Anything that her father did always had a purpose. He would never ask a question without expecting a certain answer. He never spoke to someone unless there was something to gain. Interactions for Cygnus Black were opportunities. The moment the Dark Lordâs name left her fatherâs lips, Bellatrix was suspicious. Sheâd kept her loyalty under the covers for years now, ever since she pledged herself to the cause. Itâd been days since the engagement announcement, her fate falling in the hands of Rodolphus Lestrange. Bellatrix had recoiled into herself, she grown to expect more. That she didnât need a marriage, that she herself was enough to lead the family. Bella may have a pureblooded woman, but she thought her father saw her as more than that. After all, she was his chosen heir. Not Sirius, not Rodolphus. Bellatrix. In a cruel twist of fate, one of her closest childhood friends became her captor⌠and not the one of her choice. Bellatrix had her eyes on another boy, but her youngest sister had been the lucky winner of that hand. With nowhere else to turn, and desperation clawing at her skin, she needed somewhere to go. Anywhere. Even for a day. Bellatrix had disappeared without a word, apparating despite being underage to a nearby village.
48 hours had passed before she appeared at Black Manor, with new thoughts circling in her mind. A mysterious man had invaded her dreams, whispering words of power and freedom that left behind a seed of desire. The offer struck her as an option out, a way to sever her ties with Lestrange, to prove her worth without him. It provided her with a vehicle to protect her sisters, loyalty ensuring their safety. Â She had noticed the shifting climate of their world, the persecution of muggles and muggleborns more common with each passing hour. There were inklings of a Dark Lord, an enemy that was colder and more powerful than Gellert Grindelwald. I bring war. The man had said. It was the perfect chance, and Bellatrix, the perfect candidate. Sheâd been groomed by her father to be the best, already controlling so many of her friends in Hogwarts. A cunning, pureblood with her eyes set on dominating the future. That was the type of person that would thrive and survive the future- and she wasnât foolish enough to let such an opportunity slip her fingers. Every interaction had a purpose.
Maybe the Dark Lord had seen her potential, reaching out to her personally. Sheâd looped Lucius into her plans, already recruiting members before the dark mark graced her forearm. They would rise together, lives intertwined despite the recent events that had separated them. Yet as the brand burned into her skin, her ambition pulled her further ahead. Bellatrix was sent to do grunt work only a handful of times, her success in each mission reaching the Dark Lordâs ears. During the Death Eaterâs meetings, it was her opinion that was asked to be heard. Over the patriarchs and Knights of Walpurgis. Slowly but surely, they would see each other privately, the Dark Lord serving as a mentor like her father. Each lesson pushed her, but she did not break. Bellatrixâs training was a challenge others would have died trying to complete. When the Dark Lordâs right hand died, a lack of care and skill causing the death, the position was handed to her on a golden platter. And now, Bellatrix was the Dark Lordâs most valuable asset. The unspeakable things that she had done hidden far away from her family. A heavy secret that she had bore with grace.
She watched as her father walked towards the office doors, tension simmering between the two. A soft click set the lock in place. Unusual. Their previous conversation had been closed, and normally, Bellatrix could let out a breath of relief. However, now the stakes were higher. They were no longer discussing her mistakes, but her secrecy. Sheâd not let one word of her allegiances slip. That would only putting the knowing party in danger, and with the atmosphere at Hogwarts, aurors were looking for anyone to answer for the crimes perpetrated. She knew that her father wouldnât leave the subject at that. No. There was something more to his inquiry. She straightened up, her fingers pulling at the bandage that adore her arm. A remnant of her mistake with Bones. A silencing charm enclosed the space, still not one word coming from her father. Sheâd seen him use this tactic before, on the members of Wizengamot. Each time, horror bubbled in the employees, who awaited either a reprimanding or crucifixion. Finally he turned, eyes boring into her skin. She could feel his presence right by the chair, magnetic, powerful. âBellatrix. Give me your arm.â
Before she had time to react, her body was pulled out of the chair. Bellatrix looked up at her father, a shot of fear running across her face. She felt small in comparison, the infamous Cygnus Black deciding her fate for her yet again. The fabric of her sleeve gruffly brushed against her skin. There were layers of magic keeping the dark mark private, but they wouldnât be enough if her father wanted the truth. Her features hardened as she watched him reach for his wand, pressing it into the charms. One by one, spells were peeled back and the dark mark came into fruition. It was just as prominent as it had been the first time she got it. The snake recoiled against the skulls, viscous. Had this been the answer Cygnus wanted?
Instead of averting his gaze, she lifted her face. If Bellatrix had been found out by her father, she would not take it lying down. Dark brown met dark brown. She was one of the most dangerous witches, no stranger to death. Whatever expectations had been placed on Bellatrix, she had defied a tenfold. Her fatherâs heir, the Dark Lordâs prodigy. âSince the truth would put the family in danger.â All of her choices did bubble down to the well being of the Blacks. Sheâd been raised to do everything for blood. Killing for blood, hurting people so that her sisters, mother and father wouldnât have to. If the Dark Lord succeeded in the war, the Blacks would be rewarded beyond their wildest dreams. And, their legacy would live for ages to come. Most importantly, they would be utterly untouchable. More so than they already were. Right now, though, such allegiances would lead the ministry on a witch hunt. Sheâd sealed her lips and mind for them.Â
So her father had known all along⌠but did he really understand what she meant to the cause? Bellatrix leveled her gaze, the words dancing on the tip of her tongue. âWhat have you heard about the Dark Lord, father?â She repeated the same question asked to her. Was he aware of her position- the highest ranked Death Eater, a wanted murderer. She didnât believe so.
Cygnus had heard rumors for some time of the Dark Lordâs terrifying general. Oh, the rumors were kept under wraps, but even the most tightly kept secrets had a way of making themselves known to Cygnus. The rumors said that the general was a woman, a woman of youth, one who had defied all expectation. One who defied all convention. The rumors were interesting, of course, but he had not really concerned himself with them. Should they become important later, he would look into them, but for now, there were more pressing things on his plate than any generals. He had not thought of this general in some time, so focused had he been on his daughters, and the family affairs. Rightfully so, of course, as the family affairs were his blood borne duty. But as he watched the unblemished, pale skin of Bellatrixâs forearm slowly become marred with the brand of the Dark Lord, he thought of these rumors again.
At first, he wanted to believe that it was a long shot. How likely was it that Bellatrix had risen through the ranks without ever informing him? His first thought was unlikely. However, the fact that she had enlisted in the ranks at all without him ever hearing a peep was telling. He would have to reconsider some things about the nature of his daughter, and of their relationship together. He had known this day would come, the day that her interests became her own. He had faith in her know, and he didnât doubt that her personal interests lined up with the familyâs, but Bellatrix was truly coming into her own, wasnât she? If she was willing to join the Dark Lordâs army without so much as a discussion with him, then was it certainly so far fetched that she had risen to stand by his side? After all, he had raised her to be a warrior. Bellatrix was strong, strong enough to take the world by the horns if she so chose. Could she really have already begun to do so?
Yes, she could have. Cygnus had been loathed to admit it, but he supposed it had been his own doing that might have pushed Bellatrix to begin to do things on her own without his guidance. He had seen her face when he had informed her of her betrothal to Rodolphus Lestrange. He had known that she must have felt betrayed, and while he understood why, he wished that she could look past her feelings to see why he had done such a thing. If Cygnus had learned anything, it was that moving through life was a lot smoother, a lot less lonely and cold, if one had an adequate partner by their side. He had been blessed with Druella from an early age, and grown up knowing that she would be the woman by his side. Perhaps that had given them an advantage over their peers, having the lifelong engagement. He could remember sitting next to her at tea, at the tender age of seven, mulling over the idea that one day, far far away, she would become his wife, and he her husband. They had always felt like one because of it, and when the wedding day had happened, it had seemed like the long awaited period, the bit of punctuation to a sentence that his finished a long time ago.Â
Cygnus had accomplished great things in his life, but he would not have found it as easy and manageable without his wife by his side. He wanted the same thing for Bellatrix, and he could see the possibilities with Rodolphus. She had wanted Lucius, that much was obvious. The pair of them had been close since children, but Lucius was not the right choice for her. Lucius Malfoy came from an important family, and he could see that Lucius took the mantle of heir seriously. He would be a fine patriarch in his own right, but he was not the wizard Bellatrix was meant to stand beside. Cygnus felt that Lucius lacked the strength to keep up with Bellatrix. He had molded her himself, and turned her into something spectacular. Lucius would fall short, and that would bring anxiety and harm upon them both. Lucius was much, much better suited for Narcissa. It was obvious, looking at the pair of them. They would push and challenge each other in ways that were compatible. The children might not see it now, but a union between Lucius and Narcissa would bring harmony for them both. He believed the same to be true of Rodolphus and Bellatrix.
Rodolphus would help Bellatrix to greatness, while still allowing her to stand one step ahead of him. That was a rare find in a man like Rodolphus. A strong man, heir to a great family. Cygnus had known many like him, himself included, but many of these strong, well-bred men, would expect something from their wives that he knew Bellatrix could not give. He thought of his friend, Adrastos Carrow. He was strong in his own right, terrifying even, but his refusal to look at the strengths he could garner from the women around him would most surely be his downfall one day. Rodolphus would not make that mistake, Cygnus was sure of it. Rodolphus would see the power in Bellatrix, the almost laughably easy way to power would be in her wake. Bellatrix couldnât see that. She viewed this as a betrayal, or Cygnus believing she wasnât fit to be heir. Whether or not she believed him, Bellatrix was his heir. His successor in everything but name. Unfortunately, even he could not pass the title of patriarch onto her. That was not the way the world worked. But couldnât she see that he had given her everything that he could? He had given her the tools to make her own future despite the restrictions placed on her for being a woman. Bellatrix was smart, but she had been woefully obtuse in regards to her betrothal.
Cygnus stared down hard into Bellatrixâs eyes, his own gaze flashing dangerously at the tone in her voice. âThe truth is the truth regardless of who knows, Bellatrix. You keeping this from me does not change the truth, it only makes it harder for me to save this family should this had come to light.â Rather than let go of Bellatrixâs arms, he held on tighter, using his fingers to trace against the marking. He felt something like pride begin to prickle in his chest. Again, he did not know if these rumors referred to her, but he had always been intuitive and he was willing to place a few galleons on that being the case. If this were true... then Bellatrix had surpassed his expectations. He wanted to shake his head. Of course she had. His daughter was a ruthless monster when she needed to be, just as he had taught her.Â
Of course, before he truly allowed himself to be proud, he would have to first confirm his suspicions. What have you heard about the Dark Lord, father? Cygnus smiled. He dropped her arm, and then stepped back. His cigar was on the ground, and he used his still unsheathed wand to conjure it back into his outstretched hand. Another quick flick and the end was lit again. The smell of smoke began to rise through the room. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, before leveling Bellatrix with another look. âNot as much as you, clearly.â There was no anger in his voice, but rather, amusement. His daughter was one of the Dark Lordâs servants. This had changed everything, and the wheels in his brain began to spin at break neck speed. Oh, this was good. This could be what changes the world, the world where men like Cygnus Black could rightfully rule without push back from their inferiors. âHowever, I have heard things.â He stepped back further, and moved back around to his side of the desk. Without another word, he sat back down into his seat, and then reached for his glass of wine. No doubt, he would need a refill. He flicked his wand, and the bottle began to top his glass off. He flicked his wand again, and it set itself back on the desk. âI hear of someone who is colloquially referred to as the general. A woman, they say. Itâs quite scandalizing, really.â He picked up the glass, smiling slightly again. Really, if his suspicions were correct he would be quite proud. âWhat do you have to say about that?â