The Many Moods of Voldemort and Bellatrix

Cookie #1: One step up, two steps back

Bella closed her eyes tightly and sighed. The man moving above her, deep in the throes of his own passion, rejoiced at her encouragement, and whispered her name between hardly drawn breaths, each of them a bit shorter than the previous one. His face was a study in tension, effort and pleasure; supporting himself with one arm on either side of her, he stared blankly into the wall he was facing, not looking at her yet, so as to gain a measure of control. She thought she heard an endearing of some form, but on second thought it was probably one of these sleazy monikers he inflicted upon her during those sessions. He seemed to like the verbal humiliation more than the act itself, and he often gave the impression of imagining she shared the same kink.

If only he knew. Bella hadn't sighed out of extenuating, blissful delight. She was bored. She was horribly bored, actually. She wanted to get up and go for a stroll in the park. Even a fishing tour in the nearby lake, notoriously devoid of all life forms, seemed a better idea. She could count at least three thousand occupations that would satisfy her more. Her husband, Rodolphus, had been more interested in men from the start of their arranged marriage, and as much as she liked his wit and brilliance as a friend, he didn't even try to pretend he had some flair for entertaining any part of her different from her mind. He had gotten really popular amongst the Death Eaters for offering to share his wife with one or more of them at any given meeting, and of course he was getting something in return too. She could only imagine that Malfoy's son recently turning eighteen had something to do with the platinum blond hair that was now brushing her chest and her neck.

She opened her eyes again, looked up at Lucius. The man wasn't bad looking, but there was not much more to him. She remember having a measure of fun the now distant night when she was instructed to entertain him, Avery and Snape at the same time. Some creativity had found its way in the routine, basically thanks to the Hogwarts Potions Master. But that one was out of the picture now. At least he had exuded some real power, from time to time. And that was not too often.

Power. Bella sighed again, thinking of what she'd seen during the war. The pain. The constant booming sounds. The ignited seas, turning dark red when thunderstorms came and wiped the blood off the ground. The disposable minions on both sides, the slaughtering and the slaughtered, the pettiness and betrayal, in their ranks and in the enemy's ranks. The flashes of green light. The threats, the panic, the endless suffering. The torturing. She relaxed against the pillows, light-headed, with a knot in her lower stomach, sweating, hot, pierced by something that had nothing to do with her companion. If only it wasn't just in her mind. If only.

She could recall the one fateful night. Sitting in a tent on top of the hill, moments before he stood and stepped out, distant, steel and ice for their troops, unsettling and dominant, ordering with a single word an apocalyptic charge. The valley swarming with armed men in seconds, and him towering over the world with the determination of absolute command, that controlled, yet wild claim on everything there was to claim. When a messenger had delivered the news that Rodolphus had been wounded and could die, she had sat on the ground, grasping for thoughts, for an ounce of pity and concern to extract from her awed senses. While her husband struggled for life on the battlefield, he, the incarnation of all power, had sat behind her, held her from behind, whispered words that she could never forget, and slipped his hands under her robes, brought her back to awareness, made her cry out in delirium. She threw her head back in abandon, and murmured, almost silently, "My Lord". She didn't see a pair of grey eyes snap open, tinged with curiosity and some undernote of fear, now mere inches from her face.

She wanted him in his full wrath, the fierce fury that could make all that was known obey him, or crumble to dust. She wanted him to cajole her, trick her into trusting his sweetness, and then make her suffer, make her burn with longing, chained against a wall, and then split her open. She wanted that dark flame of his that had thousands dead, and the rest on their knees. Then she wanted him to hold her, kiss her, cuddle her, trick her again, make her see everything he could do, make her beg and whine for it, suspend her, punish her, reward her.

The thoughts were too much. She screamed, awash with desire and ecstasy. Malfoy, puzzled by her unusual reaction yet too close to his own release to think, little knew that he had nothing to do with it.

Cookie #2: Foolish Wand Waving (not a sequel, different scenario)

It was three in the morning at the Black manor. Narcissa lay on her large bed, her dark blue nightgown pulled up around her waist, her blonde hair disheveled, her legs spread as wide as they would go.

Between said legs was the dark head of her sister Bellatrix. The head stood still for a few seconds, then was joined by a pair of hands, promptly put to the task of eliciting high-pitched noises from Narcissa with systematic, detached movements, as if they were probing for bruised spots or unhealed cuts. Which they were.

"Hey! Be careful there! It hurts a hell of a lot!"

Bellatrix retracted, standing up close to the bed. She was trying hard to stifle a laugh.

"I'm sorry, sister. Didn't mean any harm. You look like crap down there."

Narcissa shot her a furious look. "Thanks for telling me, Bella. I did know. I feel like crap also, thank you very much. Now, might I remind you that you were called here to help me, as opposed to embarrass me? I can't cast spells worth shit with this pain, and anyway i have no idea of how to deal with that."

"Well, I think it needs a skin regenerating charm. I'm not quite sure it is going to work on the inside, but I can try and perform it. Still, you're not getting it for free".

Narcissa scowled. Why did she end up the only blonde in a family full of cunning, evil dark-haired wizards? She felt like she was getting the short end of the stick. Which, in her current circumstances, was more than appropriate.

"There's no fun in this game, Bella. You already won. I can't stand this any longer and I'm not calling Mom or a house-elf to take care of it. Not under any circumstance. So please blurt out whatever the hell you want and cast the bloody charm".

Bella grinned in a disquieting manner. "I thought you had enough blood on you as it is. You can be healed, but I want the whole story." Her face was fixed in an exaggerated smile, while Narcissa's was running the full range of colors allowed to a blonde. She had hoped for a small sum of money, heck, even a big sum of money, but the whole story... To hell, she had no chance.

She drew in a very long breath and spoke.

"Wosavinsexwilucanetridusisuand".

Bella exhibited an even larger grin and prodded Narcissa strategically where she was at her most sore.

"Sister, this isn't going to work. We have all night. I'll just keep on annoying you until you spill the beans."

"Right, right, you win. But let me make this mercifully brief. Lucius was here until half an hour ago. He keeps on wanting to screw me, but as I have told you he is not really confident with the mechanics of the thing. He's been told about foreplay by one of his stupid mates, and he thought that he would try something with his wand. And, before you ask, yes, the one he bought at Ollivander's. Thirteen inches, flexible, etcetera. I'm not in the mood for metaphors, and they won't hold in the specific context anyway. Anyway he... er... inserted the wand where he should really have inserted something else. While he was experimenting, he said something idiotic about how he had been practicing a very cool - his words, sure enough not mine - spell to create fireworks. Needless to say, he just had to say the words for the spell out loud."

Bellatrix opened her mouth, sure she would never close it again. She cast the healing spell on Narcissa just in time, before falling victim to a laughing spree that drove her first to her knees, then directly on the floor, shaking and convulsing.

Narcissa, profiting from her recovered health, stood up and thought of kicking her sister in the ribs. Then she remembered that she had to at least pretend to be grateful. Actually, she was: the predicament had been honestly horrible. If only she didn't have to marry Lucius Malfoy... damned family arrangements. But then, HA! Bellatrix wasn't better off. And it looked like the right time to remind her.

"Dear sister, if I were you I would stop acting like you're at the funniest party of your life. Lucius might not be the brightest boy at Hogwarts, or out of Hogwarts for that matter, but may I remind you that you are promised to Rodolphus Lestrange, who is... let's see... interested in improper use of other lads' wands? Or, to state it bluntly, a flaming queen who dresses in bright orange skirts when he thinks nobody's looking? And do you need reminding also that I am not stupid and that your room is right beside mine? I am under the impression that those noises you make at night don't come from self-gratification, and you don't seem to realize that if word gets out that at 16 you have a lover who is not your fiancé you will be deemed a slut and excluded from inheritance or marriage by every hypocritical Black, Malfoy, Nott, Avery and whatever other name you can think of. Is this enough to make you stop laughing?"

Bella looked at her sister through misty eyes, still kind of gleeful. "Well, Rodolphus is as ridiculous as Lucius, but he doesn't hurt me, accidentally or not. And speaking of the "not" part, my lover is none of your business. I warn you, but that's only because I need to have further opportunities of making fun of your absurd boyfriend and your hair. If word ever gets out about me and him, heads will fall - and I mean literally - so there will be plenty of inheritance and very few marriages. So keep your blonde mouth shut and relax about my reputation. He's going to get rid of anyone who annoys us in five sweet seconds." With that, she added "Very sweet" and her eyes drifted from amused to dreamy. She started to walk to the door, carried by some deep thought.

Narcissa couldn't believe her ears. "Hey! Bella! Get back here. You're talking like a knave in a tavern, for Merlin's sake. " She started on a decent mockery of the drawl that was heard in disreputable places like the Hog's Head, where of course Lucius just loved to take her. To show her he was a big man, or something.
"Oi, don't ye mess with ma busness or my bad-ass shag is going to come and rip ya ta pieces. Hear me Merlinfucker? Ye're in trouble."

Narcissa reverted to her real voice.

"What kind of idiot has planted that attitude in your head? Are you sleeping with Crabbe? Goyle? Both?". Oh, she was enjoying revenge for the earlier mockery!

"And they tell you they're going to beat everyone to death if you're found out? Like, Dad or Mr. Lestrange walks in on you, and what does little Crabbe do? Bite their head off? Get off your high horse, sister! You sound like you think you're screwing the damn Dark Lord himself!"

Bellatrix turned to Narcissa, smug satisfaction in her eyes.

"You know what, sister? I am. And he's a prodigy with wandless magic."