Measure These Things

Tom Riddle has no memory of his mother. He knows only three things about her; her name (Tanith Marvolo), her House (Slytherin, of course) and what she looked like (his black hair and blue-gray eyes, pale skin and long fingers). He knows the first fact from his birth certificate; the piece of paper he lit up with a spell three years before his Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived. The House was a natural progression, due to their lineage and Julien Malfoy had informed him of his mother's former House immediately after Tom's own Sorting. The third fact he knows from the library, from the old Hogwarts yearbooks that dated back centuries.

That was why, when years later, he is surprised.

Hogsmeade is snow-covered and Christmas is fast approaching. Students from third year and up are running to and fro in the rapidly increasing drifts, doing last minute shopping and ducking into the Three Broomsticks for Butterbeer to warm up.

No longer Tom Riddle, now Lord Voldemort, yet with the utterly human features that he was beginning to abhor. He sits in the Hog's Head, cleaner now then it will be in years. It's run by someone he knows; Marcus Avery is the bartender and allows VoldemortTom to drink whatever he wants, even though Avery secretly suspects that VoldemortTom is merely a wayward student from the school. But Avery is frightened of VoldemortTom and thereby keeps his mouth shut.

The door opens and snow whirls in. It settles on VoldemortTom's hair and he shakes it off, eyes watching who enters over the rim of his glass. Two girls from the school, holding shopping bags. One is blonde, with peaches and cream skin and bundled up in winter finery, fur-lined robes and carrying several packages. The other girl is dark-haired, pale, almond-eyed and she's merely in her school uniform, ignoring the cold on her legs and her long-fingered hands.

VoldemortTom is surprised now. He watches as the girls sit down near the bar, something that two girls would normally not do. But the crest on the black haired girl's robes reveals her Slytherin ties and she's not afraid to be in the Hog's Head.

Tanith Marvolo's image from the one yearbook flashes in VoldemortTom's head and he looks at the black haired girl with memory-tinted eyes. VoldemortTom rises, leaving his glass half-finished and he walks over to the girls.

"Did you see the look on the Mudblood's face when the snowballs hit her?" the blonde is snickering, gesticulating with a bottle as her aid.

"I warned Evans that if she didn't keep her nose out of where it didn't belong," the black haired girl says coolly. She isn't drinking anything and her attention is caught by VoldemortTom, who is standing behind the blonde.

"Bella - huh?" the blonde turns, eyes widening as she sees the man behind her. VoldemortTom knows what the girls see; a tall male, looking to be in his mid-twenties (one of the enchantments had seemed to slow his outward aging appearance) with dark hair, reddish eyes, pale skin and a sharp mouth. From the blonde girl, he knows who these two are. The black haired one is Bellatrix Black and the blonde her sister, Narcissa, who is engaged to Julien's son, Lucius Malfoy.

Bellatrix looks at him shrewdly. "Hello," she says.

"Hello, Bellatrix Black," VoldemortTom says softly, stepping between the Black sisters. Narcissa falls silent and pouts behind him, feeling left out.

"Who are you?" Bellatrix asks quizzically.

"I am Lord Voldemort," VoldemortTom smiles, not a pleasant smile. Bellatrix feels a chill run up her spine as she meets his red gaze.

Bellatrix is drunk now, not on wine, but on power and blood. There is blood on her hands and an exhilarating thrill of adrenaline running through her body. The Muggles screaming is echoing in her mind, loud and shrill and ohGodsit'swonderful.

She realizes now that she's laughing, laughing as she wipes at her face and more blood comes off of it. Vaguely, she realizes that her new dress robes are ruined; bloodstained and such. A fleeting, vain thought that is gone quickly.

Glassy eyes stare up at her and she gently prods one of the dead Muggles with her foot. The dead Muggle girl rolls over, blood continuing to ooze out of the corpse.

Hands grab her own and yank her forward. In the dark, Bellatrix still laughs.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" VoldemortTom whispers as she tilts her head to the side, smiling. She nods.

VoldemortTom kisses her and she falls back into the pattern. Oedipus would be suited to this, kissing the girl who looks like his mother and pulling the blood-drenched clothing off of her.

But even Oedipus would draw the line at fucking the girl who looks like his mother against the wall of the house where she had just killed the owners. Especially when the owners were still lying on the ground, an audience of porcelain-doll-like glassy eyes.

Bellatrix Black, now Bellatrix Lestrange is not loyal to her husband. There is only loyalty to one; to the Dark Lord and Rodolphus does not care.