What if…. Someone is trying to kill Delphi?

Bellatrix sleeps alone when the Dark Lord isn’t around. She has long since grown used to being beside him, his arm draped over her waist and his breaths gentle in her hair, or the slow rise and fall of his chest lulling her deeper to sleep where she lays her cheek. She’s been alone for four nights when she feels magic pull her so abruptly from her sleep it makes the blood pumping her veins all she can hear, loud and beating in her head to the tips of her fingers, the surge of magic calling to her making her reach for her wand without hesitation. 

The magic that calls to her is innate. She feels the pull without really knowing where it is she’s going. For all that’s happening, nothing could be more important in that moment. Her daughter is a frightfully dangerous creature in her own right, but she’s barely four, her magic still unstable and she is entirely inexperienced with anyone outside the world of her parents and those they trust. They have also come in the middle of the night. 

Fury rips through Bellatrix like nothing she’s ever felt as her eyes fall onto the scene about to unfold. There is a wizard stood in her daughter’s bedroom. Bellatrix awoke the moment she felt someone come near Delphini who shouldn’t be near her, crossing the threshold of the manors. 

“Mama!”

Her magic is loud. Loud enough for the right mind to hear her hundreds of miles away. Loud enough to call him.

The wizard is quick, but Bellatrix is quicker. She slashes down on him with emerald fury and he deflects the curse by a hair, almost tripping in the process at the force of her magic. His face falters as though he didn’t expect her to be ‘mama’, though they both know he knows who he’s attempting to kill. Bellatrix’s next curse is vicious and thrown before the wizard can understand what’s happening. It sears the wizard’s fingers so agonisingly he drops his wand, yelling out in pain. She’s about to kill him when the magic in the air shifts. 

“Daddy!” The little witch cries.

The wizard stills entirely, his burnt hand raised from where he had dropped his wand. The air goes frightfully cold around them, the wizard turns frigid with terror. The wand which had clattered to the floor has burnt to ash and dust before he can so much as tear his gaze from the figure of Bellatrix Lestrange, the tip of her wand pointed to his face. A twitch at the edges of her lips tells him exactly who is stood behind him, the steadiness of a predator on the verge of sinking her teeth into her prey shining in dark grey eyes which remain fixed and unmoving on the wizard who raised a wand at her daughter.

Before he can turn, his hand comes to his forehead and his face contorts with agony. It looks as though he’s being torn apart from the inside out. Lord Voldemort watches on as the man falls to his knees, screaming out into the room silent save for Delphini’s short quick breaths and the dying out crackle of Bellatrix’s lingering magic. 

“Bella.” Lord Voldemort says with every pleasure in the world as the wizard’s screams finally go quiet and he is released from his torture, “kill.” 

The assassin opens his mouth but before he can so much as utter a word of anger — or a plea — he’s been hit with a violent jet of emerald green, slamming into his chest and dropping him backwards from where he knelt. 

All is silent in the room for a moment as Bellatrix and Voldemort meet each other’s gaze. Bellatrix is first to tear herself away in order to pull their daughter into her arms. The little witch desperately grabs onto her mother, arms wrapped tight around her shoulders, her legs clinging either side of her waist, face burying into her neck. Bellatrix hushes her gently, a soothing hand hot with the force of magic she’s used her final curse coming to her daughter’s back as Delphini’s heart beat thumps through her little body. 

“Hush, dear heart.” Bellatrix says into her daughter’s soft curls as Voldemort vanishes the body with little more than a wave of his fingers, “you’re safe.”

“Can I stay with you?” Delphini asks her mother in a mumble.

“Yes.” Lord Voldemort answers as he moves closer and Delphini reaches for him instantly. She needs her father. He obliges her without hesitation. Thank you daddy, she whispers against him and he turns his gaze to Bellatrix. They both know he was no Auror. He was an assassin. An assassin sent with direct orders — one who could only get in because someone who knew of Delphini’s existence had told someone who shouldn’t have known. 

It’s a couple of hours later into the night when Delphini is curled up in the middle of their bed finally sleeping peacefully that Bellatrix and Voldemort make their decision. They need to leave — and no one can know where they go next.

Dark Prince

— by Betty Jiang

I recently watched the Order of the Phoenix, so it's time for classic elegant Voldemort 🖤💀🖤

( @/barba1810's photo as reference 🖤)

The full moon slightly chipped

That's so me

So please

Save me and hold me tight

Just make me all right

Under the dark clouds

Wingless swans in my soul

From the fortress, a pessimist...🌕⚡💀

Some part of me must have died the first time you called me (and some part of me came alive)

Day 7 - Scandalised

Bella smiled wickedly as he extended his hand to her. Public display of anything was not something Lord Voldemort indulged in.

Yet, here he was. An outreaching hand for her to place hers into. The music lulled in between pieces, giving the dancers time to move in and out of floor.

Bella took her Master’s hand and was immediately pulled close. Too close. Far too close for propriety.

The music picked up, and Lord Voldemort led his most faithful in a waltz.

Every pair of eyes in the room scrutinised the two of them, and every single one shared in the same look.

Scandalised. Absolutely scandalised.

Bellatrix Lestrange, a married witch, looked entirely too comfortable in Lord Voldemort’s arms.

And she made a point of looking everyone square in the eye with the exact same smile, over the shoulder of her Master.

Also on AO3

I may have missed Father’s Day by a mile, but it’s never too late to appreciate @metalomagnetic’s Voldemort and his questionable parenting skills!

What if Bellatrix realized Narcissa’s betrayal to Voldy?

"Master." She hisses like a cat, clutching for purchase at his arm. He whirls on her, a dangerous look in his pitiless scarlet eyes, "what, Bella?"

She doesn't startle, not today, not now. His shell has cracked, there's nothing left of him and he faces mortality once more, she knows it without him saying a word. All that is left is his madness but still she loves him. 

She utters the two words that will orphan her, "She's lying."

Death Eaters are filing into the clearing now, the Dark Lord and his right hand some distance ahead. They all stop in deathly silence as they watch Voldemort look down at Bellatrix, none of them able to hear their hushed tones and none daring to listen in.

"The boy," Bellatrix continues quietly, her wand tight in her hand as she studies the face of her Lord and Master, "he's still alive. Narcissa lied to you."

His reaction is instantaneous, for what cause would Bellatrix have to say such a thing unless it were true? To see her own sister and last living relative suffer the fate of death for this treason against him? His arm thrusts out towards Hagrid and beckons, “bring the boy here.” Hagrid hesitates long enough that Voldemort snaps like a great vicious blood-thirsty serpent, “NOW!” The single word is enough to startle the half-giant as his voice echoes through the forests, and he stumbles forward, still wrapped in ropes and chains.

Narcissa stills in Bellatrix’s peripheral vision, and she can see her clutch at Lucius desperately as though she knows she’s been caught. Voldemort whips his wand and the boy comes tumbling from Hagrid’s arms to the forest floor. Silently, red ensnares Harry Potter. The boy can’t hold out, his rouse is up. He screams in agony and Death Eaters all gasp. Narcissa’s blue eyes are wide in terror, but Voldemort raises his other hand and forces her to stillness while keeping his curse on the boy. Hisses are heard all around, Death Eaters in their masses turning their faces to Narcissa Malfoy in their anger as they realise her deception. Hagrid's shock is silenced. Lucius idles and then tries to plead, no words come out. Instead, Lord Voldemort hisses, “Liar.”  He relinquishes his curse but his fury wakes the skies above, and his magic crackles around him. He slams his foot down onto the boy's chest to put a stop to his writhing and is met with the same defiant green he saw in Lily Potter. He laughs. She died too. He drags his wand slowly across the boy's throat. He cuts into him and a line of red appears before blood bubbles up and the boy is choking on it. Lord Voldemort watches, his gaze unmoving as Harry Potter dies beneath his foot, spluttering blood until he chokes on it, inhaling it and filling his lungs. Worthless. His breaths stop beneath Lord Voldemort, and a rush he hadn't felt before settles to his bones. The prophecy has been fulfilled. “Bella.” He says with surprising softness and calm as he steps away from the lifeless body of Harry Potter. His brows raise almost expectantly and he brushes his knuckles across her cheek and down her jaw softly, “you know what we do to traitors.”

“Yes Master.” She raises her wand and points it to Narcissa's chest, a terrified silence is heard all around as Lord Voldemort’s most faithful incants silkily, “Avada Kedavra.”

Watch me turn your mind in to my home.

His magic knows no bounds, his power is unlike any others.

Does the Dark Lord ever show you affection?

"He does know how to show affection in his own way. Whether it is a simple graze of his knuckles along my cheek, a touch of my jaw with the tips of his fingers, his hand in my hair, or at night if he pulls me closer to him in bed if he believes I am cold, when he kisses my knuckles or forehead. . . but I digress. I am considerably lucky of course, to have the favour of the most powerful sorcerer in the world, but I would never deign to ask such a thing as affection of him."

Sweet reunion

You know outside of all the murder stuff, just imagine Voldemort and Bellatrix doing very normal things as they must’ve just done naturally especially considering they spend a decent amount of time together. Like sitting at the dining table eating a meal together, taking a walk in the gardens having regular (?) conversation, reading sat side by side. Every time anyone witnesses them doing things like this (even if they know Bellatrix well), they can’t help but find it weird as fuck that two of the most dangerous, violent people in the world do normal witch / wizard things, and actually seem to enjoy each other’s company…