17 December 1968

Malfoy Manor

"Bellatrix. Come sit down."

She did, moving slowly, her disbelief still coursing through her as she blinked slowly and whispered,

"Thank you for the hospitality, Mrs Malfoy."

Jessamyn Malfoy's elegant blonde bun, usually tightly in place, was just slightly askew tonight. Everyone was just a little wonky tonight, after receiving the news of what had happened to the Black family.

Bellatrix alone had survived through quick thinking. Her father had been brewing up a potion - a hair regrowth potion, of all things - and something had gone very, very wrong. The fumes that had been released had been so noxious that they'd filled the house with suffocating gases. Cygnus had gone first, since he'd been standing over the cauldron. Druella and the House-Elf had collapsed silently in the library. Andromeda and Narcissa had choked and sputtered in their bedrooms. Bellatrix, who had been reading in the conservatory, had blasted out the windows and gone running out into the garden, coughing and gasping for air. But she'd lived. She had been the only one to live.

A terrible accident, everyone was saying. But all Bellatrix could think was how very vain her father was to need hair regrowth potion badly enough to kill his family over it, and how stupid he was to botch it that badly. All she could think of was Narcissa's little face as she scrappled at her dresser, sending perfume bottles and mirrors flying.

"Now, my dear," said Abraxas Malfoy, who had been Cygnus' closest friend and looked shaky and aggrieved, "your parents' wills stipulated for the care of you… girls… in the case of their deaths. But Andromeda and Narcissa both perished, and you are of age."

"So I am on my own," Bellatrix nodded numbly. Mrs Malfoy shook her head vehemently.

"No, my dear," she said, her voice harsh from much crying. "You must stay here, with us."

Bellatrix blinked a few times. "But you already host Mr Riddle."

She wasn't sure whether to use the term for him that people whispered - Lord Voldemort. She knew that he still publicly went by Tom Riddle. In any case, he lived in quarters here at Malfoy Manor whilst he fundraised and gathered support for his fledgling political movement. Mrs Malfoy scoffed.

"We've plenty of room in this giant old house," she said firmly. "With only Lucius as our child. There are lovely quarters you can take, adjacent to those of Mr Riddle, and you may stay as long as you like or need. I know you can't go back to that house, child."

Bellatrix shuddered a little at the idea of living in the house where her whole family had died. It was a lovely townhome in Kensington, but, still… perhaps Mrs Malfoy was right. Bellatrix licked her lip and thought about the fact that she'd just come home on the Hogwarts Express the day before. She wouldn't be going back to school until early January. She'd certainly need somewhere to stay between now and then. Then she'd be off to Hogwarts and wouldn't be a bother to the Malfoys. She let out a shaky sigh and mumbled,

"I appreciate the offer, Mrs Malfoy. Thank you."

"When is the funeral?"

Bellatrix looked away from the window out of which she'd been staring in a parlour on Malfoy Manor's first floor. Walking into the room was a tall figure, cloaked in black, his face looking a bit like he'd been through a fire or some sort of bad spell. This was Tom Riddle - Lord Voldemort. Bellatrix rose slowly, but he gestured for her to sit, and he came and slowly sank into the armchair opposite her. He folded his hands on his lap and said carefully,

"I am deeply sorry to hear of your family. When is the funeral?"

"Tomorrow," Bellatrix answered simply. Then, deciding he probably wanted more information, she added, "Here at the manor, for space. It's… you know, Andromeda had her own friends that'll come, and Cissy the same. It's different when you're burying four compared with one."

"Mmmm." Mr Riddle bowed his head and chewed his lip for a moment, and then he said in a cautious sort of voice, "It was a bizarre mistake. The only way to form that sort of gas from that sort of potion is to put in bat eyes instead of bat's blood. It's… beyond careless. Amateur. But I knew your father, and he was a gifted potioneer. Not a mistake I would have seen him making."

Bellatrix's stomach churned, and her eyes watered. "What, you think he did it on purpose?"

Mr Riddle raised his eyes and shook his head. "No. He was probably distracted by something. I am merely noting how terrifically unexpected something like this is."

"Most people note what a tragedy it is," Bellatrix said back with a bite in her voice, and Mr Riddle sighed and tipped his head.

"That, too, of course."

"You are an unsentimental man, I take it," Bellatrix said, narrowing her eyes, and Mr Riddle raised his brows.

"How many times have you cried since your entire family died, Miss Black?"

"I beg your pardon?" she whispered, and he shrugged.

"Unsentimental creatures are we."

There was quiet then, a strangely comfortable quiet, and Bellatrix stared out the window as Mr Riddle did the same. They just sat there for a long time in the armchairs until at last Bellatrix said gently,

"You won't have to deal with having a next-door neighbour for long, sir. I'm back to school on the fifth of January."

"It's not a problem. We are both at the whim of the Malfoys' hospitality," Mr Riddle pointed out. Then he asked, "What will you do about Christmas?"

Bellatrix blinked quickly, thinking of hot chocolate and Christmas carols and other family traditions. The Malfoys surely had traditions, too, but she couldn't impinge upon them with her presence. She gulped and said helplessly,

"I'll sit in my quarters and listen to the music on the Wireless, I suppose."

"May I propose an idea to lift your spirits in some demonstrable fashion?" asked Tom Riddle, and Bellatrix frowned in confusion at him. He actually looked a little nervous then as he said, "You and I are like two boats at sea. I don't mind the solitude, you understand; I have a course to sail. But you are adrift and alone. So. May I suggest that you buy a small gift for me, and I buy a small gift for you, and we exchange them on Christmas morning so as to feel less like -"

"Two solitary boats?" Bellatrix finished, and Mr Riddle smirked. He nodded, and he added,

"I'll even take my Christmas dinner with you, if you like."

"How am I meant to know what sort of gift you'd enjoy?" Bellatrix asked, knitting her hands in her lap. "I don't know you."

He let out a heavy sigh, as though he were contemplating something, and he finally said,

"Well. I like the Dark Arts. I like history. Antiques. I'm intrigued by genealogy, lore, legend. What may be true, what we wish were true. Does that help?"

For the first time in a few days, Bellatrix felt the corners of her lips curl up. He seemed to notice, raising his eyebrows and tipping his head as she smiled just a little bit. Bellatrix's smile only grew at that, and she demurely bowed her head and felt her cheeks flush.

"So," she mumbled, "Borgin and Burkes might be a good place to look."

"They know me well there," Mr Riddle said cryptically, and when Bellatrix raised her eyes to him, he told her simply, "I used to work there."

Bellatrix nodded. "And did you enjoy it?"
He smiled, the edge of his mouth pulling strangely, the tissue looking burned and stretched. "I made some fond memories there."

"You are very good at distracting me from thinking about what's happened," Bellatrix noted, and his smile faded a little as he said almost gently,

"I'll be there tomorrow. That's not distracting, is it? Sorry."

He rose from his chair, and as he started to go from the room, he asked,

"So, will you take me up on my Christmas offer?"

"Yes," said Bellatrix. "Thank you, Mr Riddle."

"Tom," he said, looking uncomfortable. Then suddenly, on something of a whim, Bellatrix blurted,

"And the other name?"

His lips went into a line, and he said simply,

"That name is not for speaking. But you might think it, and I would like it if you did."

Bellatrix shut her eyes and imagined the words. Lord Voldemort. She opened her eyes to see him studying her very seriously, and then her throat felt awfully tight. She licked her lip and nodded crisply.

"Thank you, Tom."

It was pouring rain, because of course it was. And the rain was frigid, naturally. Bellatrix stood in the ballroom of Malfoy Manor, walking slowly past the open caskets of her family, and the rain thudded outside the windows, lashing the glass panes.

Narcissa was so tiny in her dark silver casket, her blonde hair braided in a bun atop her head. She looked like she was sleeping in the black velvet gown they'd chosen for her. Andromeda looked less peaceful, somehow, seeming restless even in death. Her auburn hair was long and loose, which unsettled Bellatrix for some reason. Her mother looked stern and angry, her lips pursed and her eyes clenched tightly. And her father's eyebrows were raised, as though in shock. Bellatrix sighed and moved away from the caskets, across the ballroom to the other side of the walls, and she stood near the great fireplace, staring out the windows at the rain.

"My dear?"

Jessamyn Malfoy had approached, holding a glass mug of what appeared to be cider for Bellatrix. She lowered her voice and murmured,

"There's Draught of Peace in it for you, darling."

"Oh. That's kind of you…" Bellatrix didn't have the heart to turn the drink down. Not today. If the worst thing that happened was she was extra calm, then so be it. She sipped at the hot cider, gulping it down until it was gone, and Mrs Malfoy smiled sadly as she took the mug back and slowly walked away. The Draught of Peace began to settle into Bellatrix's veins then. She suddenly didn't mind being here. She suddenly wasn't haunted by the burn of the gas in her throat, the sound of her own voice screaming Finestra to blast out the conservatory windows for air. She suddenly was ready to greet the mourners.

And they did come. Streams of them. Friends of her parents, of her sisters. One after another, they told Bellatrix how very sorry they were, how incredibly shocked they were.

"I just can't believe it. The entire family," gasped Mrs Mulciber. "What a miracle that you survived, my dear."

"Such a tragedy," lamented Armando Dippet, the retired headmaster of Hogwarts, "to lose two young souls like that. And for you to lose your sisters and your parents."

Everyone had something kind and very sad to say. Bellatrix just shook one forearm after another and embraced witches until she started to feel the Draught of Peace wearing off a bit. Then Tom Riddle walked up and bowed his head, and Bellatrix felt her stomach and heart flutter oddly.

"Mr Riddle," she acknowledged, and he said darkly,

"My condolences."

"Aren't you going to go on and on about what a tragedy it was?" Bellatrix asked him quietly, and he narrowed his eyes.

"You still haven't cried."

Bellatrix swallowed hard and stared across the room at where the four caskets were lined up. She returned her eyes to Mr Riddle and said as lightly as she could,

"Unsentimental creatures are we."

He smirked just a little bit, and he reached for Bellatrix's hand.

"What an unmitigated tragedy," he said seriously, "for a young witch to lose her entire family in one day. Truly, a shocking and appalling -"

"That'll do," Bellatrix said, staring at where he held his hand in hers. He didn't release her fingers. He said quietly,

"Think of Christmas. I already know what I'm buying you for your gift. And there will be figgy pudding and everything."

"Thank you, Mr Riddle." Suddenly Bellatrix's eyes welled very heavily, and tears came up and boiled over her eyes, and she said thickly, "Look what you've made me do."

They both raised their eyes, and he finally released her hand as he mumbled,

"Now for that, I will not apologise. Good day, Miss Black."

He walked away, leaving Bellatrix with tears streaming down her cheeks as the Lestrange family walked up to give their condolences.

Author's Note: Obviously this fic is highly AU. I just couldn't stay away from Bellamort allllllll the way until the 16th. Hopefully I can get this one finished before Fantastic Beasts comes out; otherwise, I'll be pulling double duty. This plot bunny just decided to burn a hole in my head. I hope you guys like this one. Thanks for reading; please do REVIEW! :)