Author's Notes: This chapter was a lot of fun to write. I find that I very, very rarely like anyone's characterization of Lord Voldemort. People assume that because Voldemort's an evil sociopath he's necessarily a nutcase; I disagree. The man's brilliant and powerful - he's arrogant, sure, egotistical, overconfidant, but I hate it when people write him as unbalanced or openly crazy. This is the guy who held the wizarding world under his thumb in a reign of terror for ten years, who has come closer than anyone ever before to attaining immortality - and people write him as if any old wizard off the street could defeat him with the use of a little horse sense.

Voldemort is scary! Voldemort is evil! Voldemort is the most powerful wizard, following HP&HBP, still alive! I mean, gawd, guys, give him a little credit. He's not a looney-toon. He's a completely rational sociopath - just because he's mentally disturbed doesn't mean he's unstable.

Um, now that I'm done ranting. I hope you like my characterization of him 0

Chapter Six: Ties That Break

"Mother, stop fussing!" Bellatrix snapped, trying to swat away her mother's hands.

"You stand still," she retorted, and continued to pull and push at her daughter's robes. "I wish I'd had time to take you down to Twilfit's for a proper fitting, but I suppose you don't look too bad," she said discontentedly.

"They're your old robes," Bellatrix said angrily. "I don't see why you're so worried. Rodolphus isn't proposing to you."

She'd been standing on a stool while her mother twitted about her for nearly an hour, and she was already peevish and cranky. They were beautiful robes; thick red satin that fell with a heavy elegance when she moved, and which followed every curve of her body. She positively glowed in them, her black hair crackling with electricity. She looked beautiful; she always did.

It wasn't even as if Rodolphus was proposing that night – as far as she knew, and she'd bullied it out of Rabastan, he was waiting until they were alone on Christmas morning. He certainly wouldn't do it in a crowd at the Black Christmas Eve party, with all her relatives there. Rodolphus was far more private than that.

"Has he met with Father yet? Rodolphus?"

"Yes, of course he has! As if your father would refuse permission. God knows, we're both delighted for you. Or for us, more's the truth. The sooner you're married, with a man to settle you," and she emphasized settle with another tug at Bellatrix's robes, "the happier I'll be. Now, put this on!"

Bellatrix bad-temperedly took the long gold chain her mother offered, and moved to put it around her neck.

"Not like that, stupid!" With a hiss of irritation, Ariadne snatched it out of her daughter's hand and began to weave the jewelry through her daughter's long black hair.

"You look like a queen," Ariadne said, grudgingly. "You're far prettier than me, or your Father. You must have your Uncle's blood in you; it's not from my side of the family."

This was true: Bellatrix was the prettiest of the Black sisters. Narcissa was lovely, too, but there was something off in her delicate features, a hint of smugness or self-satisfied contentment that ruined her beauty; and Andromeda, though also pretty, was of commoner stock, with her thick brown curls and broad face. Bellatrix was the one who looked royal.

"I'm sure this will do," Bellatrix said curtly. "Are you done with me yet?"

"Yes, I'm done, you can get down. Your Aunt will be fit to burst, she's always wanted a daughter and all she has are sons!" Ariadne Black's face was a picture of contentment at the last, and she regarded her daughter with rather more fondness.

"I do love you, Bellatrix," she said more softly as Bella moved to the door. "You look radiant tonight."

Two hours later, and Bellatrix felt as radiant as a horned toad. She stood toward the edge of a bustling mass of relatives all gathered in her Aunt's grand parlor, ruing the day that wizardkind had ever co-opted Christmas. It had to be her least favorite holiday. Actually, Bellatrix didn't much care for any holiday in particular – most were either filthy muggle traditions the Ministry had made into state-sponsored celebrations for the day off, or else excuses for her relatives to get roaringly drunk.

Actually, Uncle Alphard was almost always drunk, even on Christmas Eve, when he ought to have known better, what with Auntie Araminta nearby.

Although, as Bellatrix sourly reflected, having to live with Araminta Meliflua Black might drive anyone to drink. The old crone was nearly one hundred and forty, but she was as evil-tempered as she'd ever been, back in the good old days when she'd nearly persuaded the Ministry to make muggle-hunting legal. Good old Auntie Araminta.

Suddenly, her little cousin Sirius was tugging on her robes, as if he were two, and not twelve.

"Well? Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" she snapped at him, before taking a long drink of her firewhisky.

"Oh, you're no fun now you've decided to be all grown-up," Sirius said in obvious annoyance. "Just because you've left Hogwarts you've taken up all sorts of airs like you're an adult, and not only just a few years older than Narcissa, and she said she'd play Transfiguration Charades with all of us."

"Oh, all right, then," Bellatrix said with a sigh. It was no use; even though she was eighteen, and knew for a fact that Rodolphus Lestrange was going to give her the heirloom sapphire ring tomorrow. Her mother still treated her like a peevish child, after all. Bellatrix might be peevish – but if Ariadne knew what it was her daughter did when she went off into the night…. Well, she didn't, and that was for the best, Bellatrix reminded herself sharply as she allowed Sirius to drag her off, out of the long parlor where her entire family had gathered.

Bellatrix had always liked visiting her Aunt and Uncle's home in London. The Lesser Blacks – as Orion always called his side of the family, much to Ariadne's displeasure – owned a comfortable and entirely respectable home, but it lacked the ancient grandeur of Aquila Black's manor home, for all that 12 Grimmauld Place was currently surrounded by the filthiest of muggle neighborhoods. The muggle city always changed, but Wizarding London endured in its midst, hidden and unseen and far more permanent.

Narcissa and Regulus – and, to Bellatrix's surprise, Andromeda – were all in the little bedroom on the third floor, which the Black children had always used as their own private playroom. It was like being very young again, Bellatrix reflected softly, as she sat down in her own spot, in the corner by the door.

"She came!" Sirius said delightedly. "You owe me a knut, Andromeda. I said she'd come, but you were so sure she was all grown up now."

"I'm going to regret this," Bellatrix said languorously. "I'm only doing it to humor you little children, you know."

"Little children?" Andromeda spluttered, laughing. "If I'm only eleven months younger, what does that make you, Bella?"

"Eleven months older," she said with a smirk. "So, what is it, Sirius? Transfiguration Charades again?"

"What, like you've got a better idea?" he said scornfully.

"We could play truth or dare," Regulus suggested quietly.

"That's a girl's game!" Sirius said, insufferably the older sibling.

"Is not!" Regulus piped up again. "I played it with Severus Snape at school before, and he's not a girl."

"Looks like it, with that hair of his," Narcissa said revoltedly. "Do you know, I hear he isn't even a pureblood! Things they let in Slytherin these days."

This piqued Bellatrix's interest. She'd always had a very healthy amount of loyalty to her house, after all. "Snape? That greasy little kid who had a way with a wand? He's the one who used tarantallegra on you on the trainride up, isn't he?" she said to Sirius.

"And I got Snivellus right back with Densaugeo!" Sirius retorted, angrily.

"Why don't we just play Charades?" Andromeda interjected before it got too ugly. Sirius and Regulus had been bickering all day about house rivalries; Sirius was another Gryffindor – there hadn't been two at a time since the 1830s – and he was horrible to Regulus since his brother had been sorted into Slytherin.

They passed a happy few minutes playing charades again. Bellatrix got 'Merlin', which she thought was absolutely unfair – all the rest had been given things like tea kettles – but there was a stuffed Gryffin's head over the mantelpiece, which she managed to give a very long white beard. After Regulus shouted out Dumbledore and Narcissa guessed Uncle Alphard, Sirius guessed Merlin's Beard, which Andromeda said was good enough.

Then Sirius and Narcissa got into an argument about whether it was sporting to try to jinx Regulus while he was transfiguring, and the whole thing descended into chaos.

"Oh, this is stupid," Bellatrix said after Sirius actually tried to hit Regulus with his wand. "I can't believe I'm playing with all of you children. I'm going to go find Rodolphus."

Rodolphus had been invited to the Black Family Christmas by Ariadne, after pleading with Aunt Cassiopeia, because, as Ariadne said, "He's going to be family by next June, so he ought to start meeting all your relatives, dear."

Bellatrix had been neglecting him dreadfully. Had her mother had her way, Bellatrix would have been attached to his arm, hanging on his every word, but that became boring after more than a few hours. Rodolphus, for all that he was a loyal servant to her Master, was nevertheless a wearisome conversationalist more interested in hunting than anything Bellatrix cared to speak of. As if she gave a damn about how he'd bagged a Graphorn single-handedly in the Swiss Alps!

Not, she reflected, that playing silly games with her young cousins was any better.

She was just about to go down to the party – where Ariadne would undoubtedly tell her off for getting her new robes dirty, as if she were eight, and not eighteen – when Andromeda caught her arm.

"I just want to say thank you for coming up to play, even if it was only for a little while," she said rather breathlessly. "Sirius and Regulus have been just beastly to each other, and I really thought they might be decent if we pretended it was just like old times. I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

"You didn't drag me into this," Bellatrix said indignantly. "Anyway, Sirius was the one who came pleading, not you."

"After I bet him a knut you wouldn't come?" she said with eyebrows raised. "You know he can't resist a challenge. Anyway, I just wanted to say – sorry."

Bellatrix was very tempted to be angry and to storm away in a huff, but she was older, and more mature, and she let it pass. "Don't worry. It was more entertaining than listening to Great Auntie Elladora tell us about her trip to Dover again. I don't really want to go down to Rodolphus, anyway." She sighed heavily, leaning against the wall, and suddenly she sat down on the stair.

"Andromeda, it's so strange right now," Bellatrix said. "I feel – I'm eighteen. I'm more than of age, and I'm to be married before my next birthday. I'm supposed to be an adult, and yet sometimes I feel like a perfect child. Mother still treats me like one, and Father – he hasn't spoken to me since this summer when he had to drag me out of the Ministry prisons. And that's another thing!"

"Shh," Andromeda said. "You're shouting, someone will hear. Come on, let's go upstairs."

They went up into the very top, in the attic, which hadn't been cleaned in years, and sat on the rickety bed together, just as they had when they were three years younger, and had been gossiping about boys.

"Oh, it's all so confused," Bellatrix said, shaking her head angrily. "I feel like – like I'm running through life. No, that's not right – like life is running through me!"

"Yes, I know," Andromeda said, her voice strange and very old. Bellatrix looked up, and saw that Andromeda had a hand on her stomach, and was staring into space.

"It's – it's like there's a war on," Andromeda said with a shudder. "There is a war on! A decade ago, we might have been allowed a few years, but now – with politics and everything… well, mother wants you married as soon as possible, and father spends all his time in the Ministry trying to pretend he can keep our family neutral forever. I don't know, Bella. I don't know what to do." The last was said so quietly Bellatrix almost couldn't hear it.

"Andromeda, have you – no, of course you have, I mean – Andromeda, have you thought about this summer at all?"

"Yes."

"You have to make a decision. Now. I know we both still feel like children sometimes, but we aren't – we both know that, however much we might like to pretend otherwise. We have to choose sides. You've already said it, our world is going to erupt into war, maybe next year, maybe the year after. This can't be avoided. Father knows it; that's why he's been so pale and tense."

"No. I won't, Bellatrix, I know what you'll ask of me and I say no."

"You idiot!" Bellatrix exclaimed, leaping to her feet. "Do you really think he'll let you live if you refuse him? You've got to go and be a bloody noble Gryffindor, and you're going to die for it. Andromeda, listen to me –"

"You don't understand and you never have," Andromeda was saying, her fists clenched. "You think that just because we're sisters you know who I am, what I am, but you've never understood that I'm not like you, Bellatrix. I don't look at a man and want to cause him pain because of what he is – not even who, but what – I've never been like that. There are some things I cannot do, and I cannot side with a man who –" But she cut herself off, terror in her eyes, and they both knew why.

"You don't understand, either, Andromeda," Bellatrix said, keeping a tight rein on her anger. She wanted to scream and rage, but that would do more harm than good, she knew. It was imperative that Andromeda be made to understand. "You think it's a matter of choosing sides, like picking white or black on a chessboard? It's about – about giving yourself up for something greater than yourself, doing something so magnificent, for a cause so fantastic, that even your own life seems insignificant. This isn't some petty power struggle, this is a revolution about to happen, and it will crush you, Andromeda, if you don't submit to the inevitable. You have to humble yourself – I know that's hard for you and your stiff-necked Gryffindor pride, but there's courage to be found, Merlin knows! There's courage and honor and chivalry, too. There's the glory of ancient tradition and the new birth of the old ways to fight for, and if that isn't worth fighting for, I don't know what is!"

"What about peace," Andromeda said, her voice very low. "What about justice? About liberty and equality? What about trying to create, instead of destroying everything in your way? What about building, rather than tearing everything down first? I'll fight for that, Bellatrix."

"You don't understand," Bellatrix said, looking into her sister's eyes.

Andromeda nodded. "Neither do you."

"I know – I know we've never been close," Bellatrix said awkwardly. "Especially the past few years, since you were made a prefect. But, for God's sake, we're sisters. I love you, Andromeda. I can't bear to see you die because you're too stubborn to save yourself!"

To Bellatrix's very great shock, Andromeda began to cry. Andromeda never cried, as a rule. Growing up, Bellatrix had had her black rages, and Narcissa had dissolved into tears, but Andromeda had simply tolerated her tempestuous sisters, and shelved away unhappiness as impractical. And now, she was sobbing into Bellatrix's shoulder.

It was so impossible. She couldn't give her own blood up as a lost cause, but she could find no way of making Andromeda see. She'd always been so stubborn and contrary, never content to follow Bellatrix's lead without grumbling or sniping or second-guessing, and now she was going to through her own life away and be glad of it out of sheer mule-headedness.

"Bellatrix, come away with me," Andromeda breathed after a few minutes.

"What?"

"If I can't join your side, you could join mine," she said in a rush. "If you did, Mother and Father would follow, and Narcissa. It doesn't have to be this way! You could side with the Light, and –"

"I cannot leave my Master," Bellatrix said, her hooded eyes gleaming darkly with anger.

"You can!" Andromeda exclaimed. "I know there's good in you, Bellatrix. You saved my life – you almost died for me. Why can't you come away with me and leave Him? Come to Dumbledore! If you went to him willingly he'd protect you, and we could fight. If we stand together, Bellatrix, we could overcome –"

Bellatrix had stepped away, and suddenly she was imperious again, her bearing regal and terrifying. "How dare you! I, become a bloodtraitor? I, leave my Master to whom I pledged eternal service, eternal devotion? I would rather die like a dog, be cut down in the street and made to live as a slave, than to abandon my Lord! Do not ask this of me, Andromeda, or I shall forget that we are sisters."

"Then it is decided," Andromeda said, defeat in every line of her body. "You shall go one way, and I shall go another."

"No," Bellatrix said, "I shall go to my Master, and you shall die for your defiance."

They were at an impasse. Slowly, Bellatrix began to move toward the door.

"Bellatrix!" Andromeda cried out, in shock and pain, and Bellatrix knew why. Her own mark had seared painfully, and she knew she had to leave, now, immediately –

"You're going to Him?" she said in horror.

"So you can feel it, too," Bellatrix said, more to herself than to Andromeda. "I had wondered whether you might. Make my excuses to Mother."

Without another word, she fled, rushing down the stairs. As she passed the third floor landing, she saw Sirius looking worried and suspicious, but she did not stop when he called after her. Her long red dress robes whipping behind her, she silently summoned her cloak and mask as she ran toward the door. She slipped out of her Uncle's home silently, and stood in the night.

Slowly, she fitted her mask over her face, and slipped on her cloak. Then, baring her arm so that the burning pain might guide her, she disapparated, slipping away into the night.

She was in a place she did not know.

She had expected Ysgyryd Fawr, where her Master normally held court at the great summonses and revels, or else in the Harz mountains, where he had his oldest ties, and where he still marked his Death Eaters.

Instead, she was standing in a graveyard – a muggle graveyard – and below there was only a tiny village. There was a manor house, too, she saw with some surprise; it looked as if it might belong to a wizard, but she knew of no family to lived near a village such as this.

"Master?" she called out into the darkness, with her wand held out in front of her. She did not make a light.

"Come, Bellatrix," He said, and she saw Him suddenly, standing on the crest of a hill by the manor house, overlooking the cemetery.

Moving silently, she picked her way through the head stones to where her Lord stood. His eyes, an eerie shade of red with small, black pupils, were fixed on a far distant point to the West of the village.

"I am afraid I have not brought you here with some great purpose," he said softly. "I merely need to ascertain a few things."

"What do you want from me, Master?" Her heart was pounding with fear and delight, as it always did in His presence. She could not still the rapid rush of blood to her head.

"You are to be married to the Lestrange heir," he said, walking with slow deliberation toward the manor house.

"Yes," she said, falling a step behind him. "This June. Does this displease you, my Lord?"

"No, Bellatrix. He is a faithful servant, and his brother, too, shall come into the fold. Tell me, Bellatrix, do you wish to marry him?"

"I – I am not displeased, and I shall not refuse –" She broke off, unsure. She had not anticipated this.

"Do you love him?"

"No, my Lord." This she knew. "Perhaps I will come to love him."

Her Master chuckled, a high, cold laughter. "Do not lie to yourself, Bella, it is too transparent. I am touched, I am touched."

She colored under her mask. Her Master always knew the truth. "I am sorry if my thoughts are too bold, my Lord. I simply do not know how I could love a mere man when there is – you."

"Very good, very good!" he said, clapping his hands together. "That is as it should be. But I am pleased with the match. You should have children, they will be fine servants."

Bellatrix hesitated, and was sure that he sensed it. Desperately, she said, "Of course, my Lord."

"No? You are an amazon! Well, perhaps not yet, perhaps not yet. He will want an heir, however, and you do owe him that. But we speak of trifles."

They had come directly to the manor. It was three stories high, a squat brick residence that was grand in its own way but was clearly muggle-made, Bellatrix saw. An old family, perhaps, but not wizarding. It lacked the tingling sense of ancient magic.

"My Lord, if I might be so bold –"

"Why are we here, rather than in the usual places? No, I don't think I shall tell you now, Bella. Perhaps another time. No, I have a question for you, and this a more serious inquiry. Tell me of your sister."

"Narcissa or Andromeda, my Lord?" she said, stalling for time.

"Come, you know better than that!" he snapped, and his voice was like a whip, all amusement gone from it. "Well? Will she fall into line?"

Feeling as if her heart might be torn in two, Bellatrix said, "I – I do not know, my Lord. I – she has not come around yet, but I will try, Master!"

"Try!" he barked, and his anger was like unsheathed steel. "Do not test my patience, Bellatrix, I shall not be so fooled. Either she will come, or she will not. Tell me!"

"No! No, she will not come," Bellatrix said, and was disgusted to hear a sob in her voice.

"You are weak, Bella," he said, danger in the last syllable of her name. "You let your family have too great a hold on you. She will not come, she will not be loyal, and still you care for her life? Crucio!"

And suddenly she was in pain, in agony, every inch of her body burning in torment, but it was as nothing to the knowledge that she had displeased her master. She sobbed and sobbed as He held her under His curse, and could not stop when the pain lifted, and there was only silence but for her tears as she lay at his feet in the dust.

"Get up, Bella."

She stood.

"I shall not deny that I am angry. You have thrown away the life of a pureblooded witch. While she might be so defiant as to disobey her true summonses, still she could have learned obedience and been of use when I gained my victory. Instead, you forfeited her life by foolishly presuming that she would be persuaded. It is wasteful, but she shall have to be killed this summer. I am tempted to simply kill her now, lest she try some betrayal, but that would alienate the rest of your family, and I need the House of Black." His words were curt and crisp, and his displeasure was palpable.

The warring urges to defend her sister and to please her Master were tearing at Bellatrix's heart again, and she did not know what to do, or say.

He knew. "Do not test me, Bellatrix! Either your sister shall join us in June – which you have assured me she will not do – or she shall be killed! I shall not let you hold allegiance to a bloodtraitor and an enemy for sake of mere family. I have killed my father, and I would do it again without hesitation, for blood is nothing without loyalty. There is but one question, Bella, whether your loyalty is greater for your family or for your oath to me, and there can be only one answer."

"I will kill my sister, my Lord," Bellatrix said, and suddenly her heart was still. "If she refuses to join you, I shall kill her."

Through the darkness she thought she saw His lips curl up into a smile. "Good."