Yet their smiles had faltered when the court had discovered Bellatrix Lestrange strung from her bed, with blood dripping from open veins in her wrists. She'd crowed before them all that she would tame the young Riddle through infatuation - through love - and none had doubted her. She’d always been disturbingly passionate about her ideas, just as she was in bed, as most among them knew. (Lucius was fortunate enough not to, aware enough of the madness that ran through the Black line. He’d rejected a betrothal to Bellatrix’ sister, Narcissa, allowing the honor to pass to his younger brother, Draco, instead).