At the center of the graveyard, Bellatrix halted her pacing and pulled out a pocket watch to check the time.
Midnight.
The exact time the Dark Lord had asked her to meet him here. Anxiety and anticipation churned within her. It had been almost three months since she had heard anything from him.
She sensed a presence in the darkness a half second before she felt bony hands grip her shoulders and a familiar voice hissed in her ear,
“Bellatrix.”
If anyone else had snuck up on her like that, she would have instantly gone for her wand or perhaps her dagger. Now, she simply turned around with a smile to face the ghostly pale man who almost seemed to glow in the dark.
He leaned down and pressed his cold lips to her own, one hand tangling itself in her hair and the other sliding down to her backside. She had purposely chosen to wear a leather skirt that was just a bit too tight, which he seemed to appreciate as he caressed her curves. As they kissed, she wrapped her own arms tight around his waist, pulling him closer. After so long apart, she never wanted to let go of him again.
Unfortunately, they had to breathe at some point. When they broke apart, she saw that her lipstick was smeared across his face.
She reached up to wipe it off, a nice excuse to touch him again. It was the blood-red shade he liked so much and now that it caked her hand, it gave her the appearance of having just stabbed someone. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing because he laced his fingers through the fingers of that hand and gave it a squeeze.
Slowly, he levitated a foot or two off the ground, using the self-powered flight technique he’d invented and asked,
“Shall we?”
For the first time ever, Bellatrix hesitated. She wanted to ask why he had disappeared for so long, although she was fairly sure she already knew. It wasn’t the first time he’d shied away from their relationship. He would never say so out loud but this whole situation scared him—to learn that the wizard who had so long thought himself immune to the pangs of human emotions was capable of caring for someone after all. Every once in a while, he panicked and tried to break it off.
Sometimes, he announced this to her first, which always ended in an embarrassing amount of tears and pleading from her; other times, he simply stopped speaking to her outside of Death Eater business with no explanation. These “break-ups” could last anywhere from a day to several months, but he always came back eventually. And she always let him back in, no questions asked.
It was a vicious cycle and she tended to overlook that during the good moments because being apart from him really was unbearable. But now, a bit of anger burned in her, that he could so easily discard her heart and pick it up again whenever he pleased. Part of her wanted to tell him to leave, that she couldn’t take this anymore. Let him see how rejection felt for once!
Of course, she would never actually do that. She loved him far too much.
So, she channeled the complicated magic he had shared with her and floated up beside him.
“Let’s go,” she whispered.
It was a long flight. The cold night wind whipped against their skin and blew Bella’s hair every which-way. The Dark Lord seemed to have a hard time focusing on the sky ahead of them, his eyes continually drifting back to her face. Not that it mattered; they were so high up the only thing they had to worry about crashing into was the occasional cloud.
As they flew, Bellatrix wondered whether the swooping sensation in her stomach had more to do with the flight or the wild look of desire in her Master’s crimson eyes. Probably the latter. She was an experienced flyer.
She also wondered where exactly they were going. She and the Dark Lord had a number of hidden places scattered throughout the country that they sometimes met in but sometimes, when they felt like having a bit of extra fun, they’d pick a random Muggle house, kill the inhabitants and spend the night there. That wasn’t likely to happen tonight, though. After so long apart, she suspected the Dark Lord would want to cut right to the chase.
Eventually the air began to smell salty, and she heard the crash of waves in the distance and knew where they were headed. There was a lighthouse not far from the cave where the Dark Lord had first discovered he was a Legillimens that he had made his own and eventually shared with her. A smile crossed her face as she remembered all the happy memories they had made there. She desperately hoped they were on their way to make more and that this time, it would never end. But she could not be sure of that. When the Dark Lord was your lover, you couldn’t be sure of anything.
When they landed, he pulled her quickly inside, not pausing to admire the ocean view. In the darkness, she heard the swish of him taking off his cloak, then felt his icy fingertips on her face and heard his voice murmuring, half-gentle, half-frantic, a tone he saved exclusively for her,
“Bella….”
He leaned forward and she did something that surprised the both of them. She took a step back.
“Bella?” he said again, a question this time. There was no anger in his voice, only concern. This reluctance was most unlike her.
“I was just wondering, my Lord,” she said, voice shaking, not sure what had given her the nerve, “how long it will last this time?”
“We have all night,” he said smoothly, not understanding the question. “And a good bit of the morning, I expect.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean…how long until you call this off again?”
Stupid, stupid, stupid! she chided herself. He had come for her; had brought her here! They had been on the brink of kissing, which would have been followed by much more! Why was she provoking him; risking this chance?! Surely any amount of time together was better than none at all!
That was what she had told herself for years. And it was still mostly what she believed. But she wanted more. She wanted some certainty; she didn’t want to have to live in constant fear of losing him! The frustration of their most recent separation had refused to leave her and now it was all spilling out, whether she wanted it to or not.
The Dark Lord heaved a heavy sigh.
“I see,” he said coldly.
Bella wanted to apologize, to take it back, to leap forward and kiss him and hope that would make him forget, but she didn’t. She stood her ground.
“Bellatrix, I do hope you appreciate that our whole arrangement, this sort of…vulnerability; it isn’t easy for me.”
“And you think it’s easy for me? I didn’t ask for these feelings anymore than you did!”
“No, but you embraced them rather quickly. I warned you, at the beginning, that I cannot love.”
“I’m not asking for love.” That wasn’t entirely true, but it could be overlooked for now. “I just think maybe we should talk about the fact that you keep leaving me and then come back acting like nothing’s changed!”
There was a long, heavy silence.
Eventually the Dark Lord said,
“I thought it would hurt you further to dwell on that.”
“Since when do you care about my feelings?!”
The second she’d said it, she regretted it. Why, oh why, couldn’t she stop digging herself deeper into this hole?
Anger flashed in his eyes.
“Bellatrix, you are the only person whose feelings I care about! Do not take that lightly!”
He stepped forward, not touching her but leaning in close.
“You are not the only one who suffers when we are apart!” he said fervently. “Do you have any idea how disturbing it is when I—I, who have always been content, happy even, to be alone—realize that I can’t stop thinking about you?! Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“Yes! I do, my Lord, because I’ve been there too! It’s the same thing you do to me! And it terrifies me!”
“Then why do you continue to put up with me?”
Now it was her turn to move forward, until they were face-to-face.
“Because you are worth it, my Lord. I’m willing to endure anything for you because you…you’re….”
She wasn’t going to say she loved him. She’d already crossed too many lines tonight.
Instead, she kissed him, and he kissed her and for a while all their problems disappeared.
“It’s better like this, isn’t it?” The Dark Lord hissed in her ear. “When we’re together.”
“Yes, my Lord. These are the best moments of my life. You are everything that I…like.”
“I like you, too. More than…more than I know how to handle.”
His hands were tangled in her hair now; their foreheads pressed together.
“I don’t think I’ll ever leave you permanently, Bellatrix.”
Shock pulsed through her.
“What…what are you saying, my Lord?”
“I’m saying,” he murmured, pausing to kiss her again, “that while I cannot promise I won’t leave again, I will come back.”
He punctuated the statement with another kiss, then added,
“Every time. I cannot stay away for long.”
Bellatrix’s head spun. He had said plenty of sweet words to her before (as shocking as it would seem to outsiders), but this was the first time she could recall him giving her any sort of promise of the future.
Scrambling for clarification, hoping desperately that she had interpreted him correctly she asked,
“So, you mean…basically…we’re like…like purple and green?”
He frowned in confusion, and she inwardly cursed herself. What a stupid analogy!
“You know,” she hurried to explain, “how purple and green are the two colors that represent magic so they’re constantly popping back up in fashion no matter how many other trends rise and fall?”
Ugh, what was she saying? She and the Dark Lord had never discussed fashion before, beyond complimenting each other’s robes. Why should a wizard such as him care about something so trivial?
“They—they never go out of style,” she finished lamely. “They always come back…together…just like us.”
To her surprise, the Dark Lord smiled.
“Exactly.” He began leading her upstairs and she followed eagerly, still hardly able to believe what an unexpectedly pleasant turn this conversation had taken. “I’m green,” he mused, “as the Heir of Slytherin.” He bent down to kiss her neck, nearly sending them both toppling down the stairs. “You’re purple, given its association with royalty.”
They stumbled up a few more stairs, hands scrambling over each other’s bodies, gripping whatever they could.
“We go quite well together,” he hissed into her ear. “And we never go out of style,” he finished, his lips brushing tantalizingly against hers until she pressed him back against the wall for a proper kiss.