Not About Love

Unlike the door at Malkin's, which jingled pleasantly, this one let out a harsh squeak as it swung open. A greasy-looking young man behind the counter looked up at her and glared.

"Have you lost your way, Ma'am?" he asked, in what seemed like a taunting tone of voice.

Bellatrix glared back into his dark eyes. "No," she said. "You don't mind if I look around?"

The man flicked his hands away, and looked back down at the counter. Ignoring his tepid response, she began to browse the store. The unpleasant man's selection was the stuff she had read and heard of. There were implements of dubious purposes, ominous-looking torture devices and magical aides that likely had very little use for the sort of magic Bella had been taught at Hogwarts. Small vials of unicorn's blood sat behind a locked cabinet, as did hemlock and bryony, magical ingredients that were used solely in poison.

To Bella's dismay, most of the artifacts that truly interested her were far beyond even the generous budget she had received that morning. Had she not purchased the new robes, she would have nearly enough money for the ring in the window, but as it was, she could barely afford a tiny vial of the silver unicorn blood. Not that she wanted anything that required making potions.

Hidden in the corner, she saw another silver ring, this one thick and gleaming in the dim light of the shop. On first inspection, Bellatrix found it simple, stately and masculine, and wondered if it wasn't just a family heirloom that had been pawned off by a down-on-their-luck wizarding family. Behind it sat a small globe, which appeared no different than the worthless crystal balls used in her Divination classes. A small piece of parchment between the two objects caught Bella's eye however:

"Behold the Globe of Prosperina. Looking into the globe, its true owner can see the feelings of the wearer of her ring."

Bellatrix held up the ring and examined it more closely. An inscription on the inside read "For he whom I know too well." The base of the globe bore an inscription as well, though this one appeared to be in some sort of ancient language. Bella assumed the meaning was similar to that on the ring; though the letters were different, the flourishes of the script appeared near-identical.

Looking back at the parchment on the table, Bellatrix was surprised to note that the set was only eight Galleons. Counting the shiny coins in her purse, she noted she had nine Galleons, two sickles remaining. Looking at the parchment once more, to see that she'd gotten the price correct, she noticed fine print at the bottom.

"The efficacy of the Globe of Prosperina is not guaranteed. Returns are not accepted."

Bellatrix sighed, and figured it was worth the risk. There was little else of interest she could afford, unless she wanted some shackles (which she knew her mother would find highly suspicious). A ring, on the other hand, could be easily explained, and the small globe hidden in the drawer of her vanity.

Carefully lifting the two items, Bellatrix carried them to the front. The man looked condescendingly at her as she placed them on the counter.

"You can't return that if you don't like it," he explained curtly.

"Does that mean it doesn't work?" she asked, curiously.

The man grunted. "Man who brought it to me claimed it didn't. Never done anything for me, neither."

"May I?" Bella asked, gesturing towards the ring.

"Go ahead," he responded in a bored voice.

Bella placed the ring on the finger and stared at the globe. She thought its interior seemed a little mistier than it had been, but on second thought, she was probably just imagining that. All of a sudden, however, she felt a sudden jolt of curiosity. Removing the ring, she smiled at the man.

"That'll be eight Galleons," he said abruptly.

Bellatrix sighed, pulled most of the remaining money from her mother's pouch, and laid it carefully on the counter, careful not to give any indication that she thought the items really did work and were probably worth far more than the eight Galleons he was charging her for what he thought to be a pair of useless trinkets. The man's hand leaped up to grab it, and he placed a crumpled paper bag in its place. Bella almost laughed at the condition of the bag he'd given her.

"Don't laugh," he snorted. "It's got an unbreakable charm."

"Right then," said Bellatrix, as amiably as she could. She placed the globe and ring inside the bag and left the store. Reaching the street, she cast her own unbreakable charm on the bag, just to be sure.

__

When she returned home, Bella was sure to show off her new robes to her mother, while keeping Prosperina's Globe well hidden. Having vanished the price labels from the robes before showing them to her mother, Mrs. Black had no suspicion that her daughter had bought herself anything but pretty garments.

Upstairs, the clothing stashed in her closet, Bellatrix carefully unwrapped the weary paper bag and placed the globe in the top drawer of her vanity. Rifling through that drawer, she found several pieces of jewelry her mother had bought her as a child, and, finally, a black velvet ring box. The ring inside was a small gold one, with a tiny pearl set alone along the top. Her father had given it to her at her fifth birthday, she vaguely remembered. Discarding the ring into the cluttered back of the drawer, Bellatrix placed the new silver one into the box, and replaced it.

The earlier determination she had felt dissipated over the next weeks, as she heard very little from Lucius, and even more disappointingly, received no word from the Dark Lord. Her parents continued on making inquiries into their relationship, and Bella found it useful to take one or two evenings to herself each week, letting them think that she was instead with Lucius. Despite her parents' expectations, there was no relationship, and Bella was surprised at how little this bothered her.

Mid-autumn, the weather was just turning from briskly cool to biting, and Bella dressed in her heavy woolen robes, once again telling her parents she was going out. When they asked who would be joining her, she gave them the practiced smile and wink they took to mean exactly what they wanted. They so wanted to think one thing and Bella found it a simple task to fool them.

The front gates of her childhood home swung closed behind her, and Bella found herself along the same cobblestone where she had sat as a child, watching the other neighborhood children as they engaged in their games. Sometimes Andromeda would come and sit next to her, sharing the elaborate personalities and stories she had concocted for her dolls. On rare occasions, Bellatrix would join the other children, but she usually found this even more tedious than sitting alone, imaging herself playing magical tricks on the others.

A cold wind blew through the trees, sweeping up the hem of Bella's robes. Feeling the chilling air against her cheeks, she hugged her arms around herself, deciding that it was no longer a suitable evening for a walk. It was a shame, since the night was so clear and calm, but Bella's body begged her to find somewhere indoors and heated.

There was a bar in London she knew of. Walden had often taken her there back in sixth year. They thought they were ever-so-deviant, hadn't they, back then, drinking and smoking when they were far too young. He'd always enjoyed himself greatly, or so it seemed, but Bellatrix found it quite boring. There was a satisfaction in breaking the rules, but why bother with the punishment when all they did was sit with a bunch of older men who lacked either the time or the money to drink as much as they wanted.

There was one time, though, she remembered clearly. Her master had been teaching her how to implant inklings into others' minds. It had been incredibly difficult, something she was not sure she'd ever master. Staring at a slovenly-dressed man across the bar, Bella locked her eyes with him, and concentrated on anger. Her eyelids lowered as she kept his gaze held, concentrating on keeping bitter feelings at the front of her thoughts.

Suddenly, the man had appeared by her side, arm on her shoulder, handing her a drink. Bella turned and gave him a small smile, though inside, she was quite disappointed. She hadn't expected anything, really, she hadn't. On her other side, Walden leaned forward, a truly vicious look on his face. The next thing Bellatrix knew, the strange man was flat on the floor, Walden kneeled across his torso, landing hit over hit at the man's bloody face.

Afterwards, the proprietor had taken the young couple back to his office to lecture them on proper behavior. As the door latched shut behind him, Bella pulled out her wand.

"Obliviate."

Walden stared at her, amazed, as the spell hit its target. "I'm impressed," he admitted.

"Of course you are," she responded. "Stupefy," she cast again, sitting herself on the side of the stunned man's desk. "You were great, Walden. I never knew you could fight like that." She lowered her voice. "I enjoyed it immensely." Pulling him towards, she put her lips on his, and kissed him. It was not until thirty minutes later, as she put her overcoat back on, that she revived the proprietor.

Bella concentrated as hard as she could on her memory of that bar and disapparated. She almost wondered if the owner would remember her.

The interior was much cleaner than she remembered it, the pint glasses clean, the stools filled with well-to-do wizards, and even a few witches. Bella found a seat for herself at the bar, and was surprised when a red-haired witch who looked around thirty came to take her order. Remembering the pint after pint she would drink while bored out of her mind with Walden, Bella decided to order something different. "I'll have a Scotch," she said, remembering the night in Lucius Malfoy's study.

The woman quickly disappeared and returned with her drink. The thought of a night alone in this place, warm as it was, seemed awfully dull, and Bella decided to make conversation. "This place seems different than the last time I was here."

"When was that?" the woman inquired.

"A couple of years ago," Bella responded.

"That explains it, then. I fixed it up about a year and a half ago. Put in some new lights, refinished the bar, decided to actually hire someone to clean up each night. My father, he never thought that particularly necessary. But then he up and decided to leave the business to me."

"What's he doing now," Bella asked curiously.

"He's in France, raising owls. Just woke up one morning and something had changed in him..."

"Oh," Bellatrix responded, finding herself devoid of words despite her curiosity.

"Well," the woman said abruptly, "I've got customers to handle." Leaving Bellatrix, she made her way to four middle-aged wizards at a table in the corner.

Bellatrix stared into her scotch, resigning herself to another night alone. Her mind drifted to the same topic that had occupied it for much of the past few weeks: how to leave her parents. They had made it clear on so many occasions that they thought a young woman should live with her father until a suitable husband was found.

This obsession with everything being proper and seemly made no sense to Bellatrix. Her parents were decent people, she never felt loved so much as valued for who she was, but that was fine with her. Affection always had been overrated anyhow. So were social customs, a point which she and her mother had never agreed on.

Bellatrix felt her blood rising as she thought more and more about the dead end her life seemed to be caught up in. When she had not left the house to appease her parents, she had spent most of the evening sitting by her window, waiting for a stately black owl to deposit a parchment for her. None had come. Had she done something wrong? Had the transfiguration spell failed her? At the time, she had been so certain of what she had done. She was confident that she had found herself. Yet as the weeks passed and she heard nothing, she wondered whether she'd failed her master.

When he originally told her their lessons would be ending, she assumed it was because she was ready to do more than learn. He had told her so much, she remembered. Now, she wondered whether he'd distanced himself from her altogether. She should have known enough not to trust an evil overlord. No, this couldn't be right! Bella found herself thinking desperately, taking a too-large sip of scotch and feeling the bitter liquid coat her mouth. She had done her job, taken her rightful place. Why was she being neglected?

Without Him, she had nothing. She was just another unmarried Hogwarts graduate, no plan for the future, no place for herself. Without Him, she would live with her parents until they married her off to a seemly and proper gentleman. In that life, she would never feel alive, never feel the rush of power and satisfaction that came with holding another life in her hand.

Bellatrix quickly finished her scotch and signaled to the red-haired witch for another. Gazing into the amber liquid, imagining life with a proper husband and children, she felt the weight of a hand upon her shoulder.

"Bellatrix," he addressed simply, his voice as cold as ever. Bella looked up into his gray eyes. She smiled as she tried to imagine him in the place as she had remembered it.

"Lucius Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

"I was told I could find you here."

"Told?" Nobody knew she was here, had someone been watching her? Or, she realized, perhaps someone had just known.

"We have been busy lately."

"I was not aware of anything." She knew her hurt must be showing through, and pinched herself sharply in the side in a foolish attempt to forget.

"We wanted to include you," Lucius said, coolly but with sincerity. "Things have been escalating. We're finding out where people truly stand."

"And my allegiance was doubted?"

"Yours, not at all. But some close to you. Communications have been watched, that's why He asked that I come speak with you myself."

She was not placated. "You know how to contact me."

He looked her in the eyes. "Are you aware that your father has previously been close to our cause?"

She nodded. She had known, though she now recalled that the clandestine meetings had stopped months ago.

"He's been distancing himself. There are many who, while they sympathize, are beginning to feel that our means are too extreme."

"I am not among that group," Bellatrix assured him self-righteously.

"We're quite aware. Our Master feels that you can be depended upon. You'll be heartened to hear that, in recent weeks, we've determined that while your father is distancing himself in action, he remains thoroughly loyal to our cause. It seems that many in the old guard feel that way, which, to be honest, is for the best. They are not the future, after all."

Noting that Lucius seemed to revel in informing her of current developments, Bella merely nodded once in concurrence.

"Come, Bellatrix. Changes have been made. We meet tonight."

She wasn't sure if she was bubbling over with joy or fuming with anger as she followed him out the door.