Cover - Bellatrix & Voldemort

4.

(A/N I decided to mess up the timeline a little, so it would fit better to my story, so here are a few changes:
- The Marauders (and everyone who went to school with them) are born in 1956, instead of 1959. They're currently (1975) 18-19 years old.
- Which means, that Severus Snape is already a Death Eater and Sirius has ran away from his family already.
- Voldemort is born in 1932, so that his and Bella's age gap isn't so huge.
- But remember, that even though they still have a lot of years inbetween them (because otherwise Cygnus would be far too young to have three daughters), they're both adults.
That's it!)

12 March 1975 (three hours ago)

Bellatrix hadn't seen Voldemort in two weeks, not at all after they had spent time together at his manor after the funeral, and for some reason, he had quickly sent her out after a few hours and seemed somewhat angry at her. But surely she hadn't done anything wrong, right? Narcissa was slowly recovering from the death of their mother, but same couldn't be said of Cygnus. He had been dragged to St. Mungos' mental health department after he had tried to seduce ten teenage girls. At once. The Dark Lord hadn't held a meeting, he hadn't visited the ball Walburga Black held last weekend and he hadn't even once summoned her. At the moment, Bellatrix was at the Lestrange manor's, her home's, front door. She had been out to first visit her sister and then take down a village, which had both been a success. She unlocked the locks with her self-made spell and then closed the door and put on the barriers again. Bellatrix sighed and threw her cloak on the floor, close to the wall and wiped off the snow from her dress. It was late, and the sun had set hours ago.
"Where were you?"
Bellatrix lifted her gaze to her husband, who appeared to the doorway from somewhere in the house. She tucked her wand into her robes and sighed.
"I was out."
"Doing what?"
Bellatrix's eyebrow rose and a questioning look appeared to her face.
"Why are you asking so much, Rodolphus?"
Rodolphus took two steps closer to her, and looked like he normally did, only that he was squeezing his fist and he moved a little slower.
"Are you cheating on me?"
Bellatrix looked like someone hit her with a mallet, Rodolphus took a step forward and Bellatrix's hand searched for her wand.
"What the hell, Rodolphus? I am not -"
Bellatrix wasn't fast enough as Rodolphus pressed her roughly against a wall.
"Stop, Rodolphus. Stop - "
"Be quiet, you whore, I am taking what's mine!"
"Let me go!"

One of his hands was choking her and another was opening her corset.

12 March 1975 (1 hour ago)

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were getting ready to go to sleep and while waiting for their house elves to prepare them some light dinner, they were sitting in their library. Narcissa was reading and Lucius was watching his wife.
"Did you hear that?"
Narcissa lifted her gaze to Lucius' eyes, and was surprised to find him looking at her. But she was more worried about the sound she heard from the front door.
"It's surely nothing, Cissy. It's just the rain, don't worry."
Narcissa was about to continue reading, but then she heard it again. And Lucius heard it too.
"Someone is knocking on the front door, Lucius."
"Who would visit us at this time?"
Narcissa and Lucius both felt a piece rise up their throath, and Narcissa was the first to speak:
"It can't be aurors, right?"
"I - Let's not thing about that."
Lucius rose from his chair and started walking out of the room to the front door, and Narcissa was quickly following him. They reached the huge, wooden door, and Lucius carefully and slowly opened the magical locks. They heard the massive rain outside and the sky was fully dark - who would want to be outside in that weather? Lucius pressed the doorknob down and let the door slide open, not wanting to wet his arm. Narcissa was hardly struggling to not to gasp and Lucius' mouth fell open, when Bellatrix stood in front of them, her hair messy, clothes like she put them on in a second and all kinds of marks on her neck and hands. It wasn't the confident and arrogant woman they usually met - she looked vulnerable, dolorous and almost pitiful. Her voice was weak and barely above a whisper when she spoke, and it sounded like she had been crying;
"Can I come in?"