Bellatrix didn't know how she was to get to the dinner party, nor what to expect, but on the day specified in the letter, she was sent a note that told her of a secret passage from just outside the dunegons to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, and that she would be met there by a chaperone.

She had been wondering too much about the party and neglected to realise that she had nothing to wear; but this was taken care of too. She was sent a dress in the owl post, a beautiful black gown that fit perfectly. When she tried it on in the privacy of the girl's bathroom on the night, she felt like somebody else. With her thick black curls out of their usual  hairband and loose around her shoulders, she looked taller, older, more confident, more sure of what she was doing. For the first time, she wondered about makeup. They weren't allowed to wear it at home, but she had seen some of the other girls with it.

Bellatrix snuck back to the dormitory and borrowed Livia's red lipstick from her bedside table, then smiled at herself in the mirror, admiring how the colour flattered her pale skin. She had no pockets in the dress so put on her own cloak, shoving her wand into the pocket. The school cloak rather spoiled the adult effect; she pulled a face at herself in the mirror before checking her watch. It was quarter to, and the walk would take her about ten minutes. She had better get going.

Butterflies erupted in her stomach as she made her way through the narrow passageway, but they were ones of excitement rather than nerves. She felt light headed with expectation, and as she rounded a corner, she saw a heavy trapdoor. When she came to it, she reached up and knocked on it lightly, three times. This was the signal that had been specified in the note.

As she watched, it was heaved open, and a hand lowered to help her up. Bellatrix took it, and with ease, she she was helped up to the open sky. It was a dark and moonless night, but she could see the lights of the castle in the distance; shivering a little, she turned to the man who had helped her out of the passageway.

With disappointment, she realised that it was not the Dark Lord, then quickly scolded herself. Of course the Dark Lord would be too important and too busy to meet her from school. Instead, her chaperone was only a few years older than herself. He wore a set of smart black dress robes, but there was no denying the boyish spill of the blond hair across his forehead, nor the slight roundness of his face. She recognised him vaguely - one of the Lestrange brothers.

"Bellatrix Black," he said, looking her up and down with a small sneer. "Nobody said you were just a little girl. How old are you?"

"Old enough. You're not of age either, are you?"

The boy's cheeks pinked. "I will be in March."

"You don't have your license then, so we must be taking a Portkey," she turned her head and gathered her cloak around herself. "Two minutes to eight. Where is it?"

With some reluctance he took what appeared to be a silver cigarette case from his pocket, then regarded her with frank curiosity. "Why are you invited? Mother wouldn't tell me."

"That's a secret," she said primly, then checked her watch again. "One minute."

He held the case out to her, and she placed two fingers on the cool metal, beside his. "Have my parents been invited?"

He shook his head. "The Dark Lord said they weren't required."

She felt an odd little thrill at his words. This would be the first time she would ever be anywhere without supervision from her parents or teachers. It was exciting.

Lestrange had begun to count down from ten seconds, and she took a breath, readying herself for travel.

"Five, four, three, two.......eight exactly," and she felt that familiar tug in her stomach as she was dragged away from the highlands.

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Lestrange Manor was a shock. It made the Black's house look like a cottage. There were so many turrets, windows and sloped roofs that it rivalled Hogwarts. It shone brightly from its hill, but there was something empty about it.

"How many of you live here?" She asked in curiosity as they walked up the driveway.

"Just Mother, Rabastan and myself now," their feet crunched over the stones. "And the house elves, of course."

That answered which brother he was. Bellatrix knew that Rabastan was the older one, so then this must be Rodolphus. There was a sister, too, but she must have been married by now - she was a lot older, and Bellatrix had only heard her briefly mentioned in conversation.

When they entered the house, Bellatrix was struck by how little people there were. There was very soft music, and only a few other people mingling in the large ball room.

"The Dark Lord wanted it to be very select," Rodolphus saw her face. "He hand picked the guests."

Bellatrix felt a wave of pride. He could have picked anyone, and he had chosen her. She searched for him in the ballroom, but he wasn't there. Not sure what to do, she went to accept a drink from a house elf, and Rodolphus was just about to sidle away when a middle aged woman came across to them.

"Miss Black, how nice to see you. Rodolphus, it's only polite to stay with your date, you know."

Rodolphus' cheeks were pink again. "Hullo, Mother," he mumbled, scratching his neck. "Of course."

"We're just about to sit, anyway. Bellatrix, you and Rodolphus are together, right across from Mr Rosier."

Bellatrix, startled, looked up and indeed saw her cousin Rupert across the room. He looked just as surprised to see her, but quickly turned back to his date, a pretty young woman in green with long auburn hair.

"Shouldn't we wait for the Dark Lord?"

Just mentioning him seemed to cast a silence in the room. Mrs Lestrange shook her head.

"He will be late. He often is. Come, Rodolphus, take her arm. The dining room is through here."

Rodolphus was still pink faced with embarrassment, but Bellatrix wasn't sure if it was from having his mother give him orders, or because he had to stick with a fourteen year old. Whichever, anyhow, she was not going to let him patronise her just because he was older. When he took her arm, she was the one who lead him after Mrs Lestrange, and into the dining room, and she was the one who let go first. When she sat down, she took off her school cloak, hurriedly shoving it down the side of her chair out of sight.

She caught the eye of the woman across from her - the one with the long auburn hair - and flushed a little.

"I like your hair," she said at last, embarrassed in case the woman realised she was still at school.

She smiled at her. "I like yours too. You have beautiful curls."

She blushed properly at that, and looked down at her plate. She very rarely got compliments, and nobody had ever complimented her hair before. Her mother had always said it was a nightmare.

When her blush had subsided, she quickly looked around the table. There were only eight places filled. Mrs Lestrange, Rodolphus, Bellatrix and two young men she did not know sat on one side. On the other sat Rupert, the girl with the auburn hair, and a young married couple Bellatrix recognised as cousins of hers, though she did not know them well. The head of the table was empty, a place set for the Dark Lord.

Dinner began and the guests passed trivial conversation about weather and politics, though Bellatrix was mostly silent. She didn't eat much of her food, both excited and nervous, feeling a little sick with expectation. The conversation occasionally died out, everybody's glances flicking to the door, waiting and expectant.

But it wasn't until desert was served, a sickly Eton mess, that Bellatrix heard what she had been waiting for all night; the sound of the front door opening, and then raptured silence around the table.

The Dark Lord had arrived.