Those are my favorite!"

Bella smirked. "You know Father will buy you a new pair."

"He might have bought you a new pair. You're his favorite. And if Cissy was missing anything, Mother would get her it. Those were the nicest thing I've received in a year!" Bellatrix didn't attempt to say anything because Andromeda was right. As the middle child, she was often overlooked by her parents, though Bella would be lying if she thought that was a bad thing. Their parents were... trying. It was almost better to not get their attention because at least it meant they didn't want anything from her.

"Oh, please. I think if the look on Lucius Malfoy's face is any indicator, he'd buy them for Narcissa way before Mother," Bella said, hoping that her jokes and the topic of their favorite sister would be enough to take Dromeda's mind off her missing gloves.

Both of their gazes followed as Lucius spun Narcissa around the room. The pretty girl didn't stop smiling and, to be honest, neither did he. With his white-blond hair—the same shade as their sister's—pulled back into a short ponytail and a dapper smile on his dimpled face, he looked nothing short of smitten. His suit was expensive and his grooming impeccable. He was perhaps the only boy Bellatrix could see actually providing enough for their little, high maintenance sister. She was sure that Cissy wouldn't be easy for any man to deal with but if any could, it would be Malfoy. They always got what they want and were perhaps the richest family in the Wizarding World. His interest in their sister was the only thing saving the girl from a life of pumping out babies to a slimeball. If all went well tonight—the night of their sister's first ball, her introduction to society—then Narcissa would be saved from a terrible fate. Unless something happened to Septimus Mulciber of course...

A pair of dark eyes across the room caught Bella's attention. Her breath hitched as she saw two fingers beckon her from a corner. "I... I need some fresh air," she said to her sister, who frowned but continued to watch the young couple.

"Alright. But stay nearby in case we need you."

Bella rolled her eyes. "What would you need me for?"

Dromeda frowned, a little crease coming between her eyebrows. It always appeared when she became lost in her thoughts. "I don't know. I just have a bad feeling about tonight. Stay close."

Bella pursed her lips but didn't say anything. Dromeda would sometimes have these feelings and they were often right. The idea of this bad feeling relating to Narcissa had her clutching her knife a little tighter. She might not have a wand but blades could kill too.

"Alright. I'll be close."

Bella slinked across the room, taking great care not to be noticed by her parents. She didn't want them to see what their eldest daughter was getting up to. They'd be appalled if they knew. She paused briefly at a mirror to make sure she looked okay. Dark eyes that always had a hint of mischief. Smooth black curls to match. A dress that was low-cut, showing off the assets that were undoubtedly the best part of her beauty. A face that brought men to their knees. A mouth that brought her to her knees. Oh, yes, she was ready. She pulled down her top a little more before going over to the corner where he stood.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," his smooth voice crooned. It traveled down Bellatrix's spine and settled at her core. His mouth tipped upward as he watched the effects of his power turn her completely wet. "What a pleasure it is to see you here."

"The pleasure is all mine, My Lord," she breathed in a sultry voice that she knew drove most men crazy, reaching out to kiss the hands that had made her scream over the years. Her heart didn't care that he was twenty-three years her senior. She would always worship him. His darkness, his power, his charm. All of it called to a part of her that she hadn't known existed until he stared at her, calling out the monster that resided deep within her body.

You are a nightmare, Bellatrix Lestrange, he once told her as he pushed her against the wall. Never let them make you anything less.

They'd been doing this—slinking off into darkness, finding pleasure in each other's bodies—since she was thirteen. The idea of Narcissa doing something like this at that age made Bellatrix want to kill but Bella was different. Older, wiser, and undoubtedly more prepared for a life like this. Plus, the Dark Lord was nothing like Septimus Mulciber. He was far, far greater.

AN: I want to make one thing EXTRA clear: I do not support the relationship between Bella and Voldemort. She is a victim and my entire reasoning behind writing this side of their story is to show that. He used his power to groom her and there's no way around it. What is happening between them is NOT okay and is written to show the dark side of pureblood society and how many crimes Voldemort committed beyond the murders we know. Power doesn't just take lives. It destroys them. I want that to be extra clear, even if it breaks you from the story a little. You'll see how horrible this relationship is for her throughout the story, but I didn't want anyone continuing thinking that I support this in any way. Carry on, my loves.

One of these days, she hoped that she could make her affections for him public. Of course, Bella never expected him to return her affections. He'd made it clear that these trysts were a made of sensless, human needs that simply needed filled by someone. But that didn't stop Bella from devoting herself to him. She didn't care if he returned her feelings. All she cared about was serving him.

"Your mind is distracted," he sensed, his power reaching out to feel around in her thoughts. He was the most powerful Legilimens she'd ever met. It was just another thing that impressed her completely.

"It's my sister, my lord. Narcissa. They think of betrothing her to a..." Her mind struggled for the word but, of course, she didn't need to voice it when his power had already curled around her thoughts.

"A grotesque man, yes," he murmured. His voice made Bella ache for him. I need you inside me, My Lord, she thought, hoping he heard her. Let me serve your needs. His jaw clenched as he looked at the way her breasts—which had finally finished growing this summer—were pushing out of her corsetted top. "The girl will be fine."

Bella felt her hope lift. "She will?"

"You dare to question me," he seethed, grabbing onto her neck harshly. Though Bella felt pain—though her lungs burned as she struggled to breath—she couldn't stop the waves of heat that fell to her body. "She will do well beside the young Malfoy. The Mulciber man is weak. One day, he will be disposed of."

"Let me do it, My Lord," she gasped. "Let me serve you in this way."

"No!" he hissed. For a moment, his voice reminded her of a snake's. "The man's death belongs to another. Set your knife on the table and follow me."

Bella's mind flooded with ecstasy as placed her only weapon down and followed the Dark Lord to an empty corridor. Her mind raced as she thought about all the ways she might serve her lord tonight. She was the only one with the honor of this task—of pleasuring the Dark Lord. He'd seen potential in her when she was only Narcissa's age. He chose her for this. She would never let him down.

"Now," he growled, shoving her to the floor so hard Bella felt her knee pop. "On your knees."

. . .

It was less than an hour before Bellatrix returned to the party. She'd spent time serving the Dark Lord before going up to to her room, fixing her makeup. If her parents sensed that she'd spent the better part of thirty minutes with their precious Dark Lord buried between her, they'd be furious. They worshipped the Dark Lord, but they cared about etiquette more than anything. Etiquette be damned, she thought as she swiped on another layer of black lipstick. Power cares little for propriety. That's why I'll be the only one worthy of having it.

She'd meandered around the grand estate before walking down to the corridor where she'd left her knife. But when she reached the table she'd placed it on... it was gone.

"What the fuck?" Bella muttered, searching everywhere for her precious weapon. "Where's my bloody knife?"

"Bella? Bella, is that you?" a panicked voice sounded from not far away. Bellatrix looked up to see her sister peering down the corridor, tears fresh in her eyes. Bella felt her hackles rise at the sight of Andromeda—usually so calm and collected—on the verge of crying. Bella's hand moved to where she normally kept her knife. She cursed when she remembered it was fucking missing.

"What the fuck has happened?" she growled, looking her sister up and down to make sure that she hadn't been hurt. On the outside, Andromeda seemed fine. No blood, no budding bruises. And internally, Dromeda wasn't one to usually be affected so much, unless of course Cissy was—

Bella felt her blood run cold. "Dromeda, where's Cissy?"

"She's gone," Andromeda whispered, grabbing onto Bella's fists with trembling hands. "I can't find her."

Ahhh, a cliffhanger this early? You know it's gonna get good then. Any theories budding already?

Also, just to make sure we're extra clear: the Bella/Voldy relationship is one that happens in this book but that doesn't mean it's one we should ever support. Just making that known a TON.