As suddenly as it came, the strange sensation of being twisted in space was gone. The cold and damp air of Azkaban was gone. She quickly scanned her new location and found buildings on both sides. It did not take her long to recognize her new surroundings.
Diagon Alley.
The heart of the British wizarding world.
A place she hadn't set foot in for years. She looked up and observed. Even for someone as crazy as Bellatrix, it felt good to see the sky after so long. She noticed it was still dark, except for a soft hint of light pushing through. The street she was in was still in a shadowy gloom, but Bellatrix knew she was specifically in Knockturn Alley.
Bellatrix opened her mouth to ask Voldemort why she was brought here. Was there a mudblood here that Voldemort needed her to torture? But the realization of their proximity struck her first.
At Azkaban, Voldemort hugged her waist and grabbed her hand to apparate her together with him, and right now, she found herself still in the same position.
Their hands were still entwined like before, but the other hand of Voldemort that had been resting on her hip moments ago had shifted lower, firmly gripping her bottom. Her hip was pressed against his, and her chest was flushed against Voldemort's.
Bellatrix had worshiped him for years and spent her time in Azkaban fantasizing about Voldemort's touch. She lived for the only purpose of fulfilling his master's order and dreamt of the day when Voldemort would make her his completely. She was consumed by the thought of being close to him, but nothing in her dark fantasies had prepared her for the reality of his touch.
Voldemort, the Dark Lord she had worshiped and feared, was never one to indulge in such displays.
Maybe this time, she had finally proven herself to him.
Her wide eyes darted to his face, searching for an explanation, but his expression was calm, even indifferent, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
Just when she thought her fantasy was finally becoming a reality, she felt both hands of Voldemort leaving her body. The distance between their bodies grew, and she found Voldemort standing in front of her.
No. Do not end so quickly. She needed this.
Bellatrix's body was yearning for his warm touch, urging her to ask his Lord to satisfy her need. But she could not bring herself to demand Voldemort do this.
Bellatrix looked at Voldemort's eyes and, upon seeing his cold eyes, she realized that it must have been no lustful desire from Voldemort.
This was still the supreme Wizard she worshiped. She was not yet worthy of his affection.
Her thoughts were finally stopped as she heard the Dark Lord calling her.
"Bella, get your wand out; we are going to visit those ugly little goblins to get the objects I previously asked you to keep in the vault." The authority in Voldemort's voice was still the same as the last time Bellatrix had heard him.
Bellatrix blinked rapidly, and she forced herself to focus on Voldemort's command. Now was the time to obey Voldemort and not think about her desire.
That was for another time.
Her emotions quickly took over her manic energy as she began to walk alongside her master.
As it was still dawn, the street of Diagon Alley was completely deserted, and all the different shops were closed. The only building that showed signs of life was the destination of the Dark Lord. Voldemort and Bellatrix reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors was a goblin wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold.
The moment the goblin recognized the two figures walking up the marble stairs, he stiffened. His pointed ears twitched, and his eyes widened in unmistakable shock.
Bellatrix was tempted to teach the goblin a lesson in proper respect.
The fool hadn't even bowed.
A flick of her wand and she could have him prostrating on the steps in a heartbeat, perhaps bleeding just a little for his insolence. But since her master did not even cast a look at the foul creature, Bellatrix let it go and followed closely behind Voldemort.
The goblin was not even aware of how close to torture he was.
Once inside, they approached the second set of doors, this time silver, with a goblin by each side. The doors carried the poem warning of dire retribution to potential thieves.
Enter, stranger, but take heed...
Voldemort didn't spare the warning a glance and continued forward. Just like the one at the entrance door, these two goblins froze upon seeing the supposedly 'dead' dark lord walking inside.
Voldemort stepped into a vast marble hall.
About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, and examining precious stones through eyeglasses.
Normally, the goblins behind the counter would not look at the wizard entering the hall, but as it was still early, it was strange for them to have a customer at that time. This caused all of them to raise their eyes and peek a little to identify the individual.
What followed was the sound of coins and ledgers falling on the wooden counter.
Every goblin stared, their wide, black eyes filled with terror as their hands became loose, making the objects they were holding fall.
After the last coin stopped moving, the hall fell silent as if a spell had been cast to snatch away every goblin's voice. They all watched as the dark Lord and the crazy witch walked until they reached the last counter. The goblin behind cursed his luck and, after a few seconds of silence, decided it was better to say something.
"Madam Lestrange!" said the goblin, avoiding the gaze of Voldemort. "Sir! How... how may I help you today?"
"Take me to the Lestrange's vault," said Bellatrix.