Obsession

Chapter 11

Lord Voldemort held up a copy of the Daily Prophet and showed it to the assembled group before him.

"Yesterday's headline," he said, a little smile dancing on his lips. "FLOREAN FORTESCUE - PORTRAIT OF THE ICE CREAM KING."

Bellatrix joined the other Death Eaters in chuckling at the Dark Lord's words. He happily set down the newspaper and picked up a different one.

"Today's headline," he said, pausing for a dramatic moment and cocking up an eyebrow. "BELOVED MINISTRY EMPLOYEE MISSING - THE WORST IS FEARED FOR WILLOW FREIGHTMAN."

Everyone smiled more broadly than ever, and Voldemort tipped his head as he turned his face to Bellatrix.

"Bella," he said, his voice silk in the air, making her shiver. "Do tell."

Bellatrix tipped her chin up a little and nodded. "Yes, My Lord. I went to Yorkshire in the middle of the night and snuck silently into the witch's cottage. I managed to ambush her whilst she was still asleep. I killed her in her bed and Vanished the corpse. I left her front door ajar; I think her cat escaped."

A little rumble of laughter went around the table, and Voldemort seemed very pleased as he said quietly,

"That was very well done, Bellatrix. Very well done, indeed. And you shall be rewarded."

Her lips parted little then. She knew what he meant, even if the others didn't. She'd be given kisses; she'd be touched and more to reward her for her service. Voldemort stared hard at her for a moment, and Bellatrix was distantly aware of the way the others were observing the silent exchange. Finally, Voldemort snapped his face to the rest of the table, and he noted,

"Enid Nott has passed away from dragon pox. Mulciber, she was your mother-in-law. Nott, she was your aunt. You both have my condolences. I would like everyone here to be at the funeral tomorrow. Am I understood?"

There were murmurs of yes, My Lord around the table. Voldemort dismissed everyone, and just before he left the room, Rodolphus gave Bellatrix a small smile and a wave. Her stomach pulled a little. These last three weeks, Rodolphus had spent half his nights in a separate bedroom at Castle Lestrange and half his nights at Edwina Fawley's flat in London. But he was friendly toward Bellatrix, and she would never complain aloud about the workaround she and the Dark Lord had agreed upon.

She lingered in the meeting room without permission. Once everyone had gone, she drummed her fingers on the table and asked simply,

"Have I made you proud, My Lord?"

He nodded. "Oh, yes, Bellatrix. I am very proud. That witch disappeared into thin air. They've no proof it was us. They may all think it was, know it was, but you've injected fresh fear into them. You have served me perfectly. And I meant what I said about a reward."

She smiled a little, but she was surprised to see him reach into his outer robe and pull something out from a pocket inside. It was silver and glinting, and when he held his fingers up, a little pendant fell from a silver chain. It was a round emerald, surrounded by little shimmering diamonds. Bellatrix gasped. Voldemort rose slowly and said,

"A token of appreciation... from your master."

She panted a little as he stood behind her, pulled her curls over one shoulder, and fastened the clasp of the necklace. She was dizzy as she touched at the pendant and whispered,

"I'm not worthy of it."

"I have decided that you are," he said rather firmly. "Stand up, Bella."

She did, so quickly that her head spun. She turned to face him, and he planted a little kiss on her cheekbone as he said,

"That was very good work in Yorkshire, Bellatrix. What a very fine soldier you are. I shall see you at the funeral tomorrow."