For the Collect a Collection Challenge (Black Family: Bellatrix) and the One Word Title Oneshot Challenge (infinite)

I.

When she first meets her master, she can feel something stir inside her. Little butterflies tickle her stomach, and Bellatrix fights back the urge to giggle.

He is not handsome by any means. But her attraction to him goes so far beyond physical aesthetics. Something in the way his cold eyes narrow, in the way he doesn't seem to care about any of the people before him, in the way he holds himself above them all like a king. He radiates power, and Bellatrix can feel herself being drawn closer.

II.

"I hear congratulations are in order," he says, and there's a smirk on his lips as though he might be amused.

Bellatrix bows her head. "Thank you, my Lord."

She doesn't tell her master the truth. She dreads the thought of binding herself to Rodolphus. It's only being done out of necessity. She would remain unmarried and wait a hundred years for her master, if he asked her.

But he doesn't.

III.

She far too bold for her own good. She knows that she has overstepped, and yet Bellatrix doesn't care. She only wants to serve him. He is her master. She is far more loyal to him than her own husband.

The Dark Lord pulls away from her touch, his eyes wide. "I don't think you know what you're doing," he says.

But she does. She's dreamed of this for so long. He is all that she wants, all that she needs. Rodolphus is weak. Rodolphus is a fool. He could never excite her the way her master does.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but I think that I do."

He doesn't reject her touch again, but she can feel the hesitation in his body. He does not love her, but that's okay. She has a husband for unnecessary things like that.

He wants her. Maybe he even needs her. And that is enough to send a shiver of excitement through her body.

She is blessed. She can serve her master in a way that no one else can.

IV.

"Perhaps it's best that we just lay low," Rodolphus suggests.

Bellatrix reacts without though. Her palm connects sharply with his cheek, and Rodolphus recoils, his eyes wide and swimming with shock.

"Our master is out there, you fool!" she snaps. "Whatever they say, he is still there! We must find him!"

And maybe she should believe the rumors. Maybe he is gone, defeated, and they should retreat into the shadows, licking their wounds and waiting.

But she cannot. She will not. A life of just Rodolphus is terribly dull. She needs her master, and if she has to seek him out alone, so be it.

"What do you have in mind?" her husband asks quietly.

V.

Even in her cell, her thoughts still turn to his master. They were unsuccessful, but she will not give up hope. Perhaps it would be wise, but she cannot.

That's the trouble with sort of love and devotion she feels for him. It doesn't just fade away when the universe turns against her. It is infinite, everlasting and unfading. She is still just as hopelessly lost in the thought of him as she was when she was a teenaged girl taking on the Dark Mark.

He is out there. And she will wait for him. If it means spending a lifetime in here, she will.

Her devotion will never change.