Obsession

Chapter 3

"The disappearance of Oliver Prewett marks the second Ministry employee to go missing in less than a week. Though those loyal to the so-called Lord Voldemort are highly suspected, the Ministry has confirmed that there is not sufficient proof to make any arrests at the present time."

Voldemort set down the newspaper and smirked. There were more than a dozen gathered today, and he turned his head to Yaxley as he asked smoothly,

"Yaxley, what happens when Ministry employees disappear without any answers as to where they've gone?"

"People get frightened, My Lord," Yaxley answered with a little smile. Voldemort nodded.

"Mulciber. What happens when people are frightened?"

"They are more willing to shift allegiances, Master," Mulciber confirmed. Voldemort sighed happily.

"Abraxas Malfoy, Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange. Avery, Mulciber, and Yaxley. I want the six of you to choose a Muggle village, somewhere remote, and completely destroy it. We need more mysterious deaths, more unanswered questions. We can't afford all-out war. Not yet. But we want them to be frightened of us. Malfoy, coordinate the attack and have it carried out within the next two weeks."

"Yes, My Lord," Malfoy nodded. Voldemort folded his copy of the Daily Prophet and said neatly,

"That will be all. Dismissed." He watched as his lackeys stood and bowed their heads, murmuring to one another as they filed out of the meeting room. As Bellatrix rose and walked beside her husband, Voldemort cleared his throat. "Madam Lestrange. A word, if you please. Rodolphus, go coordinate with Malfoy."

"Yes, My Lord." Rodolphus nodded and squeezed Bellatrix's hand before going. Voldemort pulled the heavy, wood-paneled door shut after he'd gone, and Bellatrix stayed at the other end of the long table. From where he sat, Voldemort beckoned with one finger. Bellatrix seemed very frightened then as she slowly approached him. Voldemort rolled his wand back and forth a little on the wooden surface of the table, and then he drummed his fingers as he informed her,

"It's been three days, and I've done nothing about it."

Bellatrix said nothing. She knew what he meant. If he was going to Obliviate or kill her because of the kiss they'd shared, he'd have done it by now. Voldemort stared at his wand, dragging his fingers down its length as he reminded her,

"I was very drunk."

"Yes, My Lord."

Voldemort picked up his wand and brushed his thumb along the wood as he said, "It was a stupid mistake, that's all."

There was a pause, and then she said again,

"Yes, My Lord."

"Bella, stop." Voldemort slammed his wand down and glared up at her. Bellatrix seemed awfully confused, and more than a little afraid, so Voldemort flew to his feet and towered over her. She looked terrified now, shaking beneath him as she whispered,

"P-please, Master, I didn't -"

"Stop," he said again. She shrugged, her eyes welling.

"Stop what?"

He didn't have a good answer for that. Stop being so damned attractive? Stop making him want her? He'd wanted her more with every passing day since New Year's. Now he found himself stepping closer to her, backing her up against the wall and bracing his arms on either side of her.

"You're married," he said, just like he'd done the night he'd kissed her, "but it doesn't matter, does it? I'm Lord Voldemort; I can have whatever I want."