Author's Notes: Written for CalculusWasTough's Seventh Thing Competition on the HPFC forum.
Largely unrequited Belladolphus drabbles. (I've been in such a drabbly mood lately!)
"We're going to be late to the meeting, Bellatrix," Rodolphus told her. He was already armed and prepared for the Death Eater meeting, for whatever tasks lay ahead of them, and Bellatrix was still glued to her mirror, arranging her hair to perfection.
She ignored him.
"You look fine. Can't you hurry up? The Dark Lord will be angry if we're late." Rodolphus didn't fancy the idea of suffering at the Dark Lord's hands for Bellatrix's obsession with looking pretty.
"The Dark Lord will be just as angry if I turn up looking like a mess," Bellatrix told him haughtily. "Just because he doesn't pay enough attention to you to know whether you look decent or not…"
Rodolphus gritted his teeth and looked away from her. She might make at least a little effort to pretend shame. But no. She felt no shame. She just looked at herself in the mirror and sighed dreamily.
"I really do look lovely," she said, preening, and acting as though Rodolphus couldn't hear her. "It's no wonder the Dark Lord favours me so."
"No wonder at all," Rodolphus agreed bitterly.