Summary: When Bellatrix Lestrange becomes a Death Eater, she finds out that she's in for more than she bargained for when her feelings for Lord Voldemort get in the way. A monologue of years as her lust turns into love. How will she ever find a way to overcome these feelings she's developed? A bit OOC.
Disclaimer: I don't, nor have I ever, owned Harry Potter.
The only difference between love and lust is that love is completely unwanted, uncalled for, and unreliable, while lust is sought after, desirable, and totally under control. Only someone utterly mad would choose to love and not have that love returned, than to simply lust wordlessly. Only those who have simultaneously experienced both would understand that love is too multifaceted to want to mess with. But, more often that not, lust turns into love. That is where the true complexities begin.
I have no love for my husband, and I have no lust for my husband. I only married Rodolphus Lestrange because that was what was expected of me; I had no choice. I had to wed a pure-blood. I couldn't let my family down. For a long time, even after my "special day," I experienced no love or lust… for anyone.
That is, until I joined the Dark Lord. It came as a shock to everyone what I did, especially because I was the first, foremost, and one of the only women ever to do so. But no one was more stunned than I. For the weeks beforehand, all I did was think about whether or not it was what I really wanted to do, become a Death Eater. But there was no denying that it was the right choice for me. I had a thirst for power, a need for command, and a hunger for influence. This was to be my way of life.
As soon as the Dark Mark was imprinted on my forearm, I knew I was in for more than I bargained for. I fingered at it fondly and let a smirk cross my face. I had done it. That's when I decided to look up into my new master's eyes, and he smiled at me. It was a smile that never quite reached his cold, red eyes and that made his face look more callous than ever, but it was a smile nonetheless. And when I saw it, I felt a strange, unexplainable longing. My heart began pounding, and my head began spinning. I was getting urges. I was in lust.
I was not quite sure what it was, exactly, that initially attracted me, but I guessed it was the way his eyes held all his power, and how on his face, one could easily see the sacrifices he made to obtain it. I was awed by everything he went through, from childhood to adult. The Dark Lord impressed me more so than anyone else could ever. He was so feared that no one ever even dared to speak his name.
My urges only grew stronger after that, but I just went about my daily life, killing and torturing those who deserved it. There was nothing else I could do. Every time I saw him (which was quite a lot), my stomach tightened. I tried to keep my eyes on the ground, but the Dark Lord demanded that I look at him when I speak to him. So I did. Every time. And, every time, my head would snap up, and my lips would curve into an involuntary smile. I was losing my mind.
Over time, my feelings changed and grew. I realized many months later that my urges were no longer only physical, but emotional as well. Emotion wasn't supposed to accompany lust! It was then that I realized I had fallen in love. With the Dark Lord. With my master. And there was nothing I – or anyone else, for that matter – could do about it.
After that, my feelings merely festered away at my heart. I grew more angry and emotional with each passing day, and when it came time for me to perform an Unforgivable Curse, I screeched it at the top of my lungs, willing my wand to cause as much pain as possible. It was my way of venting, of trying to let go. I was miserable, so why should anyone else get to be cheerful and alive?
On one occasion, when I was particularly aggravated, I tortured a couple – Frank and Alice Longbottom, both of whom were with the love of their life – into insanity. I greatly enjoyed watching them suffer and stayed a moment too long. Before receiving my life-sentence in Azkaban, I vowed that the Dark Lord would come back for me, and I knew that he would. His most faithful servant, he had called me. Even though I was never able to say good-bye, I wasn't worried; I knew that the words I had spoken were true.
And sure enough, after the longest years of my life, he came back. I would gladly give up my memories of Azkaban, but I know that I will never be able to forget them. Being away from the one I loved had driven me completely mad. I couldn't stand sitting in that cellar, not knowing how long it would be before I could see his dazzlingly harsh smile or hear his brilliantly merciless laugh again.
When I saw his face, I didn't dare believe that it was finally true. I thought I must have died and gone to heaven, though how I ended up in heaven, I couldn't fathom. As soon as I worked out that I was alive and well, it was all I could do to keep from crying out. The Dark Lord… returned at last… I felt dizzy and weak in the knees.
That's when I did it; I couldn't hide my love any longer. I threw caution to the winds and just did it. I placed my hands on the back my master's neck and held them there. Then, before I could chicken out, I put my lips against his. And held them there. For but a moment, after I let my lips open ever so slightly, I felt him kiss me back. I closed my eyes and got lost in the moment. But then I felt him pull away.
I had prepared for this, but that didn't make it any easier. I held in a sigh and opened my eyes. The Dark Lord muttered my name, but more so to himself than to me. I waited, and he told me that he couldn't do this, that he was the Dark Lord, and that he had filth to clean up and so did I. I nodded throughout his speech, not really listening. Most of my energy was put into not letting any tears escape, for I was Bellatrix Lestrange. I did not cry.
I don't wish that I hadn't done what I did, because then I would have spent the rest of my life wondering. I'm at least grateful that I know, that I can live without the constant nagging in the back of my mind. But there is something that I'd like to change. They say that it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I wish that I had never lusted at all.
