Obsession

Chapter 18

Bellatrix curled her lips up where she stood on the beach, the black stones smooth beneath her bare feet. She'd worn a black minidress despite the chill, and she stood where the rolling waves reached just high enough on their path to kiss her ankles. The water was frigid. The sky was grey. The wind whipped madly. It felt like home, like the place she'd been meant to be born and live. It was wild, angry, dark and churning, and so it felt like a natural place for Bellatrix to be.

She eyed the sharp hills around her, grass and stone and dirt and tossed together in a rough and inhospitable way. She stared out at the horizon, at the way the sun was going down to her left. Then she heard the crunch of boots on rocks behind her, and she turned slowly as her curls were spun up by the wind.

"My Lord," she smiled, for he'd been gone almost thirty-six hours now. He had said it was very important that he go and even more important that she stay. As he towered over her now, letting his boots and the hem of his robes get wet from the waves, he tipped his head and asked,

"Did you miss me?"

"Terribly," Bellatrix nodded. He picked up her left hand and studied it carefully. He nodded with approval and said,

"It's looking very good now. Can you move them?"

Bellatrix winced as she tried to bend the freshly-grown fingers, and she shook her head. "Still need a little more time for them to work properly. But it all feels right, if you know what I mean."

"It's all growing back nicely," Voldemort agreed. Then he stared straight into Bellatrix's eyes, and she felt the same connection forge that always did when they locked gazes. He huffed out a little breath and said very matter-of-factly, "This morning, Rodolphus Lestrange gave his life for his master. He and Parnell Parkinson snuck into the Ministry of Magic with the help of Augustus Rookwood. They Transfigured their features and Imperiused their way through many layers of security. They were attempting to assassinate the Minister of Magic, you understand. Well, they were found out by Aurors, and in the ensuing skirmish, both Rodolphus and Parnell were lost. They died heroes."

Bellatrix couldn't breathe. She blinked quickly, thinking there ought to be tears of shock and horror forming, but none came. She was surprised, alarmed even, but for some reason, the sadness she knew she ought to feel didn't come. She was not overwhelmed with the grief she knew a widow ought to feel. She was completely numb as she kept her eyes on Voldemort and noted,

"You sent him on a suicide mission."

Voldemort shrugged. "It wouldn't have done for me to... slay him. To execute him. Not over this. As I said, he died a hero for the cause."

"That's very convenient for you, Master," Bellatrix whispered. Her curls were making it hard to see, so she yanked them out of the wind and quickly braided them into a thick plait, Conjuring a tie to bind it all up. She sighed and then realised she wouldn't have been able to braid without using her new fingers on her left hand. She stared at the hand and flexed her fingers, noting that she'd simply braided through the pain. She did, in fact, have mobility there.

But she ought to be thinking of Rodolphus. She ought to be thinking of the way he'd felt in bed beside her, the way he'd been so shy and rather adorable when they'd been at Hogwarts together. She ought to think of how he'd slid her wedding band on during their binding ceremony.

"You could have just dissolved the marriage," Bellatrix said, lowering her eyes to the black stones at her feet. She watched a wave come in, felt the cold water around her ankles, and added, "If you didn't want me married, Master, you could have easily unbound me from him."

"I could have, but the Dark Lord marrying a follower he divorced from another follower? That would look rather pathetic. Far better than you be widowed."