"Where have you been?"
"I could ask you the same."
It was 4 o'clock in the morning and it was the first time the Lestranges had seen each other that day. Bellatrix hadn't been home when Rodolphus had left at midnight and Rodolphus hadn't been home when Bellatrix had returned just an hour ago. And now they met in their bedroom, Bellatrix wearing nothing more than a sheer negligee and Rodolphus still wrapped in his black cloak, angrily eyeing each other. They were both covered in marks caused by other people. Rodolphus was the first to notice the dark bruises on her wrists and her thighs.
"Looks like you had a fun night," he stated tonelessly.
"Looks like you did, too." She pointed at a love bite on his neck. He laughed humourlessly, casting off his cloak, and walked to the bed his wife was sprawled out on.
"Was she any good?" Bellatrix asked, her voice as impassive as it would have sounded if she had talked about the weather.
"Very. Not as good as the Dark Lord though, I'm sure," he replied just as nonchalantly and she grinned at him.
"I bet not," she said, running her hands over the bruises and scratches on her thighs while closing her eyes appreciatively. "He was most generous tonight and so much more satisfying than you."
They had played this game several times, teasing and provoking and trying to hurt each other with their affairs. Their respectable pureblood marriage was, and had long been, a scam, a 'joke' as Bellatrix had put it.
"Oh, I don't know. That's not what Miranda said," he said smugly.
Bellatrix' eyes flashed open and there was an angry glimmer in them. Her voice was cold when she spoke.
"Tell me, darling, how much of our money have you already spent on Miranda? Don't you think it's sad that you need a whore to get you off instead of simply having an affair with someone who doesn't get paid to fuck?" she asked sweetly, knowing that she was hitting a nerve with him.
"Miranda has more class than you and believe me, she's worth every single knut," he said and his wife scoffed at his reply.
"Stop playing, Rodolphus, I'm getting tired of this game."
"Now that's interesting. As far as I can remember, you were the one who started it."
"I hadn't actually confirmed having an affair when you went to that whore for the first time," she said, still unaffected by him.
"You didn't have to confirm anything. The marks on your body and the well-fucked appearance you had after your little 'private meetings' were confirmation enough. After all, I'm neither blind nor stupid."
"And here was me thinking you were both," she laughed.
He chuckled darkly, his eyes wandering from her face to her boobs, perfectly visible through the negligee.
"Maybe I am. After all, I'd still like to ravish you right now and here, even though you're covered with another man's marks," he whispered to her, his eyes never leaving her body.
"Mmmh, keep talking like that and I may even let you," she said hoarsely, massaging her breasts to give him a little show.
"Shut up and let me kiss you," he said before pressing his lips on hers and replacing her hands with his.
They may have detested each other, but in the end, they simply weren't able to keep their hands off each other.
Despite it being August, the sky was cloudy and grey and a chill went through Bellatrix as she walked through the narrow side streets of Knockturn Alley. She wrapped her cloak closer around herself and pulled the hood further over her face, in the hope of not being seen or recognised by anyone she knew. She stopped at an unprepossessing building and raised her hand to knock on the wooden door. A small shutter in the door was opened and a harsh and throaty female voice asked: "And wat 'ave we 'ere? Wat can I do for you, dolly bird?"
Bellatrix wrinkled her nose in disgust. The woman's smell of alcohol was perceptible even through the door.
"I wish to speak to Miranda," Bellatrix said, trying to contain her detestation, but failed miserably at it.
"Ah, got a posh one 'ere. Don't nah anyone called Miranda," the woman answered.
"But I'm certain she's working in this…establishment."
"Mhm…lemme see. You mean Madame Chérie?"
"I…yes, I guess I mean Madame Chérie."
The woman didn't answer, but the door creaked open and Bellatrix decided to take a step inside. She was doing her best not to touch anything. The woman waiting behind the door was sparsely dressed in a skintight leopard print dress and wore spiked, black heels.
"She 'as a customer, but will be with you shortly. Jus' wait 'ere," she told Bellatrix and blatantly checked her out from head to toe. "Pretty li'le birdy you are."
"Thank you, but I'm not interested," Bellatrix said coldly, rolling her eyes.
"Too bad. Bu' I got customers anyway."
"Better don't keep them waiting then. I'll just wait here."
"Olrigh', see you. By the way, I'm Amy," the woman replied and walked off, making sure her hips were swaying enough for Bellatrix to follow her with her eyes. Now she was alone, Bellatrix took the time to have a look around the room which was decorated like a cheap bar. There was a thick pile of dust covering the counter and the place was generally quite dirty. There were all kinds of stains on the sofa and she really didn't want to think about where or who they came from. Her nose was still scrunched up in disgust when a woman approached her. She was slightly smaller than Bellatrix and her black curls fell loosely over her shoulders. She couldn't help but notice that there was a striking resemblance between her and that woman, although she was probably around five years younger than Bellatrix. She extended a delicate hand and Bellatrix could feel green eyes curiously eyeing her up.
"Madame Chérie," she introduced herself. "Or Miranda, whatever name you prefer. And you are?"
Bellatrix ignored the hand with a raised eyebrow and said: "Bellatrix. Or Mrs Lestrange, whichever name you prefer."
She watched the woman's expression, but to her surprise, Miranda didn't even so much as blink.
"A pleasure, Mrs Lestrange. That family name sounds pretty familiar."
Bellatrix looked at her in disbelief.
"Yes, that may be because you're sleeping with my husband," she said, wondering if the woman was only playing dumb.
"Ah yes, that rings a bell. Rodolphus, isn't it? Always pays me extra and takes me out for dinner before fucking. Very nice chap."
"Does he now?" Bellatrix whispered dangerously quietly. Miranda, however, didn't seem to have noticed the sudden change in Bellatrix' mood.
"Yeah, not the greatest fuck I've ever had, but definitely one of the better ones. What did you say you wanted again?"
There was a moment of silence when a fat drunken man pushed past them, hungrily eyeing them both up.
"I'd prefer to speak to you in private," Bellatrix said and Miranda rolled her eyes.
"Of course, darling, they all want to 'speak' to me in private." She winked at her and laughed, but Bellatrix didn't chime in, her face blank as before.
"You're not very talkative, are you?"
"I just don't like to converse with whores," Bellatrix replied.
"They do make excellent conversers though." Miranda looked at her, challengingly raised eyebrow and a mischievous smile on her lips. "But if you wish, of course you can have your privacy, Mrs Lestrange."
She waved her hand in the direction of one of the many doors in one of the dingy and dirty hallways leading away from the bar room, and Bellatrix followed Miranda as she walked in the direction she had pointed. The noises coming from the closed doors to their left and right made it quite clear what kind of establishment they were in and Bellatrix once again wrinkled her nose. The room Miranda led her to was small and contained nothing but a large bed which took up about three quarters of the room.
"Make yourself comfortable," she said, but Bellatrix objected.
"There's no need for that, I think. The matters I have to discuss with you will only take a few minutes."
"Whatever. You're the paying customer."
Bellatrix laughed and said: "Paying? I highly doubt that. You're not even worth my time, much less my money!"
Miranda's pretty face was shortly scrunched up in anger before it relaxed again and she sat down on the bed, crossing her legs.
"I'm pretty sure it's Rodolphus' money you're spending. And if I'm not worth your time, then why are you here?"
"You have absolutely no right to call him Rodolphus! He's my husband and you should address your superiors as such!" Bellatrix called furiously. Miranda snorted with laughter and teased Bellatrix: "My superiors? Yah, I shall do so when I see one."
Bellatrix was appalled at the girl's imprudence and missing respect. She wasn't used to being treated like this, especially not by someone younger.
"Do you even know who you're talking to?" she asked, her voice trembling with anger, but Miranda only scoffed.
"Oh please, don't give me that shit! I'm not afraid of being killed. You probably have no idea how many death threats I get each day by women whose husbands are only looking for a bit of fun in their boring and miserable lives; or how many of your...let's call them 'colleagues' walk in and out of here every day. If you wanted to kill me, you would've already done it."
"I just want you to stop whatever sordid little liaison you have with Rodolphus!"
"I'm afraid I won't do that. You forget, Mrs Lestrange, that he's the one coming here. I'm merely doing my job and I'm not going to turn away a paying customer. Simple as that," Miranda explained and opened one of the drawers in the small cabinet next to the bed, fishing out a packet of cigarettes, and slipped one out of the box and between her lips, lighting it with a lighter and deeply inhaling the smoke. Bellatrix knew that this girl held a certain power over her. She couldn't even threaten her properly, because about half of the male Death Eaters she knew were regular visitors to this brothel.
"Why would you care anyway? As far as I've heard, from several sources even, you haven't exactly been faithful yourself. Tell me, is the Dark Lord any good in bed?"
"That is hardly any of your business," Bellatrix replied coldly, her patience wearing down quickly.
"Aren't you a bit of a hypocrite, ma'am? I mean, you have everything." She shrugged her shoulders. "You're sleeping with the Dark Lord, every single male Death Eater would like to kill you for your favourable position as much as they would like to fuck you, and your husband...well, he's coming here every so often to make sweet, albeit quite rough, love to me, but it's not as though you're not getting your fair share of him either."
"My husband is certainly not making love to you," Bellatrix said through gritted teeth.
"You see, Mrs Lestrange, basically we're not that different from each other." Bellatrix scoffed at that. "Except that I'm getting money for my services and you're getting the spot as the Dark Lord's favourite. And in the end, Rodolphus knows that I'm not you, never will be, and that's why you will never lose him, no matter how often you crawl into another man's bed."
"But I'm not a whore, unlike you."
Miranda shrugged again, inhaling the smoke of her cigarette before blowing it into Bellatrix' direction. "Men don't care. But Rodolphus...he was so full of rage when he first came here, so hurt. You might have broken his heart back then."
"You don't know a thing about Rodolphus and me," Bellatrix snapped at her. "You will stop sleeping with him or else-" She paused, before her face lit up triumphantly, "Or else I will tell the Dark Lord how much you apparently know about our Cause. How much the men in his ranks tell you about his plans when they're not busy...copulating with you. I'm sure he won't be too pleased, neither with them nor with you. So if you would prefer not to die or lose most of your customers, I suggest you will not see my husband anymore."
Bellatrix knew she had won. Miranda's face had hardened, her eyebrows furrowed, considering her words.
"So I take it we have an agreement?" Bellatrix grinned at her wickedly.
"We do, Mrs Lestrange," Miranda finally said, hesitantly.
"Very well. It was nice doing business with you."
"Bellatrix!" The call echoed through the manor until it reached the library Bellatrix was sitting in. "Bellatrix!"
She sighed, irritated, but got up from the armchair to investigate what her husband wanted from her. He looked angry when he appeared in the doorway.
"Mmh, you look sexy when you're angry," Bellatrix teased him, but instead of playing along, Rodolphus grabbed her wrists, pinning her arms next to her body as he shook her.
"What the-"
"What did you do?" he asked her.
Bellatrix frowned.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. And now let go of me!"
She struggled against her husband's grip, but he was stronger than her, physically at least.
Rodolphus seemed to gather the last bit of composure left in him and said through gritted teeth: "Why is it...that I went into Knockturn Alley...to be refused entry...into the establishment...I regularly visit?"
So that's what this was about. She could barely suppress a little smile forming on her lips.
"I don't understand why this would have anything to do with me."
He tightened his grip and she gasped in pain.
"Don't play dumb with me, Bellatrix!" he roared. "You went there and spoke to her. You did...something to convince her not to see me again."
There was a moment of silence in which Bellatrix considered her options, then she simply said: "Maybe."
"Why?" Rodolphus asked, bewildered.
"Because I don't want to share you, Rodolphus!"
The look on his face only intensified. "I can't believe you're actually being serious. Do you think I want to share you with anyone, Bella?"
"I won't stop sleeping with him."
He let go of her arms and, for a short moment, they looked into each other's eyes, both of them lit with fire, before his mouth came crashing down on hers, pulling her into a passionate and hard kiss.
"Lord, Bella, why are we doing this?" he asked breathlessly.
"Mmh because we're husband and wife perhaps?"
"No, not this. The game playing."
She laughed at him, starting to unbutton his shirt. "Because it's exciting. Now get on the couch and shut up," she ordered him and he readily obeyed.
Yes, they would keep playing this game and Bellatrix would keep winning, like she always did.