Sweetheart (Bellatrix)

Title: Sweetheart (Bellatrix)
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2k
Fandom: Harry Potter Series
World: Wicked Stepmother Series (Sweetheart)
Pairing(s): Bellatrix/Tankard, (one sided) Bellatrix/Lucius, Lily (pureblood)/Dark Lord

Warning(s): arranged marriages, Dark Lord, magical instability, racism
Prompt: for Redhead of Avonlea : I enjoyed your Bellatrix in the unfinished Sweetheart stories. It would be interesting to see Bellatrix be the center of a fic where she plays with Pureblood hearts until someone plays back and wins. I would leave the pairing up to you.

Bellatrix sat down at The Wicked Stepmother, picked up her napkin, and draped it over her lap elegantly.  Tomorrow started the Beltane holidays and Electra was coming home to Black Hole and she would need to serve as chaperone to her sister and the Dark Lord.  Hadn’t that been the most surprising development?  Not only had the Purge of Hogwarts produced her long lost sister, but the Dark Lord had taken a romantic interest in her littlest sister.  He was practically besotted with her. 

A figure slid into the chair across from her and she looked up.

“Tankard,” she greeted, her dark eyes flitting up.

“Thank you for meeting me,” he stated, picking up his napkin and dumping it in his lap. 

Bellatrix rather despaired of Tankard.  He was practically a half-blood with his bad manners, but Electra had practically begged her to “make nice” with him, so she would be polite.

“How is Hogwarts?” she asked, picking up a menu.  “I believe the Dark Lord named you High Inquisitor.”

His black eyes regarded her for a long moment before he stretched his hands and leaned back.  “The Purge is complete.  We finished with the first years just this week.”

That perked Bellatrix’s interest.  Not looking up, she asked, “Did you find any other hidden purebloods?”

“Your sister was the only pureblood,” Tankard stated carefully.

Bellatrix looked up from the menu.

“We did find a halfblood.  He was the product of an affair between a wizard and a Muggle woman.  The wizard came forward and verified paternity.”

Scoffing, Bellatrix discarded the menu.  “To sully one’s blood like that is a crime against magic.  I hope this wizard—if he deserves the name—has taken custody of the boy?”

Tankard nodded.  “The young Hufflepuff was removed from his Muggle home.  His mother and stepfather were obliviated and he will be going to his new magical residence this summer.”  He tapped his fingers on his right hand, his wand hand.  “Would you like to get tea, Mademoiselle Bellatrix?”

“This isn’t a marriage date, Tankard,” Bellatrix warned as she tapped her wand on her choice of lavender tea with honey.  She was feeling light and whimsical.  The thought of obliviated Muggles always lightened her mood.

Quickly, he agreed, “Of course not.”

She looked up at him, her gray eyes meeting his black.  He was trying too hard to appear casual.

Their tea appeared.

“Biscuits?” Bella asked.  “Or would you prefer shortbread?”  She began to pour them each a cup of tea.

“Lady’s choice,” he told her gallantly, careful not to pick up his cup until she had sipped from her own cup. 

Bellatrix picked up the menu again and ordered shortbread, which appeared in short order.  “Not that I’m sure you need to watch your figure, Tankard,” she teased, “but these have magically lowered calories and sugar content.”

He didn’t look surprised at the information. 

She watched him pick up a cookie and take a large bite from it before putting it aside on his place, dusting off his fingers.  He really was a man.  There was nothing graceful about him, Bellatrix thought.  No wonder he was single.  Then again, he was only two or three years behind her at Hogwarts, and she was twenty-five, a scandalous age for a witch to be unmarried.  That would make him twenty-two, twenty-three, a quite respectable for a man to start looking about him for a wife.  Bellatrix hated double standards for witches and wizards.  As a young witch, she never knew why she couldn’t just send a courting gift to a wizard she fancied but instead had to wait for him to make his intentions clear.

“I received your petition,” he opened, taking another sip of tea, his black eyes looking at her. 

Bellatrix tried not to show she was interested in the conversation, but she leaned forward despite herself.  “The Dark Lord indicated he would favor such a petition—”

“He did,” Tankard told her firmly.

Her breath let out.  She hadn’t realized she was holding it.

“You are now the magical guardian of your younger sister, Electra Amabilis Black.  All parental rights to your parents have been severed.  Mademoiselle Electra will be informed later today.”

Bellatrix let her eyes meet his.  “I have a letter for Electra.  I thought she should have it explained to her.”

“Of course,” Tankard agreed.

Two months ago, Narcissa had learned that Heir Lucius Malfoy had tried to court Electra and had thrown a magical fit.  She had gone through the house, her magic destroying everything, and the healers believed that Electra would be unsafe in her presence, especially since Narcissa had been released home.  The irony of the situation was that Electra had been engaged to the Dark Lord since Christmas and Heir Lucius had bowed out respectfully.  Narcissa became the only available Black daughter with blonde hair months before she learned Heir Lucius ever had an interest in her younger sister.  Now she was magically unstable and would never be considered a viable candidate for the future Heiress Lucius.  Bellatrix wanted to take Electra in and become magically responsible for her—hence the petition.

The two sat in silence, drinking their lavender tea and eating their shortbread. 

Tankard had clearly dressed up for the occasion.  He had slicked back his dark hair that, though short, was on the longer side.  He was also wearing robes that were too nice for walking the halls of Hogwarts, a dark maroon with black accents.  Bellatrix even though she detected a scent on him, an aftershave perhaps.

Bellatrix wasn’t a simpleton.  She knew that Tankard held a tender penchant for her.  She also knew that Electra was promoting the match for reasons unknown.  In every letter she received from her younger sister, there was at least one line of how Tankard proved a worthwhile ally to her and the Dark Lord.  She had even called him “thoughtful” in one letter.  If Bellatrix didn’t know Electra’s affections were engaged elsewhere, she would wonder if her sister fancied the man herself.

“I read your special report,” Tankard told her when the silence had stretched for several minutes.  “How do you like being a special correspondent for The Daily Prophet?”

She paused and looked into her cup.  “It’s not as fulfilling as spellwork,” she admitted, “but we can’t all be High Inquisitor.”

“There is very little spellwork in my position.”

Bellatrix scoffed at him.  “How much blood magic did you perform in your little purge?”

“Point taken,” he agreed.  “It did get quite repetitive.”

She nearly snorted, but that would be inelegant. 

The maître d’ entered with Heir Lucius Malfoy following.  He was just as tall and impressive as he always was.  When he saw her, he bowed his head to her then lifted his eyebrow in question before going to his table.  She’d have to talk to him.

Tankard pulled her chair out for her when she got up to leave and even went to go fetch her outer robe.  Bellatrix could feel his breath against her neck as he tenderly placed it on her shoulders, and she turned to look at him.

“Let me walk you to the floo,” he offered. 

Flustered, Bellatrix could only murmur, “thank you,” and she thought she felt his hand finger the edge of her robe as he walked half a step behind her out to the foyer.

When she returned to Black Hole, she pondered Tankard and then went and fished out her copy of Spungen’s Guide to Pureblood Dynasties, c.1500-present.  She flipped through it hastily until she found “Tankard.”  They were an offshoot of the Prince household, which would explain Tankard’s black eyes.  Sitting, Bellatrix read the entire entry before examining the family tree and finding Tankard on it.

Terentius Tankard, born 1954.  That would make him three years younger than her.  He was a year younger than Andromeda, her sister who was lost to her.  At least he was older than Narcissa and Electra, she thought to herself wryly.

She got up from her seat but left Spungen’s open on the table.  Perhaps she might look at it later.

An owl arrived from Electra the next morning, full of questions and plans, and she smiled to herself.  There was also a note about how Tankard had brought her up to his office and had broken the news to her in private so she could react away from prying eyes.  She used the word “thoughtful” again.  It made Bellatrix laugh to herself.

An owl also came from Heir Lucius.  He wanted to meet in the usual place: a dam in Cumbria that was far away from prying Muggle and wizarding eyes.

She Apparated there at the appointed time and saw that Lucius was already there, leaning up against the barrier, water washing hurriedly beneath him.

“Are you conquered at last?” he asked her with a grin.

“I noticed you were with Anasta Bones,” she teased back, coming up to him.  “Can she really be called blonde?”

He gave her an exasperated look. 

Bellatrix looked down at the rushing water.  “Would it be that bad?” she asked, more to herself than her friend.

Lucius looked over at her.  “He is High Inquisitor at Hogwarts and greatly favored by the Dark Lord.”

“Rodulphus Lestrange sent me a courting gift last week.”

Laughing, Lucius shook his head.  “We both know you can do better than Lestrange.”

Yes, yes, she could.

“It would make your sister happy, which in turn would make the Dark Lord happy,” Lucius suggested carefully.

Bellatrix looked up at him carefully and asked, “What do you know?”

He gave her a one-shouldered shrug.  “I’m a Death Eater.  I’m in the Dark Lord’s presence and our Lord cannot be long without his Dark Lady, even if she is still a Hogwarts student.”

“They’re inseparable,” Bellatrix shared.  “He visits Hogwarts every weekend and either Tankard or I have to serve as chaperone while they walk the grounds or go into Hogsmeade.”

Lucius leaned forward.  “Would you have ever thought, all those years ago when we began, that our Lord would ever find a Dark Lady?”

“No,” Bellatrix agreed.  “I’m glad it’s my sister, though.”  She turned over her words.  “I wish she were a bit older.”

Sighing Lucius admitted, “We cannot stop the ravages of love.  When Cupid pierces us with his arrow, even us wizards are forced to bow to his capriciousness.”

Bellatrix smiled at him.  Wizards enjoyed Roman mythology.  Many wizards were named after Roman gods, believing the names gave them power.  Bellatrix herself was named after a Roman figure.  Lucius was named after light personified.

“Has cupid struck you?” Lucius asked her.

She looked at him wryly.  “With Tankard?”

“You could do much worse—” Lucius suggested carefully.

“I could do much better.”

Lucius sighed.  “I am the only available Malfoy and we will never make a match.  Would you marry either of your cousins?”

“No,” Bellatrix said firmly, thinking of both Sirius and Regulus, who were little more than boys.

“The Princes are all married,” Lucius continued, “and Lord Bones has only produced daughters so far this generation.”

“I noticed you with Anasta Bones,” she teased again.  “She has to be a strawberry blonde.”

“I cannot marry Electra,” he told her firmly, “and I will never marry Narcissa.  I must think of the honor of my house.”

Bellatrix rolled her eyes.  “So, you think I should give this a shot?” she asked.

“Yes,” Lucius told her firmly.  “I definitely think you should give Tankard a chance.  He is eminently respectable.”

The problem was, Bellatrix didn’t want respectability.  She wanted fire, she wanted passion.  She wanted magic.  Could Tankard even hope to offer any of that to her?

Electra spoke of little else of course when she wasn’t speaking of the Dark Lord.  She even found the entry laid out in Spungen’s.  “Oh, Bella, have you seen his good qualities at last?”

She looked over her sister coolly.  “Is he blackmailing you?”

“No—” She began carefully.

“But he is influencing you.”  Bellatrix sighed.  She knew it.  It was such a Slytherin thing to do. 

“He’s been so good to me and sweetheart—before I knew he was the Dark Lord,” Electra wheedled, coming and sitting next to her sister, “and I don’t want you to end an old maid.  The other business—”

Bellatrix looked up at her with dark eyes. 

“You’re never going to be blonde like me or Narcissa.  He’s never going to notice you.”  Electra ran a hand through Bellatrix’s dark curls.  “He doesn’t appreciate what a beauty you are.  I want you to know what that’s like—”

Standing, Bellatrix dislodged her youngest sister and looked over at her, still sitting on the sofa at Black Hole.  “Your matchmaking is atrocious, Elle.”

“Yes, but is it working?”

The problem is that it was.

The End.