Lonely Darkness

Lonely Darkness

He brushes her hair. He brushes her long black mane that hangs straight and glossy on her shoulders. She reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair. Black like hers, but unlike her own beautiful locks, his hangs lank with grease.

The room is dark; the only light comes from a shuttered window. It casts thin beams of light through the room that you can see dust floating in. Everything is so still. The man sits on the edge of a bed in front of a floor length mirror. The woman sits between his feet. He brushes her hair. The scene radiates tranquillity.

The silver-backed hairbrush is bright against the black. The only sound is the soft swish of the man brushing. Then the man lays the hairbrush with almost exquisite care on the bed. The woman turns.

"Why do you stop? Don't." It is a command. The man looks down and then away. "Severus? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." There is certainly nothing in his voice that speaks of a desire to continue the conversation. The woman stands up and walks over to a mahogany wardrobe. She opens it and takes out a dressing gown. Slipping it over her thin nightdress, everything in her movements speaks of irritation. She does not like his answer. The man turns to her, opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again and speaks.

"Bella..." The woman pays him no attention. He tries again. "Bellatrix... it is a beautiful name." He glances at her. Still nothing. "Much like you."

"Flattery does not suit you, Severus. Stop trying to distract me. My question still stands. What is wrong?" The man gets up from the bed and walks over to Bellatrix. She turns to face him, impatience stamped all over her features. "Nothing, you say. When it comes to your actions the reason is never just nothing. So tell me, have you found someone else? Is that the reason for your nothing? Or shall I look for the answer elsewhere?"

"Simply amazing. You manage to read a wealth of meaning into a single word. Give yourself a prize." Severus turns away and walks towards the window. Bella smirks into the mirror; for some reason she is apparently pleased that she managed to provoke such a response. She flicks the ends of her hair and goes over to the far side of the room where an ornate dresser stands. She pulls open one of the drawers and takes out a box, carries it over to the bed and opens it. The man watches from the window, a bored look on his face.

Bellatrix takes from the box a simple white mask. She puts it on and looks at her reflection in the mirror, seemingly enjoying the contrast of the mask and her hair. With a simple glance at Severus, she asks for his opinion. His face is completely blank, giving nothing away. Disappointed, she takes off the mask and replaces it in the box.

"When is the next meeting?" She puts the box in the drawer and shuts it gently. Having asked her question she looks over at him, waiting for a reply. "You don't have to say that much. You can use sign language if you really want to."

"You know as well as I do that the next meeting is tomorrow evening. If you want to start a conversation I suggest you try something less obvious." He moves away from the window and crosses over to her. "Bella." He stands opposite her and takes her hands. "I hope you are aware that that the current situation is not unchangeable. You are an intelligent woman; otherwise I wouldn't have bothered with you. There are other ways, Bellatrix."

"What are you talking about?" Bella's face is half hidden in the shadowy room, but she displays a pleasure that seems to come from the fact that Severus has started the conversation for a change. "What's not unchangeable? Do you want me to tell Rodophus about our little... friendship?"

"Do you enjoy what we do, serving the Dark Lord? Do you enjoy murdering and torturing Muggles and Mudbloods? Do you want this to continue?" Severus demands looking her full in the face and not letting his gaze leave hers. Bellatrix appears slightly disturbed by the topic, and she gives her lover a curious look.

"Why do you ask? We are doing the magical world a favour by ridding it of those unfit and unworthy to exist. Surely you cannot dispute the fact that we are far superior to them in every way. Our blood is purest; we have gone to every length over the centuries to ensure this. We are meant to rule. Why should we have to put up with hiding from Muggles, those who would hate us and seek to destroy us if they knew? Muggles have not changed much since the days when they burnt others alive because they believed them to be in possession of magical talents. We have hidden long enough."

She stares at Severus, suspicion in her eyes. Pulling her hands from his grasp and backing away, she asks him, "Why are you asking this? Surely you are not considering leaving us to join the Muggle-loving idiots who have allowed wizarding blood to become so polluted in the first place? Surely you would not. You have more sense then that. If you lack that sense, you know what happens to those who betray the Dark Lord. You would not want to suffer that, and I will not defend you."

"Don't be foolish. I asked only out of a desire to know you better, nothing else." His voice is suddenly hard and cold.

"There's no need to lose your temper, Severus." He snorts and walks over to the door. She looks down. "When will I see you again?

"Tomorrow evening, at the meeting." His voice is flat and emotionless. She glares at him.

"You are well aware that I did not intend it in that sense. I don't have to spell it out for you, do I?" She sounds annoyed that he has deliberately misinterpreted her question.

"I will not be meeting you privately again." It is a simple statement.

"Why not?"

"I have my reasons. I see no reason to share them with you." He turns away from her and takes the door handle. She looks down, a spasm of pain crossing her well-formed features.

"Fine," she snaps "I don't care. I'm sure I can find someone else. After all, as you yourself said, I am beautiful. Someone else will not be as ungrateful." She has her back to him and he has his back to her, missing his expression. For a split second sorrow etches lines on his face.

"Goodbye." He leaves, shutting the door. Bellatrix looks down at the bed. At the hairbrush. She picks it up and starts twirling it in her fingers. Then she starts to brush her hair.