Rodolphus crept quietly through the front door, trying to escape unnoticed by the shrewd eye of his—
"What the hell happened to you?" Bellatrix was in a chair by the fire, twirling her wand lazily between her fingers. Damn. She smirked at him.
"Nothing," he muttered, ducking his head to hide his blackened eye. But she had already seen it – that and his torn robes and bloodied lip, and what looked like a deep scratch across his chest. She rose from her chair, as regal as a queen, and her smirk widened.
"You can't lie to me," she said, and it was true. She was a highly skilled Legilimens, a skill he could never hope to match. She caught his arm and forced him to face her. "What happened?"
"I had a talk with Greyback," he grunted, wrenching himself from her grasp.
She raised an eyebrow. "A talk?" She sounded so pleased. Rodolphus wanted to strangle her. "Oh, Rod, don't tell me you fought him bare-handed."
"It was only meant to be a talk," he said furiously. "But the things he was saying about you… And the brute hasn't got a wand…"
Her eyes widened. "So you weren't trying to defend your own honor, then?" Her voice was mocking. "You were trying to defend mine?"
His rage exploded, and he shoved her away from him. "Yes. Yes, you ungrateful bitch, although I don't know why I bother. You don't care. You don't care for your own reputation, and you care even less for mine – do you know what this makes me look like? Running about after a wife I can't control, trying to erase her infidelities-?"
"I'm not yours to control," she snapped. But then she paused, looking pensive for a moment. He found himself breathing quite heavily, and he turned away from her. "No, come here. Let me see this mess you've made of yourself."
"You can't do healing spells worth a damn. You're too fond of destroying things," he complained, turning back towards her nonetheless. She strode off and he heard her going through cabinets, and she returned with a small bottle of Essence of Dittany.
She silently dabbed the brown potion on his wounds, watching them heal before her eyes. She touched a drop of it to his lip before finally speaking again.
"Are you ashamed of me, Rodolphus?"
He laughed harshly, humorlessly. "Shame doesn't resonate with you, Bella. You reject shame like you've cast a charm against it. I should be ashamed of you, but I can't be." He took the potion from her and set it on a table behind him, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her against him. "I'm ashamed of myself, I suppose. People see me as weak."
She pressed her forehead against his chest, unusually affectionate. She could never apologize, she would never – it wasn't her nature. But her movements were softer than usual. "Men who prefer submissive women are weak," she said dismissively. "They need pretty little dolls to assert their masculinity. It's pathetic."
"Like Lucius?" Bella's eyes narrowed at the name of her sister's husband. She was fiercely protective of Narcissa, and she never bothered to hide the fact that she held Lucius in low regard. Rodolphus changed the subject. "And what of men who prefer their women completely mad?"
"Fools," she said, and if Rodolphus didn't know better he would think she sounded sad.
"I suppose I can't argue with that," he sighed.