For the writing challenge
Disclaimer: All publically recognised characters do not belong to me, but to the writer J.K. Rowling. This publication is for entertainment purposes only and no profit shall be made from it.
A/N: Secrets are a dangers thing. And for Bellatrix they were her ultimate downfall. The title, Frigus Secreta is latin and translates into Cold Secrets.
He was a handsome lad. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Dark soul. She was attracted to him as a moth was to a flame. But he never knew. Never even tried to know. Never even took the time to see that Bellatrix Lestrange was hiding a very dark secret. Oh Rodolphus did. Beat her every night for it. But he never knew. With his dark hair, dark eyes, dark soul, he never even knew. Oh but he knew, light hair, light eyes light skin. Sharp eyes he had, sharp eyes. He knew what Miss. Bellatrix Lestrange was hiding. Beneath her bruises and hatred. Beneath her madness and her lies. Beneath her unfathomable loyalty. He knew the thing she tried to deny for years, the thing that destroyed her. The thing that destroys all those who deny what they want. The thing that destroyed them both in the end. Oh yes, his light eyes were sharp, and cunning and they saw it all. They saw her wanton eyes and her twitching arms. He saw the tears when she came to his wife. He saw behind the madness that drove her daily to do a madman's bidding with no question or qualm. He saw her love. He saw the dark hair, dark eyes dark soul and knew. He knew his master would never love her, never hold Bellatrix as she wished to be held. He pitied her dearly. Pitied her heart as he pitied his own. There was no love between him and Narcissa. And in the absence of love comes a primal need. And a primal need is what consumed them both when they found each other's arms and gave the reluctant comfort they refused to except from their significant others. This started early. Before his son was born, but they were careless and young and Rodolphus was enraged. His wife loved not him, but his master and yet she found herself in the arms of her sister's husband? He beat them both and swore they would not tell a soul. When her large dark eyes and clustered mane had found themselves clutching to her sister, she found she could not say. For to say was to reveal all. And to Bellatrix, that was the worst of all. Knowing that her sister loved her so, knowing that her sisters love had gone to waste as hers had done for all her years of worry and misery and grief and pain and everything else on heaven and earth that hurt like the pits of hell. So they told not a soul and it ate her up inside to hide it all so well and bare the pain of unrequited love. It ate her heart, it ate her mind, till the end of it all when she was nothing but a carcass with a pulse.
Though her eyes would glint sometimes with pain. With the knowledge and intelligence of a love lost. A love that destroyed all and a secret never told.