Only dust moves, set in motion eons ago.

Long had the night fallen, and the hustling wind made thick airflows whistle inside the corridors of the manor, torches' lights dimmed and grew along the stone walls. In the hall, the dark sillouette of a woman entered through the doors, closing them soon afterwards. She slid along the marble floor and up the grand staircase, longing to attend the call of her master.

As she passed near the light, her face could be seen, her pale skin, dark eyes, hollow cheeks and slightly puckered lips – she should have been once a beautiful woman, but it seemed that long years of unspeakable darkness has traded the lively glow for some sort of shadow.

Reaching the end of the largest corridor, she knocked on the door.

"Enter" the voice was commanding.

Obeying, she did so, already kneeling, for her devotion had to be shown through her body.

"My lord" she said, soothingly, purring, as if the words tasted nicely on her tongue.

He stood still, his back turned to her, the hearth sending a warm light upon his figure – slim and straight. He cocked his head to the side, but she didn't feel his gaze upon her as his voice kept on.

"Bellatrix" , after that quick acknowledgement of the witch by his feet, he continued "I am glad my presence in this house doesn't seem to bother you."

"No, my lord!" she cried, glancing up at him with glimmering eyes, "It's an honour, an honour indeed!"

"Ah, but that wasn't the reaction when I was obliged to stay at the house of... others." the wizard added, an evll grin creeping up his face. He heard Bellatrix shriek with anger,

"They are not worthy of your presence, my lord! Lucius and my sister were always full of cowardice." she crawled, kissing the hem of his robes, "In the otherhand, I am honoured of having the mightiest wizard of all time under my very roof, my lord!"

"I know that, Bellatrix..." he seemed satisfied with his own malice, "You have always been the most faithful of my followers."

She made some unintelligible sound of pleasure.

"But still, I was very displeased today – you know why is that?"

For the first time since she entered the room, Bellatrix looked hesitant, dropping her head down and scratching slightly her nails on the floor.

"No, my lord." she whispered.

"Well, I've learned you hide things from me, Bellatrix." his tone had changed. It was now less sibilant, though the fake velvetness of his voice turned it into something much more dangerous.

"No, my lord! Never!" she exclaimed.

"No? Then you wouldn't mind if I were to keep this, would you?" he held up, so Bellatrix could see, a silver chain, incredibly thin, which sustained a delicate locket. It was of a deep silver-grey, darkened by time, and beautifully crafted – leaves and branches and the tiniest roses – it all surrounded a small ruby which's opacity could also be related to it's age. "Would you, Bellatrix?"

At the sight of it, the witch lost her composture, trembling violently.

"N-no, my lord." she barely whispered "But there's nothing there, my lord, nothing important."

"Is it true, my dear Bellatrix?" Voldemort turned to her fully, glancing down, with his glazing eyes, to the shivering woman at his feet "Then you won't mind me opening it, right?"

She whimpered again, grasping the hem of his clothing.

"Please, lord, please don't." the brunnete's voice cracked and the despair was easily noticed "I swear, it's nothing that would matter to you, my lord, please, don't!"

The wizard seemed to gain pleasure as he noticed the way her voice reached higher notes as she went more and more scared – but anger slowly appeared on his traces as his favourite Death Eater tried to hide something , to betray him. With one fierceful movement of his wand, he threw her across the room, watching her body banged against the wall and fell on the floor, holding a cry.

Being such a Legilimens, Lord Voldemort could easily tell she was afraid. Bellatrix feared the opening of the locket more than she feared his rage for what seemed a very unloyal behaviour, and she crawled, asking for him to have mercy, for him not to open it, the containings of it were useless to him.

"Stop!"

No matter the depth of her nervousness, Bellatrix Lestrange could never quit obeying direct orders from her master. So she gasped, coughed and held a sob, but stayed still, staring at him with silent eyes.

"Now, Bellatix... I believe you have said many times you would do anything I asked?"

When she opened her mouth to speak, Voldemort hissed, and her jaw closed immediatly, though a small opening between her lips made it quite clear it was done with very much effort. Then, the witch nodded.

"I believe you said you'd devote your life to me?"

Seemingly at the edge of herself, she nodded once again.

"I believe you despised all traitors and all those who fail me?"

With a sickening sob, she crawled near him, nodding enthusiastically.

"Then, I shall open the locket and you shall not say a word!" he demanded, swiftly throwing her aside again, though less forceful this time. He walked towards the room, closing the doors with an ample movement of his arms. The hearth was now the only light in the room, and the brunette thought it grew paler and paler as her master approached her again, the said object glittering slightly against his excessively pale skin.

With a gesture both magnificent and dramatic, he fidgeted a bit to open it – quite an easy task, for it didn't seem to be very well-worn.

It was empty. The slightly rusty metal inside it was only as trite as the ouside: no picture, no paper, nothing ever seemed to have been there. Voldemort thought he was being played fool, hissing angry and glaring to his servant, who had remained still, eyes glued to the wizard.

But any thought of punishment was swept off his mind as he saw her eyes turn bigger and bigger and ever so scared that her pupils disappeared in the bottom of her brown iris. She whimpered, creeping away from him – no, it wasn't from him, Bellatrix had never tried to dodge her punishments.

"It's coming, it's coming!" she cried again, clutching her skinny hands into eachother. "Behind you, my lord! They are all coming!"

Voldemort turned around, doubting the sanity of his follower, who now made stifled noises, to find himself standing in front of pure darkness. It covered both of them quite fast – that thick, heavy mist of darkness.

He felt Bellatrix's hands grasp his clothes, hearing her startled breath as her body seemed to crumble to the ground once again, despite the lack of sound as it hit a surface. Not at least impressed with her useless behaviour, the man – for he was somewhat still a man – got hold of her hair and pulled her up, hissing threatningly:

"What was that you stored in this locket, Lestrange?"
There were many answers to expect, many to refuse and many to doubt – yet she used one that astounded them.

Because in between her whimpers and cries, she managed to say, clearly:

"Memories, my lord."

Do not own HP-universe/Bellatrix/Voldemort, these are all property of J.K. Rowling.

First attempt at a multichapter Bellamort fanfic – I simply love this pairing! Will be updating soon, since I've already many ideas popping around (: Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language... Reviews are appreciated (and do tell me if there are any problems with the characters, I've been trying my Best for them not to become OOC).

Thanks,

Joana

PS: Title of the chapter from the song "Only Dust Moves..." of Thy Serpent