A/N: Inspired by the song "Death of Me" by Red. It turned out much darker than I thought it would. But when dealing with Bellatrix, how can it not be dark?
Brief Bellamort moment inside.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of Madame Rowling, not me.
Death of Me
"My Lord." "Master." "The Dark Lord." "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." "His Lordship."
Bellatrix called him many things, and each time she said any one of those names, another small sliver of her soul was lost to darkness.
She had been beautiful once, dark, always dark, but beautiful. She'd been happy once, had friends once, all united in a common hatred. But after she'd found her master, her angel, she'd lost her beauty, and her happiness. All that remained was the dark that had always lingered in her heart.
Her insane devotion to her master always paid of in her mind.
"My faithful." "My devoted." "My best." "Bella." "Sweet Bella." "My Bella."
All his sickly slick words drew her even further into his grasp, deeper into her twisted love for him.
She'd loved him always, and now she loved him only.
To hell with her filthy Dromeda, her werewolf loving niece, her loyal but stupid Sissy, her cowardly brother-in-law, her spineless nephew. To hell even with her mindless husband.
There was only him.
As she stood before him, helping in his plans to topple the world and replace it, she ached with admiration, burned with longing.
He noticed and relished every second. "Is there something wrong, my Bella?"
Her burning increased, and she gave her crazed, crooked smile. "Nothing that wasn't already wrong with me, Lord."
He rose from behind the grand table in the Malfoy Manor study. "You ache with devotion for me."
"Always, Lord."
He came to her, sliding his long fingers over her face, and she felt herself shiver in ecstasy. "I will reward you, my Bella."
She shuddered in anticipation.
He kissed her forcefully, powerfully, possessively, and she of course let him lead, following his direction.
She moaned loudly, wanting more, wanting him, wanting him to take her.
But he broke away, returning to the table. "You may go now Bella."
She bowed as low as she could, and backed out of the doors, panting in overwhelming passion. She passed Lucis, who was on his way into the study. He gave her an odd look, but wisely said nothing as she danced madly away.
She would never realize or care that she was merely his toy, although she was his queen, his queen to do as he pleased with.
She would never care that he was the destroyer of her soul. That he would be the death of her.
End
