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Power, Wealth and Social Status	By : thexdarkxlady Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 3308 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or associated characters and I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Bellatrix appeared at the base of the garden. She looked up at the house in front of her, a smile on her lips, but her stomach was churning too. On her way towards the house, she looked up at the window of the master bedroom. Her smile widened, in a couple of minutes she would be back in that room.

When she got there, to her surprise, all of her clothes were sitting neatly in Voldemort's wardrobe. Her shoes were in boxes on the floor, underneath the hanging garments. With a pleased smirk, Bellatrix took out her favourite robes. There was no way in hell she was going to walk into that meeting in her school uniform. She needed to feel sexy and attractive, not young and foolish. The robes she had chosen were fairly low cut, showing a good proportion of her cleavage, with an under-bust corset, pushing her breasts up even higher. The rest of the robes fell to the ground in a silky line, trailing out a little behind. She tidied her hair, and put some high heels on, finally feeling like herself again.

With a final glance into the mirror, Bellatrix swept from the room, and headed down to the meeting room. Outside the door, she paused. The Dark Lord was speaking, she couldn't hear exactly what, but it was definitely him. Finally, this moment was upon her. She couldn't believe it. Taking in a deep breath to compose herself, she pushed the double doors open, adrenaline coursing through her veins now. Straight ahead of her, the Dark Lord was sat on his throne, the Death Eaters gathered around him in a wide semi circle.

Their eyes met. Bellatrix took a step into the room, letting the doors close behind her, before dropping into a curtsy, and lowering her eyes. When she looked back up, Voldemort was standing. The majority of the Death Eaters were staring at her now, Voldemort one of them. He raised his hand, and beckoned her to him. Smiling now, Bellatrix stepped forwards as Voldemort walked down the two steps of the dais that his Throne was sitting on. They met in the middle of the circle. Voldemort's eyes narrowed. “You've changed,” he said softly.

Bellatrix was staring into his eyes. “You haven't,” she murmured. The only difference was a slight tan, which suited him. She had forgotten how gorgeous he was.

“Leave us,” Voldemort commanded coolly, looking up and around him. The Death Eaters made for the door. As soon as the door was shut, Bellatrix put her arms tightly around Voldemort's neck, her lips drawing closer to his own. They kissed passionately, in a way they never had before, fueled by real need now. When they pulled apart, Voldemort was smiling.

“You are even more beautiful now then before,” he murmured. “And your black hair is stunning.”

“I knew you'd like it,” Bellatrix replied, her arms still tightly around him.

“How was your last exam?” Voldemort asked, looking down at her with a smile.

“Good, I think I should have got at least an O.” She smirked. “Never mind school, you must have lots to tell me.”

“Yes, but it isn't going to make much sense yet. My travels were mainly for my own gain, not so much for the Death Eaters.” He paused, surveying her. “We'll have an enjoyable night tonight, my beloved, and tomorrow afternoon we shall begin your training.”

Bellatrix looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “Do I not get even one day off?” she asked him, smirking slightly.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow sarcastically. “You've had today off, haven't you?” he responded, a flicker of amusement crossing his features.

“Well... I was thinking...” Bellatrix leaned closer to him, her fingers toying lightly with the front of his robes, smiling suggestively. “Since I'm now officially yours...” Voldemort raised both eyebrows this time.

“Yes...”

“Maybe...” She reached up, her fingers tracing over his lips, smiling with even more suggestion now. “We should...”

“Maybe we should go out for dinner,” Voldemort interrupted, pulling away from her. “We have much to discuss.”

“Alright,” Bellatrix replied, with cool indifference, turning around and preparing to walk to the bedroom. She felt a cool hand on her, turning her around. She smiled at him.

Roughly, Voldemort pulled her into his arms and pulled her hair downwards, forcing her head backwards. Bellatrix felt her stomach flipping, she loved it rough like this, she'd been almost getting concerned he wasn't going to be rough enough with her. His lips slammed into hers, his tongue penetrating her lips. Bellatrix responded with a loud moan, followed on by kissing him back, trying to echo his roughness but in reality knowing she was going to be forced to submit. His arm moved around, supporting her back as the kiss deepened, and she was pushed further back. He hadn't kissed her like that before, and she seriously thought he was going to make love to her that night. Then, quite suddenly, their lips still attached, lost in passion, his hand closed tightly around her left forearm, squeezing hard. Bellatrix cried out as she felt a harsh burn deep through her arm, and was about to pull away but his other hand moved back to her head, pushing her face towards him. Only when the pain began to subside did he let her go.

“Let me explain a few things to you,” he said softly, his mouth close to her ear, his hand still around her arm, before she could say a word. “You are not at school anymore, Bellatrix. You are, from now, mine. My property. You do as I tell you, or you will be punished. You will treat me with respect, as your Lord, as your Master, do you understand?”

He had moved his mouth back from her ear, and had finally let go of her arm, and was staring into her eyes. “I understand, Master,” she responded, breathless from the kiss still, and now breathless from his words. Once again, his power thrilled her. She could see why people were terrified of him. Slowly, she looked down at her arm, smiling in delight as she saw his brand, the Dark Mark, etched to her skin.

“What do you think?” he asked her, his fingers tracing gently along her new mark. It tingled pleasantly.

Awestruck, she looked back into his eyes. “Am I really a Death Eater now?” she asked, and for the first time her voice sounded weak. Slowly, Voldemort kissed the palm of her hand.

“Yes,” he said simply, his fingers back on her mark. “You will find that I can cause you a great deal of pain through this mark...” He paused, and Bellatrix found herself gripping her arm tightly as the pain flared up to an unbearable level. “Or...” The pain lessened, and Bellatrix found that her entire body was tingling in pleasure. Panting slowly, she looked back up at him, her surprised expression changing to that of shock. “You're not a school girl anymore,” Voldemort said softly, cupping her chin gently. “You are a Death Eater, the most loyal and highest of them all. Never forget that... Even when it seems otherwise.” Bellatrix frowned, slightly confused. Voldemort chuckled. “You'll learn that lesson soon enough. And I need you to learn it quickly. Just promise me you will remember your rank, your title, and how much I adore you.”

After one more kiss, Voldemort released her from his grip. “I hope, my dear, that you were not expecting this to be easy?”

“Never, my Lord,” Bellatrix replied softly, her eyes on his.

“Remember I always want what is best for you.”

Bellatrix nodded, smiling, before leaning forward and kissing him gently on the lips. “I think I now love you three times more than before.”

Voldemort kissed her back, gently, relieved in some ways that he had not frightened her away. “Good girl,” he replied, smoothing down her hair. “Come... To the bedroom to change.”

He slid an arm around her waist, and Bellatrix glanced up at him. Sensing her gaze, Voldemort looked back down to her. She smiled, and rested her head on his shoulder, knowing that the gesture would remind him of her love and affection and unwavering loyalty, and hopefully remind him of how much Bellatrix wanted her new Master.

x------------------------------------x

“What are we doing in training tomorrow?” was Bellatrix's first question, as the pair sat down at the table the Dark Lord had taken the time out to reserve. He had taken Bellatrix to the swankiest restaurant in London, only the cream of the upper class came here. Bellatrix wasn't surprised to see most of the diners staring at Voldemort in shock, and then fear, turning quickly into respect, as he walked in. Some of the women stared jealously at Bellatrix, who was feeling particularly confident in a simple black evening gown, with her highest, silliest pair of shoes and brightest, shiny red lipstick. Voldemort had nodded slightly to a few people along the way, and Bellatrix had smirked gleefully across the room as she spotted Marcalie Rookwood, the girl who had been after Lucius for a while, dining with a male member of the Nott family.

“Do you really wish to speak of this now?” Voldemort asked incredulously, one eyebrow raised, now completely unaware of the people staring at them. Bellatrix was certainly aware of how Rookwood was staring at her.

“Of course,” Bellatrix responded, her gaze fixed firmly to Voldemort's.

The Dark Lord sighed, but he was smiling. The wine for them was brought over, and left of the table by the slightly nervous looking woman serving them. “I would break out the champagne, but I really would like you to try this wine.” He examined the bottle, before picking up the crystal and pouring out two glasses. He set the bottle back in the middle of the table, between the two flaming candlesticks, and passed Bellatrix one of the glasses. “To your graduation,” he said, tilting his head slightly, and gazing at her, lust showing quite clearly in his eyes.

“To my graduation,” Bellatrix replied softly, leaning towards him and tapping her glass against his. When she took a sip, the most delicious taste tampered with her senses. Her eyes snapped back to Voldemort's, who was surveying her with an expression of amusement.

“Nice?”

“You could say that.” She hadn't eaten much that day, and already she could feel the alcohol fizzling through her bloodstream. The wine was truly delicious, expensive too, she was positive. And strong. Too strong, perhaps. “I think I will drink some more when I've eaten something.”

Voldemort glanced at her, and for a moment his expression was cold. “You have not eaten today?”

Bellatrix looked back to him, her tone defiant. “I've been excited,” she said defensively, but that was an understatement by far.

“Three meals a day from now on,” he said, sternly.

Bellatrix nodded coolly. “It's unlike me to skip meals. You know that.”

Voldemort sighed lightly. “I do know that.” He glanced around him, most of the staring had stopped now, with the exception of Rookwood. “Do you know that girl?” he asked, noticing. Bellatrix glanced across to Rookwood again.
“What, Rookwood's sister?” She smirked, before looking back to Voldemort. “Yeh. She doesn't like me. She was after Lucius for a while. Her younger sister is just as annoying, she's in Narcissa's year. Also in love with Lucius. They're all like groupies.” She paused, briefly. “Is Lucius really that hot?”

Voldemort laughed, and tilted his foot slightly under the table so it was resting comfortingly next to Bellatrix's. “Surely you're a better one to answer that question?”

“But he isn't attractive! He's like a woman.” Bellatrix glanced over to Voldemort. Tonight he was more relaxed in his attire than usual, and he was showing off his muscular arms and a small portion of his chest with tight, v neck robes, his cloak already taken by the waitress. Bellatrix knew only too well what delights lay underneath those robes. “Not like you, darling. You're a real man.”

“Thank you, Bella,” he replied mildly, his gaze piercing and heated once more. “To answer your earlier question, regarding your training.” He paused, and Bellatrix smiled excitedly.

“Yes?”

“It will be a short exercise, in getting to know each other.”

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. “It sounds like se-”

“It does not,” Voldemort cut in hastily so that she couldn't finish her sentence. “Involve anything relating to our private relationship, so you can get that out of your head.” He paused, smiling slightly at her. Bellatrix didn't look at all embarrassed. ”It will probably involve a duel.”

“I will beat you one day,” Bellatrix claimed, enthusiastically.

“I do not doubt it for one second,” Voldemort responded levelly. “Just not tomorrow. Though,” he smirked. “You will do your best.”

“I always do,” Bellatrix replied lightly.

“Do not expect to get everything perfect right away,” Voldemort warned, as their starters arrived.

“I won't, my Lord,” Bellatrix said smoothly, for the benefit of the waitress next to them, who tried her hardest not to look at Voldemort, now his identity had been confirmed by Bellatrix's title.

“Couldn't resist, could you?” Voldemort said softly once they were alone again.

“Nope.” Bellatrix grinned impishly, giggling flirtatiously. Voldemort simply rolled his eyes and began on his starter, and Bellatrix followed suit, though she was still trying to swallow down the laughter that was forming.

x----------------------------x

Things suddenly became a little bit awkward at bedtime. Both had only drank a glass and a half of wine each, and with a meal that wasn't much. Bellatrix was completely sober, and Voldemort was unaffected also. They were stood, at either side of the bed, looking at each other, as if contemplating.

“Not tonight,” Voldemort finally decided. There was a tone in his voice that told Bellatrix not to argue, there was a definite note of finality in his voice. He promptly began to remove his robes to get into bed.

“I'm wearing nice underwear though,” Bellatrix said, but it was more of a grumble than an argument.

“You can always wear it again.” Voldemort looked across to her sharply. “And anyway, underwear is for looking at.” His eyes glinted.

Bellatrix smirked, and slowly, unhooked her arms through the straps and let her dress pool to the ground. She stepped forwards, smiling towards him. “I could just-”

“No, you couldn't,” Voldemort said firmly, purposefully not looking at her, sliding into bed. “Hurry up.”

Bellatrix sighed and turned on her heel, into the bathroom to change. Sexy underwear was great, but also remarkably uncomfortable. She pulled her favourite nightdress over her head, and removed her shoes, then headed back towards the bedroom. “Why are we waiting?”

“You like romance?” Voldemort asked her, putting his arm around her from behind, their bodies fitting perfectly together.

“You know I do.”

“Then think of how romantic our wedding night would be if we waited just a few more weeks.” Voldemort squeezed her slightly.

“Weeks?” Bellatrix asked sceptically. “That soon?”

“Yes.” Voldemort briefly kissed her shoulder. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Bellatrix replied absently, quite shocked that this amazing event was going to take place in a matter of weeks. She closed her eyes, a smile planted firmly on her lips as she fell asleep.

x--------------------x

Dear Bella,

The wedding is to be in a week today. It's very sudden, but I don't think I can wait, and neither can Lucius. He's been here every moment he physically can.

I am preparing everything, so that I can move out. If you're not too busy, I would love it if you could come and help me. And I need to find a wedding dress! There is so much to do.

Write back when you know.

Cissa.

Bellatrix immediately stood up, she wanted to go to her sister and help. Voldemort was tucked away in his office, and it looked as if her first training session was going to have to wait.

Slipping her feet into her shoes, she headed to where she knew the Dark Lord was with a couple of the higher Death Eaters. She knocked on the door, listening for the stern permission to enter. When it came, she slowly pushed the door open. Voldemort was sat down, Rodolphus and another man she didn't know were also present.

“Bella,” Voldemort said, looking carefully at her.

“Master,” Bellatrix responded softly, after a slight curtsey. “My sister is in need of me, I was wondering-”

“I will unfortunately be busy this afternoon, so we shall begin tomorrow. You may go to your sister, I appreciate that this is a busy time for her,” Voldemort replied softly, his eyes fixed firmly on her. “You will be back for dinner?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Bellatrix said, smiling at him.

“Then I shall see you at seven.” He waved his hand dismissively, and Bellatrix hastily curtseyed again and turned out of the room, slightly shaking at the dismissal. She did know that it would be like this, no hello or goodbye kisses when the others were around. It was in his warning to her last night, she needed to keep the knowledge that she was still his utmost favourite.

Now she was a Death Eater, she could easily apparate and disapparate from the building. It certainly did make things quicker.

She appeared a moment later in the sitting room at the Black residence. There was a cry behind her, and she turned around to see Narcissa, sort of surprised but also very pleased. “Bellatrix!”

“One week?” Bellatrix asked sharply. “He's given you one week?”

“It's doable,” Narcissa replied, smiling. “We're so excited. But I need a dress, I was wondering if I could come and have a look in the attic?”

Bellatrix was about to reply when Druella entered the room. “Did someone apparate?” she asked, and then saw Bellatrix. “Oh, it's you. Have you come to help? Narcissa said you could help her find a dress.”

“I can.” Bellatrix paused. “Mother, I know that you gave me your wedding dress, but I thought that maybe it might be more suitable for Narcissa to have it.”

Narcissa looked pleased, and Druella didn't particularly seem to mind. “If you think so,” she replied. “The first daughter to marry should have it, naturally. I always assumed that it would be you, Bellatrix.”

Bellatrix laughed. “It won't be long now Mother.” She pushed some hair behind her ear. “The Dark Lord said it's now a matter of weeks.”

Druella had noticed the Dark Mark on Bellatrix's arm as the sleeve of her robe had slid down slightly when she was arranging her hair. “He doesn't waste any time, then,” Druella said, and Bellatrix knew she wasn't referring to the wedding.

“Of course not.”

“You be careful. I don't want to loose you.” Druella turned around, and left the room, and Bellatrix was suddenly aware of how unhappy the tattoo on her arm made her Mother.

“What does she mean by that?” Narcissa whispered when she'd gone. Bellatrix turned back to her sister, and slowly began to roll up the sleeve of her robe. Narcissa gasped. “I don't... Need to see any more.”

Bellatrix smiled, and pulled the robe back down again. “The wedding dress is in my room.”

Narcissa nodded. “My room is mostly packed up. I did the smaller things by magic... I don't think I will need much at Malfoy Manor. Just important things, and clothes, Lucius said.” She glanced at Bellatrix nervously. “Do you think it'll be alright, living there?”

“Yes,” Bellatrix replied firmly. “It's no different to what I've done. And,” she continued, “There won't be a hundred Death Eaters in your house all day, stealing your husband from you.”

“You and I want different things. I can't wait to have our first child.” She hummed placidly, and Bellatrix could see how happy she was.

“What will you wear to the party afterwards?” Bellatrix asked, excited herself about being able to choose a new dress. “And... Underwear.”

Narcissa giggled nervously. “I can't imagine going underwear shopping with Mother.”

“I need some too, for my wedding night. The attic certainly doesn't have anything worth mentioning.” Bellatrix was not going to wear Victorian underwear. “I think you should stick with the white theme. White wedding dress, white party dress, something a little bit more revealing perhaps, and white underwear.”

“And you, Bella? What are your colours?”

Bellatrix smiled. “Green. And cream. Though I would like to wear purple to the party afterwards.” She paused, and sat down thoughtfully. “I would like to get married on my 18th birthday. So that we can actually have a decent party, with everyone invited.”

“I am sure the Dark Lord will be in agreement with that, your birthday is five weeks away, which seems to be within the time-scale he was thinking,” Narcissa added.

“I hope so. I shall mention it to him later.” Bellatrix looked over at her sister. “We'd better go to London then, though I don't know when my next day off is going to be. The day of your wedding, I suppose. Am I going to need a bridesmaid dress?”

Narcissa widened her eyes. “I'd completely forgotten about that, of course you do!” She squeezed Bellatrix's arm.

“What colours am I allowed then?” Bellatrix asked, feigning weariness. In truth, she was very excited to be her sister's bridesmaid.

Narcissa pondered. “The flowers are going to be white, black and a beautiful shade of russet pink. It shimmers gold in the light, I can hardly believe that they are real flowers.”

“I assume Lucius will be wearing black, and not pink?”

Narcissa giggled. “I think so.”

“I think I shall attempt to wear the pink then.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow sceptically. “Are you sure? You can wear black if you prefer.”

“A woman can't wear black to a wedding,” Bellatrix replied, wrinkling her nose. “I like to surprise people from time to time anyway. Besides, that shade of pink is rather nice.” She smiled at Narcissa, who seemed unable to keep still. “Sister, calm yourself. Treasure these last few days of single life.”

A moment later, the door opened and Lucius entered. He bowed his head briefly to Bellatrix, and was just turning to greet Narcissa, when she launched herself into his arms, kissing him eagerly on the lips. He chuckled softly when he pulled away from her.

“Not listening to your sisters' advice then?” he drawled.

“You're somewhat irresistible,” Narcissa replied, her arms still tight around him.

“No need to inflate his ego, Narcissa,” Bellatrix said, with a smirk.

“Bellatrix,” Lucius said, turning towards her. “No Dark Lord at your side?”

“He's busy,” Bellatrix responded coolly. “Been knocked out of favour by Lestrange, have you?”

“Not at all,” Lucius said smoothly. “Our Master trusts me with his political issues, and Lestrange with the simpler, more physical tasks.”

“Of course, no body has connections with the Ministry of Magic like you do... Though one day, I hope you will share.” Bellatrix smiled sweetly.

“Perhaps,” Lucius replied, turning back to Narcissa. “You could move some of your things over to the Manor today if you would like, so that you have at least seen the place before the wedding.”

Narcissa nodded. “Mother will want Bellatrix to come along... Otherwise it wouldn't be seen as proper.”

Lucius smiled. “Quite,” he responded, glancing to Bellatrix for a moment. “Though, you are of age.”

“I won't get in the way Lucius, don't you worry,” Bellatrix chipped in, rolling her eyes. “If you want to get her into bed early, I'm not going to tell on you.”

Narcissa gasped. “Bellatrix!”

Lucius chuckled. “There now, sweetheart, don't trouble yourself, Bellatrix is merely jealous.”

Bellatrix smiled, but didn't bother to reply. Clearly the Dark Lord had been talking to Lucius about her, and had made Lucius aware of how neither of them were currently getting any.
“Come, we should go and tell Mother today's plans,” she said to Narcissa. “You better come too, you know how to charm her,” she added to Lucius with a grin.

Bellatrix was starting to get very excited about her wedding now, with all of this talk of the Malfoy wedding coming up. She couldn't wait to speak to Voldemort about it.
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Power, Wealth and Social Status