Voldemort and Bellatrix

Even in the sunlight around 10 a. m., Lestrange Manor, outside Oxfordshire, still appeared gloomy.

The building is a typical French stonework style, with cold, hard lines, narrow, tall windows, and thick walls that completely shut out the warmth of the countryside.

Even during the day, the manor required ample lighting; candles burned on silver candlesticks, and Magical Flames leaped in the fireplace.

Tracking tool, super useful!

But the light always seemed to be swallowed up by something invisible, unable to illuminate the shadows in the corners.

The servants, dressed in uniform dark uniforms, moved silently through the long corridor covered with Persian carpets.

House-elf are nowhere to be seen; they only appear from some corner when you need to change candlesticks or clean the fireplace ashes, and then disappear immediately after doing so.

A dark green flame flickered in a secondary fireplace in the corner of the living room. Bellatrix stepped out and landed heavily on the carpet.

The fervent excitement on his face hadn't completely faded; his eyes were gleaming, and a strange smile lingered on his lips.

Instead of immediately going to find Rodolphus, she turned and walked up the stairs.

Her bedroom was in the east wing of the manor, at the end of the Corridor. Pushing open the door, the room was large and ornately decorated, with a carved Four-poster bed and silk curtains.

Several eerie and terrifying Magic portraits hung on the wall, and some Dark Arts items that looked dangerous were displayed in the glass cabinet.

Bellatrix took off her cloak and threw it at the foot of the bed, then took a dark purple everyday dress from the wardrobe and put it on.

This is the Lestrange family. She needs to give Rodolphus a brief explanation before going to see the truly important people.

Stepping out of her bedroom, she walked back along the corridor she had come from. As she approached the Family Council Chamber, she bumped into someone who had just come out of the Library.

Rodolphus Lestrange.

He was tall, more than a head taller than Bellatrix, with broad shoulders.

He was wearing a dark gray formal robe, the color and style of which made him look old-fashioned and gloomy.

His eyes were sunken, his cheekbones were high, his lips were thin and tightly pressed together, his expression was serious, and his eyes were sinister.

He glanced at Bellatrix, but didn't stop, continuing towards the council chamber.

Rodolphus's voice was low and flat. "Is the matter settled?"

Bellatrix raised her chin, a smug look on her face indicating that she had completed her mission.

"Of course." Her voice was deliberately light and cheerful. "Regulus Black gladly accepted the gift, and his reaction was quite good."

In her view, Regulus ' performance not only met expectations, but may even have exceeded them.

For a twelve-year-old child to remain calm and even grasp something from their first encounter with Dark Enlightenment is truly commendable.

More importantly, this proves that she completed her task beautifully.

A successful mission means Voldemort will pay more attention to her.

Bellatrix had no feelings for Rodolphus; it was merely a political marriage between Pureblood families.

The marriage of the Black family's daughter to the eldest son of the Lestrange family would strengthen the bond between the two Ancient Families, facilitate the exchange of benefits, and purify the bloodline.

She already knew what kind of person Rodolphus was: cold, rigid, and valuing family interests and the Pure-bloods ideology above all else.

He could not possibly show any tenderness towards his wife, only demanding that she fulfill her duties as Lady Lestrange.

Social interaction, procreation, and, when necessary, serving as a bridge between the Black family and Lestrange family.

Rodolphus treated her the same way.

He knew what kind of person Bellatrix was: fanatical, obsessive, and with a morbid loyalty and infatuation with Voldemort.

He married her because of her surname, her bloodline, and her position by Voldemort's side.

He didn't care about her personality, as long as she didn't harm the Lestrange family's interests.

In this relationship, Bellatrix's only source of confidence in suppressing Rodolphus came from her surname and her position with Voldemort.

The surname Black carries more weight in the Pure-bloods circle Lestrange.

The Black family has produced more Wizengamot members, more high-ranking officials in the Ministry of Magic, has a more complete business portfolio, and a wider network of connections.

Her position by Voldemort's side, as one of his most fervent followers, allowed her direct access to the Dark Lord and the ability to carry out important missions.

This gave her a special immunity from the Lestrange family.

Rodolphus could be indifferent to her, but he couldn't truly despise her, because to do so would be to disregard Voldemort's trust in her.

Now, Regulus has gained Voldemort's attention.

This means that the Black family's influence within Voldemort's camp has increased further.

As the daughter of the Black family, Bellatrix's status naturally rose accordingly.

Therefore, her deliberate emphasis on Regulus's good performance was a reminder to Rodolphus.

Look, another wizard from our Black family has been favored by that Dark Lord. You'd better be polite to me.

Rodolphus gave a slight smirk.

The movement was so subtle that it was hard to tell whether it was sarcasm or some other emotion.

He looked at Bellatrix: "What was Orion's reaction?"

Bellatrix scoffed.

What other reaction could there be?

She mimicked Orion's calm yet subtly authoritative tone.

"The Black family is grateful for his high regard. They may show gratitude outwardly, but they're probably bleeding inside."

Rodolphus grunted in response, offering no further comment.

"The master is waiting for your report in the Study." After saying that, he didn't look at Bellatrix again and turned to walk in another direction.

Bellatrix watched his figure disappear around the corner, then pouted.

They both knew what kind of people the other was, and they were too lazy to pretend, even skipping superficial politeness.

She straightened the collar of her robe, took a deep breath, and with a renewed expression of piety and excitement on her face, walked toward Voldemort's Study.

The Study was located in a separate building deeper within the manor, which Voldemort temporarily requisitioned.

Bellatrix walked through a long corridor lined with portraits on both sides, the Lestrange ancestors in the frames staring at her with somber eyes.

The portrait of 19th-century Minister for Magic Radolph Lestrange is particularly unfriendly, with a menacing look in his eyes.

Leta Lestrange watched Bellatrix's retreating figure with a melancholy expression, then turned and disappeared.

At the end of the path, a heavy Oak Door stood closed, its surface undecorated except for a brass handle, polished to a shine.

She raised her hand and tapped three times gently.

A voice came from inside. "Come in."

The room was small and simply furnished, with only a heavy black wooden desk and a high-backed chair.

The only light source was a Magic Lamp on the table, its shade made of some kind of translucent bone material, emitting a pale white light.

The light cast Voldemort's elongated shadow onto the stone wall behind him, the edges of the shadow blurred and swaying slightly, as if it had a life of its own.

Voldemort sat in a high-backed chair, his back to the door and his face to the window with iron bars on the other side of the room.

When Bellatrix entered, she held her breath, walked to the desk and stopped about three steps away, placed her right hand on her left chest above her heart, and bowed deeply.

The movements are exaggerated and full of ritual.

"My the Master."

Voldemort slowly turned around.

By 1973, Voldemort's appearance had undergone a crucial transformation from Tom Riddle to a somewhat inhuman form, but it had not yet reached the extreme serpentine appearance he would later achieve.

He still retains the basic human outline, with a slender body, broad shoulders, and arms and fingers of normal length.

However, the skin was a waxy white, paler than a skull, devoid of any color, rough in texture, and with faintly visible twisted blood vessels beneath the skin.

The face is still human in shape, but the facial features have changed significantly.

The nose has lost its normal nasal bridge structure, becoming flat, leaving only two narrow slits for the nostrils.

Her lips were extremely thin, a dark purple that was almost black, and when pressed together, they blended almost seamlessly into her skin.

The most striking feature is its eyes.

The iris was a dark reddish-brown from bloodshot eyes, the whites of the eyes were covered with blood vessels, making the person appear violent and insane, and the pupils had shrunk to narrow vertical slits.

His hair was still thick, but the color had become darker, almost jet black, and it was neatly combed back.

He wore a floor-length black Velvet cloak, undecorated except for a barely visible Slytherin Serpent Mark embroidered in silver thread at the collar.

A chilling sense of oppression emanated from him.

Even without him casting Magic, just sitting there, the room seemed a few degrees cooler than other places.

Occasionally, wisps of fine black mist would drift through the air; this was a sign of overflowing Magic Power.

A book was lying open on the table.

The cover material is very special; it is a dark yellowish-brown color with fine pore textures and wrinkles that once belonged to some living being.

It's human skin.

Voldemort's long, pale fingers rested on the edge of the book pages, his nails sharp and hard.

He raised his red eyes and looked at Bellatrix.

Under the gaze of those indiscriminate eyes that conveyed malice and oppression.

Bellatrix trembled, her face flushed, and she looked completely intoxicated.

She's about to fly.