Obsession

Chapter 7

"Bella? Are you ready to go?"

Bellatrix stared into the bathroom mirror, smearing a little more Sleakeazy's onto her tightly bound hair. She'd straightened her curls entirely tonight and had yanked her hair up into a high, silky ponytail. She'd done that because she knew Lord Voldemort would be at Malfoy Manor for the small dinner party tonight to which she and Rodolphus had been invited.

She'd not seen Voldemort in two weeks, not since he'd called her a slut and a whore and had nearly killed her. She hadn't heard from him, either, for they were all meant to be lying low in the wake of Abraxas Malfoy's big mistake. This dinner party was an apology of sorts, Bellatrix knew. It was just a small group invited. It was meant to publicly put the penitent Abraxas Malfoy back into his lord's good graces.

Bellatrix had used frosted, pale pink lipstick tonight, and she'd winged black eyeliner away from her dark eyes. She wore a high necked dress of black lace with long sleeves, but it was quite short, almost scandalously short. She wore knee-high boots with lethal-looking heels and a diamond-encrusted silver cuff round one wrist.

Rodolphus came into the bathroom, for he'd not received an answer to his earlier question. He jolted to a stop in the doorway and blurted,

"Bloody hell, Bella."

"What?" she demanded, frowning at his reflection as he stepped behind her. "Do I look silly?"

Rodolphus' cheeks flushed a little. "No. You look... amazing."

Bellatrix smirked. "Good. Let's go."

"Mister Rabastan Lestrange," announced Dobby, the Malfoys' wheezy little House-Elf, from the doorway of the dining room. Rabastan came in and bowed a bit to where Voldemort sat at the head of the table. He shook hands with Abraxas and his wife Cerda, then with the Averys, and he took a seat across from Malika Shacklebolt, the dark-skinned and beautiful young witch Voldemort had invited out of sheer curiosity. Beside Malika was another pretty young woman, Edwina Fawley, the sister of the young wizard whose wedding Voldemort had attended. Rabastan Lestrange began an animated conversation with Malika, and Voldemort sniffed a little as he stared at Edwina Fawley.

She was tall and lithe and blonde, and she'd left Hogwarts just the summer before. She'd also been Imperiused by Voldemort to flirt relentlessly with Rodolphus Lestrange once he arrived. They knew one another, Voldemort thought. They'd at least been at Hogwarts at the same time. And Edwina was not Bellatrix.

"Mister and Madam Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange," called Dobby from the doorway, and Voldemort snapped his attention to watch them come in.

He scowled.

She looked almost achingly gorgeous in a dress that was asking to be hiked up so she could be bent over and fucked from behind. Her face had been painted just so. But she'd straightened her curls and yanked them into a ponytail. She'd done that to spite him; she'd done it because she knew he liked her hair wild, and she hated him right now.

He said nothing as the two of them sat. Edwina Fawley flashed Rodolphus a dazzling, white-toothed grin, and she said happily,

"Rodolphus! I used to pass you every day on my way to Divination. I was a Hufflepuff; not sure if you remember me."

"Oh, yes, Edwina." Rodolphus gave her a congenial look. "I remember you. Good to see you again."

"It's very good to see you, too." Edwina stuck her chest out a little, revealing her ample cleavage in her low-cut satin robes. Suddenly Bellatrix glared at Voldemort, and he cocked up an eyebrow at her.

She knew. She could tell that Edwina Fawley was acting out of character. Bellatrix was too intelligent for this game; she knew that Voldemort had Imperiused the young witch to flirt with her husband.