He was twenty five years older. She was just a child. He had mutilated himself. She was pure.
Nevertheless, as he gazed at her snow white skin over the dinner table, he could not help but feel roused by the eighteen year old girl. Her sleek dark hair rippled down her back as she sat, glum faced, staring at her fork which she had stabbed into a carrot.
He cleared his throat, his unnaturally long fingered hands grasping his own cutlery as he ate with the Black Family. Cygnus, the girl's father, was talking about politics and education; how he felt that one's blood status dictates where they should be educated, how Hogwarts was a school for wizards, not half breeds. There were sounds of agreement from the other adults around the table.
Two dark haired boys sat flicking peas at each other across the table, only being stopped by their sharp looking mother, Walburga, who snapped at them to behave themselves, how they were in the company of great politicians and how their father would be furious if he found out they were showing themselves up. The boys, Sirius and Regulus, calmed down at once.
Voldemort's eyes went back to the dark haired girl, Bellatrix. She was striking; with her pale skin, silky hair, blue eyes and ruby red lips. She was a sight to behold. Not unlike her mother, Druella.
Druella Rosier had been a part of Voldemort's group of friends at school; a tall woman with thick blonde hair and heavily hooded eyes, she graced the room like a queen would. She had married her sweetheart, Cygnus, not long after leaving Hogwarts and fell pregnant soon after with their eldest daughter, Bellatrix. Then Andromeda, a brown haired girl, though just as striking as her older sister, was born soon after. Narcissa, the youngest of the three Black sisters, was born two years after Andromeda. She was quite as remarkable as her sisters, with her fair complexion and white blonde hair.
His eyes went back to the girl. This entire evening was for her, to find her a pureblood suitor. No one approached her, apparently intimidated by her great beauty, although they stared at her.
The end of the evening was called and the guests began to file out of the grand dining hall, with its high ceilings and stone floors which echoed the slightest noise even during the rowdiest of parties.
Voldemort watched as the last guests left.
He was alone with Cygnus, Druella, Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa.
"My Lord?" Cygnus simpered, rubbing his hands together. Druella attended to her youngest daughters, who glowered at their father and then left the room.
"That was a splendid meal, Cygnus. I believe you cooked that yourself?"
Voldemort gazed at Cygnus, who smiled, "Indeed. One can't trust house elves with cooking, lest one has the same fate as the pitiful Hepzibah Smith. Do you know of her, My Lord? She was poisoned by her house elf. It was all over the papers, I'm sure you'd have heard about it."
"I'm sure the Dark Lord heard about it, father." Bellatrix said in a low voice. She looked quite as disdainfully at her father as her younger siblings had. Though he doted on her, it was apparent to Voldemort that Bellatrix loathed her father.
"Well, quite." Voldemort said shortly, "In fact, I met her while I was working at Borgin and Burke's prior to my studies of dark magic. She was a pleasant woman, though quite robust."
Cygnus smiled unpleasantly at Voldemort. Bellatrix gazed nonchalantly at him, her blue eyes twinkling.
"She was naïve to the last degree, however. I do not pity her. Though she has been dead for some time now, Cygnus."
"Indeed, My Lord." Cygnus stroked his greased hair with a small hand, "May I escort you outside?"
"That would be welcome."
Bellatrix curtsied to the Dark Lord then gazed intently at her father, who said, "You can escort him, dear. I've just realised that I have business to attend to."
"Of course, father."
Bellatrix smiled to herself and then lead Voldemort out of the vast hall.
"I saw you watching me during the meal, My Lord. Was the food that disappointing?"
Voldemort chuckled to himself. This young creature before him had a wit beyond her years. She walked just like her mother, with the rise and fall of a dancer. Indeed, Bellatrix reminded him so much of her mother, though her hair was dark just like her father's.
"Your father's food was mediocre. I believe you felt the same."
Bellatrix's smile widened, "I believe the word 'bland' applies to that meal."
"You're a wise girl, Bellatrix. Honesty in youth is such a scarcity these days." Voldemort stated, "Honesty was rewarded when I was younger, though I never quite stood by the policy. Merely telling the truth makes the world all the less stimulating. But look at me," He turned to Bellatrix, "Reminiscing about my past. I have grown quite sentimental with age."
They passed through the great wooden door and out into the garden. They could hear a fountain playing. There were no words between them as they walked across the cobblestone path towards the gate where Voldemort could apparate.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, My Lord." Bellatrix said, inclining her head subserviently.
"Indeed. Goodnight, Bellatrix." Voldemort bowed his head and taking Bellatrix's hand in his own, he brushed his lips against the back of it and caught her eye as he raised himself up again. Her face had flushed with colour.
He let go of her hand, the slim fingers slipping from within his, and then he disapparated with a very faint pop, which echoed into the night.

Hope you enjoyed this. Please review and let me know if you'd like me to continue with this.