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. |
Bellatrix ran into the office, not bothering to knock on the door. She could hear voices coming from inside, but she couldn't contain this news for much longer. The first face she saw when she entered was that of Rodolphus Lestrange, and then the red glittering eyes of her husband who looked particularly unimpressed at her entrance.
“I did it!” she exclaimed in excitement.
Voldemort coldly raised an eyebrow at her in response.
Impatiently, Bellatrix pushed past the six or seven other Death Eaters who were in the room and skidded to a halt in front of Voldemort, dropping to the ground. “Caradoc Dearborn!”
A hint of a smile appeared on his face, just ghosting his lips. “What about him?” he asked, although it was clear he knew full well. Dearborn was a member of the Order, being a little bit too outspoken for anyone's liking. Bellatrix had been determined to be the one to do it, and now she had managed it single-handedly.
“Dead,” Bellatrix responded with a smirk. Loud whispering broke out behind her, but neither took any notice.
“Dead?” Voldemort asked her coolly. His expression changed to amusement and he glanced towards Rodolphus. Slowly, Bellatrix looked over her shoulder and saw that Rodolphus didn't look one little bit happy. The others in the room didn't really seem entirely bothered. “Lestrange here had just been telling us of his ideas on how we could remove Dearborn.”
“Perhaps there is too much talking and not enough acting, my Lord,” Bellatrix said quickly, a grin on her face.
Behind her, she heard someone snigger. Voldemort shot them a glare and whoever it was silenced immediately. Slowly, his gaze moved back to her. “You are owed a reward then, Bella,” Voldemort said softly.
“My Lord, I must protest,” Rodolphus's voice came suddenly.
Voldemort's gaze snapped upwards once more. Even Bellatrix turned around fully to look at Rodolphus, an expression of shock on her face. Everyone else in the room looked similar. Regulus's jaw was actually hanging open. “Oh?” Voldemort said, sitting forwards in his seat, smiling mockingly.
“Bellatrix did not act under your orders, my Lord,” Rodolphus continued, deliberately not looking her way. “I believe that to be a punishable offence.”
Bellatrix laughed loudly, moving closer to Voldemort who rested a hand on her hair. “Sour are we, Lestrange?”
“Now, now, Bella,” Voldemort murmured. “Rodolphus, we spoke last week, did we not?”
There was some quiet laughter around the room as Voldemort referred to Rodolphus's hour of torture, which Voldemort only encouraged with his smile.
Rodolphus's face darkened and he bowed his head.
“I believe I asked you a question,” Voldemort continued, his voice now very cold.
“We spoke, my Lord,” Rodolphus answered, looking to the floor still. “It is just that I-” His voice caught, but he managed to continue. “I have spent a lot of time planning the death and now-”
“Do you think I care who does the job, Lestrange?” Voldemort asked, his expression now bored. “Do you think that any one else in this rooms cares that it wasn't you that did it?”
“No, my Lord,” Rodolphus said, bowing low. “Forgive my foolish words, I did not think.”
Voldemort inhaled sharply, before turning back to the rest of the group. “Spread the word, tonight we celebrate. We will meet at nine o'clock at the Silver Salamander.” He waved a hand dismissively. The last thing Bellatrix saw was Rodolphus hastily leaving the room, and then she found Voldemort had grabbed a handful of her hair and had lifted her to her feet so that he could kiss her. Bellatrix was astonished, he'd only ever kissed her in front of the Death Eaters last time they had been out, never during a meeting.
There were murmurs of surprise behind them, and when Voldemort finally let her go, all she could see was Regulus's jaw wide open once again, as Selwyn dragged him from the room. “Tom?” she said quietly as the door was finally closed, leaving them alone.
“Bella,” Voldemort breathed, pulling her close to him. “I swear to merlin you grow more beautiful every day.”
Bellatrix smiled, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair. “Only because I fall deeper in love every day.”
Voldemort laughed, picking her up and kissing her briefly. “Would you like to go out earlier and have some time alone?”
Bellatrix nodded, sighing happily into his chest. He smelt so good, and certainly felt even better, firm muscles against her cheek.
“Dinner, then we'll go,” Voldemort murmured, kissing her one last time before he pulled away from her, leading her from the room.
When the entered the pub, it was quiet. It was only around about seven o'clock so Bellatrix wasn't too surprised. She'd opted for a long dress tonight, tight fitting with a long row of buttons running down the length of her spine. Each one was imprinted with a tiny image of the dark mark, but you had to look closely to spot in. Her hair was curled into perfect corkscrew ringlets, her lips scarlet and her heels so high, she was almost as tall as Voldemort.
They had their usual bottle of wine between them and they had retreated, without being recognised, into the furthest corner of the room, hidden inside of a large stall with high backed benches.
“You did well today,” Voldemort told her after a while.
Bellatrix smiled. “Thank you. I am sorry about the way I made my entrance though.”
“It's alright, sweetheart. Your enthusiasm is a good thing for you to have.” Voldemort paused for a moment, picking up his glass and swirling around the deep red liquid inside. “I probably shouldn't have kissed you like I did.”
“Didn't mind,” Bellatrix replied quickly, grinning across the table at him. “Why does it matter? I can beat any one of them in a duel, it isn't like you've put me where you have and I'm rubbish at it.”
“You would have had me the other day if it wasn't for that stinging jinx you missed,” Voldemort said with a smirk. Bellatrix laughed. Voldemort moved forwards, picking up her hand and kissing it. “Bella,” he began, and Bellatrix could tell instantly he was about to say something serious. “What you said last week, about Lucius.”
“Tom...” Bellatrix whispered to him, about to stop him from saying any more.
Voldemort squeezed her hand. “I'm going to say this to you, like it or not.”
Bellatrix rolled her eyes, sighed but squeezed back all the same.
“I have had Lucius around me a lot, since he was about fifteen. He took over from his father at the Ministry the day that he finished Hogwarts and has been my right hand man ever since that, because we have always got on well and because he is usually the first to know if something is happening at the Ministry. It is because of this, I think, I have not told you everything as I should.” Voldemort paused, staring into her eyes. “I promise, that from now on, you will know everything that I do.”
“You know I just want to help,” Bellatrix replied, leaning over and kissing him briefly on the lips. “When did you first meet Lucius?”
Voldemort glanced around him. The only other people present were at the bar which was across the room. “Want to see?” he said, holding her chin with one hand and looking into her eyes. Once more, Bellatrix felt her mind penetrated for a second before he pulled back, bringing her with him.
A light in the near distance was all that he could see. It was coming from a large window, one which Voldemort knew was the same size as the main study of the house. The gate silently opened and the peacocks stirred from where they were sleeping. A dog barked close by, but Voldemort was unperturbed by it.
He reached the main doorway, waving a hand before the lock which caused the door to swing open. A house elf appeared out of nowhere, sensing the new comer in the building, but as soon as it saw the man with the deep hood covering his face, it seemed afraid, it's eyes wide open and it's ears drooping.
“Take me to your master,” Voldemort hissed.
The elf nodded, leading the way up the grand staircase and through the twisting halls of Malfoy manor, until they reached the only room that was lit up. Slowly, Voldemort opened the door, stepping in.
Abraxas Malfoy had been sitting at his desk, but he stood up, pulling out his wand.
“Who are you?” he demanded, only to find his wand pulled from his fingers by an invisible force, across the room.
“You must remember me,” Voldemort said coolly, reaching up and pulling down his hood.
Abraxas gasped in surprise, and slight terror Voldemort suspected. “You! You're supposed to be dead!”
“Rumours, Abraxas, rumours,” Voldemort said, closing the door behind him and stepping further into the room. He probably looked a lot different to how he had looked at school. Then there was the fact his soul was no longer fully in tact and all the transformations he had inflicted upon himself – These were big changes to a man, both inside and out. “I have been away for years.”
“But why... Why...” Abraxas seemed stunned to silence. There had been so much talk, for years, about the young boy Tom Riddle he remembered from school, dead from trying to turn himself immortal and trying to take over the world. And now, here he was, in Abraxas's study in the middle of the night. “Why have you come here?”
Voldemort smirked. “I am beginning my own army. They call themselves the Knights of Walpurgis.”
“I have heard of them,” Abraxas admitted after a while. “They are yours?”
Voldemort nodded. “Very few. Some people from Hogwarts, though none of them know it is me. Apparently I am quite unrecognisable.” He smiled coldly.
“You are coming to recruit me?” Abraxas asked, his tone concerned.
“Not as such,” Voldemort responded. “But you are a Malfoy, and the Malfoy's always support the Dark Lord. Your father supported Grindelwald. You will support me.” He paused, moving towards the window and looking out to the grounds of the house. “I am told you work for the Ministry.”
“I work in the Minister's office, I am a senior advisor,” Abraxas replied quietly.
Voldemort smirked. “Is that an official title?”
“A position my family has held for centuries. You should know that, Tom.”
Voldemort hissed in anger, turning around sharply and aiming his wand at Abraxas. “That name is dead,” he snarled, inching closer. Abraxas had turned deathly white as he noticed that Voldemort's eyes were now glowing bright red. “I have come back from the dead; reborn as Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord.”
“Of... Of course, my Lord...” Abraxas murmured, bowing his head slightly.
“I only require information from you. I need to know what is going on at the Ministry, and at Hogwarts.” Voldemort's eyes had now returned to being blue as he calmed. “I need you to introduce me to your friends – I know you have plenty of those, Abraxas.”
Abraxas nodded swiftly. “Of course,” he said, sounding much more confident now. “I can assist you. The Ministry is crawling with mudblood's, it is--”
The door behind them creaked open slightly. “Father...?” a soft voice came from behind it.
“Come in,” Abraxas called coolly. A small boy of around ten walked around the door, jumping nervously as he saw the strange, tall man in the room as well.
“I'm sorry, Sir, I couldn't sleep and I could see your light was on still...” the boy began nervously, his eyes jumping from his father to the tall man.
“My Lord,” Abraxas said, turning to look at Voldemort. “This is my son, Lucius. Lucius,” he continued, looking back to his son. “This is the Dark Lord.”
Lucius's jaw dropped open. “Wow, I've heard a lot about you!” he exclaimed. “I didn't think you were real!”
“Lucius!” Abraxas snapped coldly. “Enough.”
“No, let him speak,” Voldemort said, his expression amused. “Who have you heard about me from?”
Lucius pulled a face. “Bellatrix Black, she's a right know-it-all! Lucky for me, she's starting Hogwarts next year because she's only nine and I am ten.”
Voldemort glanced up to Abraxas. “Orion's?”
“Cygnus,” Abraxas responded with a nod.
Voldemort looked back to Lucius. “And where did this Bellatrix girl learn about me from?”
“From her stupid cousin, Evan. I don't see how he would know anything about you, whenever I see him, he's looking into a mirror.”
Abraxas looked very unimpressed with this outburst, and Lucius seemed to know it. He swallowed nervously. Voldemort chuckled. “Perhaps you should go back to bed now,” Voldemort said after a moment. “It's very late.”
Lucius nodded. “It was very nice meeting you, Sir. Goodnight.”
With that, he left the room, closing the door behind himself. Neither Abraxas or Voldemort spoke for a while.
“He is very much like you,” Voldemort murmured.
“A smart boy,” Abraxas agreed. He hesitated slightly. “His mother died last year.”
Voldemort didn't respond for a while, he merely turned back to the window, contemplating. A few minutes passed until he spoke again. “He is every bit the Malfoy heir. I hope to see more of him, one day.” He turned around. “I shall be in contact.” Slowly, Voldemort walked towards the door. “Until then.”
Bellatrix withdrew from him, a smirk etched on her features. “Was Evan your follower at this point?”
Voldemort nodded. “He's just as vein now as he was back then. Do you remember him telling you about me?”
“Of course,” Bellatrix said, grinning. “He told me of an amazing and powerful dark wizard who wished to purify the world. I wanted to meet you so many times, but father wouldn't allow it.” She stopped speaking, looking away from Voldemort for a moment. “Perhaps it was my mother that wouldn't allow it.”
“That would hardly be a surprise.”
“Quite,” Bellatrix responded, smirking, looking back at him. “We were confined to our rooms whenever you were at home, although I once sneaked out of my room, just as you were leaving, and saw the back of you. I ran for it when you turned around though.”
“Didn't see you, but I do remember sensing some eyes on me... How old were you?”
“Thirteen perhaps. Just began to grow an interest in men.” Bellatrix smiled. “And then, three years later, to my surprise father said I could meet you.”
“A very good day,” Voldemort murmured.
Bellatrix laughed and nodded. “The first thing I did was run to my room to change and put on some make up. He couldn't have picked a better day really, mother was out with Narcissa and Andromeda. We were all alone.”
Voldemort laughed quietly, reaching out for her hand, before his expression changed to a more serious one. “Promise me you are alright.”
“Why wouldn't I be?” Bellatrix asked, surprised. It was unlike him to say such things, usually their conversations were pretty light, especially in public.
“Your life has changed to much in the past year. It is my duty, as your husband, to make sure that you are happy.” He tilted his head, staring deeply into her eyes, and yet Bellatrix didn't think for one moment he was reading her thoughts. He did seem to have been doing that a lot less recently, as if he wanted to find everything out through what she told him alone. “You behave beyond your years.”
Bellatrix smiled gently, looking back into his ruby red eyes. “I have a most excellent tutor.”
“And what is he called?” Voldemort teased, smirking at her.
“Tom Riddle,” Bellatrix responded quickly, taking a sip of her wine with a grin flashed at him.
“Don't know him,” Voldemort replied, sitting back and drinking his wine too, his eyes still not leaving hers.
Bellatrix giggled. “Do I use it too often?” she asked after a while.
“Yes,” Voldemort responded, leaning towards her. “Is that going to stop you?”
“Nope!” Bellatrix said loudly, laughing.
“As I thought,” Voldemort said, shaking his head in mock disdain. “You are my most disobedient Death Eater, Bellatrix Riddle.”
Bellatrix smiled, pleased he had just called her that, for the first time. That was one thing she didn't like about her marriage, the fact she had to keep her maiden name, although it was still a lot better than being called Lestrange or Malfoy.
“That may well be true, but I am your wife, as you have just pointed out, therefore I am allowed to be,” Bellatrix told him. “Will you be a darling and fetch us some more wine?” she continued, knowing she was pushing her luck there.
Sure enough, Voldemort merely stared at her, picking up his own glass, which was still almost full with wine, taking a sip and then placing it back down on the table pointedly.
“I should take that as a no?”
“You should indeed, Bella.” Voldemort smirked, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out a handful of gold. “Go on, go crazy.”
Bellatrix took the money, pausing uncertainly. “You mean it?”
“When was the last time we had a crazy night together?”
“Every night is crazy, my love,” Bellatrix told him, before going up to the bar. She could feel his gaze on her as she ordered, and as she returned, laden down with drinks, she could see a tiny smile on his lips and very adoring eyes.
“I love you,” he told her quietly as she set down the four shots and two glasses of firewhiskey.
Bellatrix sat down on his lap, planting a kiss on his lips. “I love you more.”
“It shouldn't be possible, you know,” Voldemort continued, whispering into her ear. “My soul is in pieces all around the world.”
“Don't I know it,” Bellatrix whispered back, hugging him tightly. “I'm just irresistible, you must accept it,” she continued, moving away from him and sitting down on the seat, passing him a shot. “Come on, try and keep up with me.”
Voldemort smirked suddenly. “I remember when we last went crazy, my dearest wife. You were sick and told me you were never going to drink again.”
“Don't remember that,” Bellatrix told him, although she did remember it all too well.
“Not surprised there,” Voldemort retorted, picking up the shot. “Come on then.”
“My Lord,” Bellatrix said, as they tapped glasses.
“My Lady,” Voldemort responded, still smirking as the glass touched his lips. He swallowed it without difficulty, and simply sat back in his seat when it was gone. Bellatrix gasped, taking a large gulp of his wine to remove the taste. “Try and keep up with me,” he mocked, grinning knowingly at her.
“Shut up,” she muttered, picking up the second one and drinking it. She pulled a face, but found this one went down much easier. She looked up, sensing his gaze upon her. He was still smiling.
“Sit here,” he said, patting the seat next to him. She did as she was told, resting a hand on his thigh. He ran his fingers through her hair.
“Will you show me some more memories?” she asked hesitantly after a while.
“Of what?” Voldemort asked quietly.
“Horcrux's...” she whispered in his ear.
Voldemort laughed. “Not here, you will be sick.”
Bellatrix shook her head. “I won't be sick.”
“You will,” Voldemort told her firmly, taking hold of the hand that was on his leg. “Trust me, you will.”
There was silent for a moment, and then Voldemort reached for his shot and drank it in one.
“I don't see what could be so bad,” Bellatrix mumbled.
“I will show you another day,” Voldemort told her. “And then you will understand what happens.”
Bellatrix nodded, wondering even more now what happened when a Horcrux was created. It was driving her insane not knowing and she was certain he knew that. She glanced around her, a large group had just entered the pub, so she moved away so that she was sat opposite him again. He winked across the table at her, picking up his firewhiskey. She looked up, the group that had just entered were definitely Death Eaters and they all seemed quite loud and drunk already.
“Your loyal followers have arrived,” Bellatrix said, smirking. Voldemort looked around and saw them, before looking back to her.
“I suspect their loyalty lies with the bar right now,” he responded lightly. “However, I expect them to pay their dues in the very near future.”
“I'll pay you dues,” Bellatrix told him, leaning forwards suggestively. Voldemort pulled her arm forwards, tracing his fingers lightly over her dark mark. It burnt, slightly, but everyone else in the bar must have felt it as well. One by one, they moved towards him, bowing slightly, but formed a ring around their table, returning to their conversations once they had greeted the Dark Lord.
Bellatrix giggled, kissing his hand. “My Lord,” she said sarcastically.
“How will you repay me?” Voldemort asked her quietly, watching her carefully.
“However you want, Master,” Bellatrix replied, her smirk changing to a smile.
“So what do we have here?” a male voice slurred from behind Bellatrix. Voldemort was smiling as he saw who it was.
Bellatrix looked over her shoulder and saw Evan leaning on the back of her bench, a glass of something hanging from one hand.
“Evan, you're pissed,” she accused.
Voldemort slapped her hand lightly. “Language,” he snapped. Bellatrix rolled her eyes at him before looking back to her cousin.
“Evan, you're drunk,” she rephrased, sticking her tongue out at Voldemort.
“You sound like my bloody mother!” Evan slurred back at her. He moved around the table, sitting down next to Voldemort. “See that gal over there?” he said, pointing at a blonde beauty near to the bar. “I'm going to marry her.”
“A girl actually said yes to marry you?” Bellatrix asked incredulously. “There must be something wrong with her.”
“Haven't asked her yet, actually,” Evan retorted, taking a long gulp of his drink.
“Don't you think you should?” Voldemort said, smirking.
“Would you ask her for me? Reckon she'll say yes to you more then she'll say yes to me,” Evan replied and he was definitely serious.
“I think that Lord Voldemort is already married and does not need another wife,” Bellatrix said quietly. “Honestly, Evan, you are appalling.”
Evan grinned. “Yep, but she's coming over so I must be doing something right!” He turned to the blonde, who was indeed walking over. She reached Evan, but carried on going, heading straight for Voldemort.
“You were meant to meet me!” she said loudly, and her accent was very a very strong London one.
Voldemort raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Three years ago, you was meant to meet me the next night!”
Bellatrix carefully hid her smirk. This girl didn't seem too bright.
Voldemort narrowed his eyes. “And you are?”
The girl put her hands on her hips, thrusting her weight to her other foot. “Rosaline Flint!” she almost shouted. Evan looked devastated, picking up Bellatrix's glass and taking a swig of that, now his own drink was gone.
Bellatrix's mouth dropped open. “Flint?” she said, looking from Voldemort to Rosaline and then back again. “You slept with a Flint?”
Rosaline glared at Bellatrix. “Who the bloody 'ell are you?” she asked loudly.
“Never mind who I am, do you know who you are talking to?” Bellatrix responded in surprise.
“Yeh, I do, 'fank you very much, m'love!” Rosaline said.
Bellatrix could see Voldemort's expression meant he wasn't impressed at being spoken to in the way he was.
“You are talking to the Dark Lord,” Bellatrix hissed, drawing her wand. “I suggest you use a tone of respect before I kill you.”
Rosaline laughed stupidly. “Why don' you go back ta the whore-house you came from?”
A green light hit Rosaline in the chest before Bellatrix had the chance to move. She fell to the floor. Bellatrix was glad that there was a huge crowd of Death Eaters around them so that no outsider could have seen it happen. Most of the men had turned around too have a look.
“Dispose of the body,” Voldemort ordered, his tone cold. “And get me another bottle of red.”
“Guess you'd better find someone else to marry,” Bellatrix said softly to Evan, taking her glass back from him. Evan returned to the bar, shaking his head. She looked towards Voldemort, who stared back at her, a hint of a smile on his face. “My hero,” Bellatrix said in a hushed tone to her husband.
“Couldn't have her speak about you like that,” he responded with a smirk as someone placed the bottle of wine on the table before Voldemort. He first topped up his glass, and then Bellatrix's. “In my defence, that was a very crazy night,” he told her quietly.
Bellatrix sniggered. “A Flint though? Seriously?”
“She didn't tell me her last name. Looking at her, you would think Malfoy.”
“Until she opens her trap,” Bellatrix said, giggling. “Poor Evan is heartbroken.”
Lucius had arrived and was coming over, a large glass in his hand. “Playing nicely, are we?” he drawled as Bellatrix moved closer to Voldemort so that he could sit down.
“Of course,” Voldemort responded smoothly. “No body insults my wife and gets away with it, Lucius.”
“Malfoy is always insulting me,” Bellatrix chipped in, pouring herself a glass from the bottle.
Voldemort laughed. “So you wish for me to kill him next time he does?” he inquired.
“No,” Bellatrix sighed. “My sister would kill both of us.” Lucius and Voldemort laughed quietly. “Where is Narcissa, anyway?”
“Visiting your parents, something you should try to do once in a while, Bellatrix,” Lucius replied coolly.
“Why?” Bellatrix said coldly. “My mother has it in for me.”
“Bella...” Voldemort growled.
“Oh, you know she does,” Bellatrix said to Voldemort, frowning. “I should prefer to do what you did with your-”
“Bellatrix!” Voldemort snapped, his eyes beginning to look cold now.
Bellatrix sighed, sitting back in her seat, clutching her wine glass.
“Not quite the mother-in-law from hell, but close to it,” Lucius murmured to Voldemort.
“I've had dealing with Druella, that is true,” Voldemort replied. “But I will put up with her.”
“Would prefer you not to,” Bellatrix told him, pouting. “Don't be cross.”
“I'm not,” Voldemort reassured her, resting his foot next to hers under the table. “Will Narcissa be joining us later?”
“I expect not,” Lucius said softly. “She's not one for these... Occasions... I shan't be staying late either.”
“Ah yes,” Bellatrix said smugly. “Day job to get to.”
“No, not tomorrow,” Lucius retorted, smug as well. “Tomorrow we have a luncheon with the Minister and his wife.”
Bellatrix giggled. “You poor thing,” she said.
Voldemort nodded. “Come to me after. We will speak alone.” Bellatrix shot him a glare, which he didn't miss. “The three of us.”
Bellatrix smiled, topping up his wine glass. She glanced up, feeling eyes on her, noticing Rodolphus was sat by the bar. There were three empty glasses before him and he was just downing his fourth. He hastily looked away when he realised he had been caught, and Rabastan arrived and distracted him anyway.
Quite suddenly, Narcissa appeared out of the crowd. Bellatrix could see that she looked upset and dishevelled, as if she had been crying. Lucius stood up instantly, moving towards her. She whispered something in his ear, before turning and leaving the bar. Lucius turned back to Bellatrix and Voldemort, hastily downing his drink.
“I think you should come with us,” he whispered.
“What has happened?” Voldemort asked coolly.
“A family affair,” Lucius said pointedly staring at Bellatrix for a moment.
Feeling sick, Bellatrix stood, and Voldemort followed. A few seconds later, Bellatrix felt someone holding her hand, and when she turned she saw it was her husband. She felt her other hand being gripped as well and saw that was Evan.
It was quite surreal for Bellatrix, as she stood outside of the bar in Knockturn Ally, holding hands with both her husband and her cousin. All she could see were tears running down Narcissa's face and she briefly wondered if, after all she had just said, their mother had been taken ill.
“Mother and father have just received this,” Narcissa said, her hands shaking as she passed Bellatrix a crumpled piece of parchment.
Bellatrix lifted the paper so she could see it, acutely away of Voldemort and Evan reading over her shoulders.
Dear mother and father,
I have left Hogwarts and am going to marry Ted. I know you do not think much of him since he is only a mudblood to you, but to me he is the love of my life and I do not wish to live a lie any more. I will not be back for any of my things, we are going to begin a new life together.
I hope that in time you will forgive me and that you will see me again. I know that Bellatrix will not, since she is now a slave of the dark, but Narcissa I think will be more forgiving. I hope that you both are as well.
I love you all.
Andromeda Tonks.
Bellatrix threw the paper onto the ground as rage bubbled up inside of her. How dare Andromeda marry a mudblood? She pulled away from Voldemort and Evan, pushing passed the Malfoy's, storming up the cobbled street of Knockturn Ally. She took her wand out from her pocket, blasting bins and shop windows and doors – Anything that she could see would be ruined, she was determined. There was wetness on her face, and as she touched it she realised she was crying. Tears of anger were streaming down her face. How dare Andromeda ruin things for her like this? Did she want to destroy the good name of the Black family? Why had she not dealt with the issue when it first arouse?
There were footsteps behind her. She ignored them, carrying on.
“Bella.”
“Leave me alone!” she screamed, setting fire to some plants growing outside of a shop.
“Bellatrix,” Voldemort voice continued, getting closer to her now.
Bellatrix ignored him, walking on. They were almost at Diagon Ally. She wanted to completely obliterate Diagon Ally.
“Bellatrix Ridde!”
She stopped walking, crying even harder now. She could hear his footsteps getting even louder behind her, and suddenly she turned around, launching herself into his arms. “Why?” she asked between sobs. “Why?”
“It's not your fault, my beloved,” Voldemort whispered to her. “Do not blame yourself.”
“I cannot blame anyone else,” Bellatrix told him, burying her head in his chest. “Who else is there?”
The others were approaching. Narcissa was crying just as much, but for a different reason Bellatrix suspected.
“Have they removed her from the tapestry?” Bellatrix demanded of Narcissa. “Tell me they did it instantly.”
“Not yet, it's too soon, they're hoping she will change her mind,” Narcissa said between sobs.
“She's a traitor, a blood traitor!” Bellatrix screamed, pulling free of Voldemort's grip. “I'm going to find her and kill her, as soon as I have removed her from my family!”
She aimed for a nearby tree, setting it alight, watching in satisfaction as the spell left her wand without so much as a word, as if the magic had been directed by her anger alone. She turned back to Voldemort, who seemed to be watching her with a certain pride, before she grabbed his wrist and disapparated them away.
x-----x
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