"Wait for me, girls. I'll bring you roses and you'll bring me thorns. Wait for me, girls. I have loved you since before you were born."

Bellatrix stared out the window at the vibrantly full moon. The werewolves that fought for Voldemort would be affected tonight, she thought distantly.

Her mother was dead.

Somehow, that knowledge made Bellatrix think of a lullaby that Druella used to sing. It was a distant memory, a song nearly forgotten, but as Bellatrix gazed out the window, heavily drugged by a near overdose of Draught of Peace, she whispered,

"Wait for me, girls. I'll bring you roses and you'll bring me thorns. Wait for me, girls. I have loved you since before you were born."

Bellatrix blinked a few times and focused on the grooves and craters on the moon, so visible tonight, and she remembered a time when she'd been very small indeed.

Druella was heavily pregnant, sitting on the bench outside the country house as the sun went down. Tiny Andromeda was to her left, and Bellatrix to her right, both girls cradled up in their mother's arms.

'Well, girls,' Druella said, 'what do you think? Will it be a little boy or a little girl?'

'Is girl!' cried Andromeda confidently, her smile broad and tiny teeth gleaming. 'Is girl, girl, girl.'

Druella laughed quietly. 'What do you think, my beautiful Bella? Will it be a little girl?'

'I'd rather a brother,' Bellatrix said seriously, staring out at the moor. 'I've got one too many sisters.'

'That's terribly rude,' Druella scolded. Andromeda reached around Druella's pregnant belly and patted Bellatrix's snarled curls.

'Love you, Bella!' Andromeda said, and when Bellatrix didn't answer, Druella sighed, put one hand over her swollen abdomen, and began to sing softly.

'Wait for me, girls. I'll bring you roses and you'll bring me thorns. Wait for me, girls. I have loved you since before you were born.'

"Bellatrix?"

She blinked. Then she smiled a little, knowing that Voldemort had felt her memory along with her. She turned her head slowly from the window to see that he was sitting on the bed beside her, clad in pyjama trousers and smelling of soap.

"You're all cleaned up," Bellatrix drawled. "What time is it?"

"Half past three" Voldemort petted Bellatrix's curls and lay down carefully. She turned to face him, and he rubbed between her shoulder blades as he said, "We had to ensure there wouldn't be a second wave. I miscalculated with the goblins, Bella. I made a mistake... I underestimated how they'd fight back."

"No." Bellatrix shook her head slowly and put her hand flat on his chest. "No, My Lord. No. You tried to get them to fight for you, but they lacked any semblance of loyalty. Even payment wasn't enough. They've been a menace for centuries. How many died tonight?"

Voldemort let out a little breath and said, "Thirty-nine goblins... and your mother."

Bellatrix blinked and felt him thinking about the idea that Druella couldn't have a public funeral. There couldn't be large gatherings, not now. Not if they wanted to avoid this spiraling into a massive war for which they weren't fully prepared or armed. The Death Eaters needed to retreat underground, go mostly quiet for a few months. The disaster at Narcissa's wedding had been a major blow, and there could be no parties or attacks for some time. The heat needed to fade a little, or the entire movement would be jeopardised.

"Just... just have my sister and Lucius, my father and me. And you." Bellatrix nodded slowly and suggested, "We could bury her on the grounds of Malfoy Manor so the body doesn't have to be moved. I'm sure Abraxas wouldn't mind if we put her in the Malfoy family cemetery out back."

"Bella." Voldemort licked his bottom lip and said softly, "Your father and I buried her in the grounds at Malfoy Manor before I left. I Conjured a coffin of wood, and we put her in it. I carved her name and dates onto a slab of stone, which I polished up. She's already buried."

"Oh." Bellatrix felt a little sad then, and she started to sing quietly, "Wait for me, girls. I'll bring you roses and you'll bring me thorns."

"I'm sorry," Voldemort was saying, kissing lightly at Bellatrix's cheekbones. "Bella, I am sorry."

"I want to go to Andermatt, in Switzerland," she said in a drowsy voice. "I want to go to the wizarding resort at Andermatt with you."

"We can't," Voldemort said simply. "Everyone knows who I am. We could go undercover in the Muggle world. Just for a little while. Let everything calm down. I can't be sure that this place hasn't been tracked. I can't be sure that they don't know about our cottage on the Isle of Man. So we have to go somewhere entirely different. Somewhere they can't find us. I'd like to take you to Iceland. It was beautiful there, in a stark sort of way."

"Mulciber's son was meant to be married soon. Algar. To Zahara Shacklebolt," Bellatrix mused, and Voldemort cleared his throat softly.

"It'll have to be a quiet, small affair now. Nothing can be big. Nothing can be public."

"Narcissa will a wreck," Bellatrix said, rotating onto her back and wondering aloud, "Will she go insane?"

"She's got Lucius," Voldemort reminded her, "and your father's a grown wizard. Losses are most keenly felt when they are unexpected, but... people die."

"Not us," Bellatrix whispered, and Voldemort sighed as he agreed,

"Not us, no."

Then she felt his thoughts about Iceland, about its rugged mountains and its craggy cliffs, its angry seas and peaceful meadows and hot springs. He thought of buying a house there with counterfeit Muggle money, about posing as English Muggles looking to get away from the bustle of London. He thought about staying there until early September, when the Northern Lights would be visible.

"My mother is dead," Bellatrix murmured, staring straight into Voldemort's eyes. "You buried her with my father on Malfoy land."

"I did," Voldemort nodded. There was a long, heavy silence then in which Bellatrix felt nothing. Finally, Voldemort shut his eyes and shook his head. "We can't go to Iceland. I need to stay here. I need... if something breaks out, I need to be here. We'll hide here. We'll cut off the Floo connection to Malfoy Manor, ward this place like mad, and stay here, and I'll maintain contact with all my soldiers to ensure their loyalty whilst we lay low and let the heat die down."

"I think that's very wise, Master," Bellatrix nodded. The Draught of Peace was wearing off, she could feel. She'd taken it hours before, and now her eyes welled as she said, "I wish I'd taken that Killing Curse instead of my mother. At least I have a Horcrux."

"Don't you ever say anything like that again," Voldemort snapped in a sharp whisper. He kissed Bellatrix so hard that she squealed, and he said furtively against her mouth, "Do you know how devastated I... how destroyed I would be if anything had happened to you? You fought bravely, Bella; you took a number of the goblins out. You're a good soldier. But if someone had to die - you or Druella Black - then I'm glad I buried your mother earlier tonight. You understand?"

"We'll hide here," Bellatrix mumbled. "Send Coopy to get food supplies and then send him away for a while. We'll brew potions for fun. You'll have your sleeves rolled up."

"You're not making any sense," Voldemort sighed, and Bellatrix sniffled.

"Well, I'm sorry for that."

All of a sudden she felt a vibrating push on her brain, and she knew somehow that she was being Confounded. Voldemort kissed her again, so much more gently this time, and she felt him think,

You can send letters tomorrow to your sister and your father. Soon enough you can visit her grave, if you'd like. But you will know that I need you. You will do everything in your power to stay alive, because you are everything to me. And, tonight, you will sleep. You will fall asleep now, wrapped up in the arms of the master who adores you with every fibre of his being.

Bellatrix's eyelids grew heavy at once, and she nodded a little as she slid up closer to him. He laced an arm around her and whispered,

"Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, My Lord," she replied, just before sleep overwhelmed her.