One-shot for the Rival Ships Challenge set up by Jg Rox.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters belong to JKR, though I doubt she'd ever do this to them :P

Darkness

Her odd fascination with him began while he was still in school, and while she was still low in the Dark Lord's ranks. At first he was just someone to notice, always standing near her disgrace of a cousin and that Potter boy. There was another boy with them, but her eyes always swung back to him, as though magnetised.

Rodolphus noticed eventually, and was jealous. Though the idea of her wanting Remus Lupin was laughable. As she pointed out to her boyfriend, Lupin was not particularly handsome. Yet she couldn't stop staring …

It was his eyes. Within his usually-affable expression his eyes shone like a beacon of suffering, anger and darkness. There was something cruel, something evil, aching to get free in Lupin's heart. She could tell. And she yearned for it.

She had always been attracted to darkness.

When she approached him, her excuse was that she might be able to recruit him, perhaps as a spy for their Lord. One could never underestimate the value of having one of theirs in the enemy's midst.

But that wasn't the real reason, not at all.

He was seventeen, she was twenty-six. Some might be bothered by that.

Fools.

He was alone, for once, in Diagon Alley. She didn't know where her cousin had gone, or his little fan club, but it suited her purposes. She came up behind him, swathed in her best winter cloak as snow fell softly around her.

"You look lonely," she purred in his ear.

He spun around, startled.

"Who are you?" he asked, rudely, before taking in her appearance. His eyes widened and blood flooded into his cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, clearly unused to talking to beautiful women. "Do I, uh, know you?"

"We've never been introduced," she said, smiling widely. "But I've seen you around, many a time."

His eyes glanced briefly down her body before they flickered back to her face. She felt a thrill of triumph, and of excitement, flash through her. Teenage boys were so easy to seduce.

But she couldn't help but feel that she was the one being seduced. Those eyes just kept drawing her in. She saw a hunger in them, and that glint of darkness. All it took was a glint, and she was transfixed.

"We could know one another," she whispered, making sure that their gazes locked.

"E-excuse me?" he murmured, hoarsely. She bared her teeth in a slightly malicious smile at his unease, and reached across the narrowing gap between their bodies to trail a long, sharp fingernail down his cheek. It left a visible trail of lightly broken skin, and he shuddered.

The darkness in his eyes almost seemed to consume him in the face of his desire. And she wanted him. And he would be hers.

"Remus! Who's thi–" She heard the playful reprimand and spun around at the familiar voice. The happy expression on Sirius' face contorted into a look of hatred as he recognised her.

"Bellatrix," he spat. "What are you doing here?"

"Just... enjoying myself," she said, trailing her hand along Remus' arm to emphasise her words.

"What?" Sirius looked disgusted. "Remus, what...?"

"I think I'm missing something," said Remus, looking far more uncomfortable and confused than he had been only moments before. Bella hissed in frustration when his eyes cleared and the darkness retreated. She needed it.

"This is my dear cousin, Bellatrix Black," said Sirius scornfully. "She's very supportive of Voldemort's cause, I'm told. In fact, I heard rumours that she's made it official." His eyes flickered to her covered forearm.

Remus took a hasty step away from her, and she was surprised that, despite her beautiful cloak, she felt suddenly cold.

"At least I am not a traitor," she told him, but even to her own ears the retort sounded weak. She felt an odd burning behind her eyes, which was ridiculous. Bellatrix Black does not cry, has never cried and will never cry. And what was Remus Lupin to her? She had watched him a long time, but never had she approached. She desired him, that was all.

"I think we have very different views on what makes a traitor, Bella," Sirius answered calmly. "I left my family, but you all betrayed wizard kind, human kind and common decency." His eyes flickered briefly to Remus, who was by then shuffling his feet awkwardly and trying to remain unnoticed. "Robbing the cradle now, are we?"

"Why, Sirius?" she sneered. "Jealous?" Her eyes flicked suggestively to Remus.

Sirius turned brick red while Remus looked confused. "Shut up," her cousin snarled. "Come on Remus, we need to go."

"Um..." said Remus, still looking slightly shell-shocked.

"Come on," he repeated, pleadingly. "Please?"

Remus followed him, turning to look back at Bellatrix one last time. He seemed uncertain about whether or not he should acknowledge her, but finally nodded.

She curled her lip in contempt and turned away.

One day, she told herself. One day he shall be mine.

Whenever a battle was fought between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters, she would watch him. He fought fiercely, aggressively, with anger and hate burning in his eyes and in his soul. His darkness would come alive, and she would feel a tug at her heart, a longing. But she never fought him. She told herself it was because she still wanted to use him later. But that wasn't the reason. She was terrified that she wouldn't be able to kill him. That everyone would see her weakness.

Once, when Dolohov had cast a killing curse at Remus – which barely missed – Bella, without thinking, shot a stinging hex at the other Death Eater's arm. He yelped, and yelled "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"That one's mine," she growled back at him, levelling her wand at his face. "You will not touch him." Dolohov was by far senior to her in rank, having been with the Dark Lord almost from the beginning, but he still backed away from her then. She was feared.

She wasn't sure, even then, whether she meant that she would be the one to kill Remus Lupin, or something else.

She thought, when she was fighting, she could sometimes see Remus glancing at her, watching her. She thought she saw both hatred and desire in his gaze. She despised yet revelled in the former, and longed for the latter. But, whatever the reason, there was more darkness in his eyes when he looked at her than she had ever seen there before. And it was beautiful.

She thought she saw him there. There, in the crowd, the crowd come to watch the downfall of the mighty Bartemius Crouch – because his son had been affiliating with Death Eaters. Because Barty Crouch Junior had helped torture the Longbottoms into insanity. If for nothing else, it at least gave Bellatrix satisfaction to see Crouch lose his power and holier-than-thou attitude. Another positive was the chance to see Alice Longbottom shrieking in pain.

But going to Azkaban was like going to Hell, except instead of fire there was... confusion, despair. Rodolphus was her husband, and he had been placed in the cell next to hers. She could see him through a crack in the wall. But within weeks he had started talking to himself, months later he stopped talking altogether. He just sat and stared at the wall, sometimes breaking into convulsive shudders or sobbing at nothing.

For over fourteen years, Bellatrix was left alone with her pain. Except when he came to visit

She was never sure if it was a product of her fevered imagination, twisted and distorted by growing insanity, or a piece of … mercy. Mercy from fate, a god, some kind of cruel and negligent guardian angel, at last come to grant her love. She had never loved Rodolphus. How could she? He was spineless, easily manipulated, weak. He always followed her like a lost puppy. To Azkaban.

There was one visit that she sometimes convinced herself was real. It couldn't not be, surely. But her mind was so untrustworthy, at that point. She didn't even know when it was.

That day, he came to her cell. The years had not been kind to him. His brown hair was turning grey, lines of exhaustion creased his face.

But when his eyes met hers, they contained both confusion and fury – intense darkness, just as she had dreamed about, dreams that had saved and tortured her in the long hours of the night.

"Lestrange," he said hoarsely. She wasn't sure if it was a greeting or a realisation. His voice was rough, as though some emotion was just concealed. Pain? Anger? Desire? In her rare moment of lucidity she suspected that it was only madness that allowed her to hope such. She knew, in those times, that she did not look as she had once, a long time ago.

But her wandering mind placed her in a different setting, somewhere warm and comforting, wearing beautiful clothes and looking as she had at twenty-two. At her most beautiful.

The room was richly furnished, with a Persian rug and a roaring fire.

The Dementors must have been called off, a voice in the back of her mind noted. She ignored it.

"Remus," she murmured, in her most alluring tone, sliding up to him. She dimly noticed the iron bars between them, but dismissed them.

He moved away slightly.

"What happened to you?" he whispered.

"Happened, darling? Why nothing happened. Everything is fine," she said, smiling and reached for him through the bars. He made as though to move away again. "No, don't go! Don't! If you go... if you go they'll come back! They always come back..." Her calm and warm little world was beginning to slip away. "Stay awhile, Remus. Stay with me."

He frowned. "I came because I wanted to talk to you about … about Sirius."

"Sirius? Must we? He's a frightful bore, my love. Always saying you shouldn't and you mustn't and that's cruel, Bella. Such a boring little boy."

He found it strange, and oddly sad, watching the woman in the cell chatter away in an airy, conversational tone. He remembered Bellatrix Black. Who wouldn't? She was beautiful, bewitching. Oddly fascinating. He could still remember, with absolute clarity, how much he had longed for her, that day when they met, before he knew who – what – she was. She was a shell of that now, only a shell. Her hair was unkempt and uncontrolled, her skin stretched tightly across sharp bones, her cheeks hollow and sunken, gaunt. But yet, despite her madness, she remained elegant, zealous, her inner fire unquenched. When he looked in her eyes, he could see her darkness, her cruel beauty, still reflected within. They were like … magnets. Twin black holes, sucking him into the void.

He had hated her kind. Hated her, too. She fought them, struck down his friends, everyone. She had done the unthinkable to Frank and Alice.

Yet his eyes had always been drawn to her, even in the heat of battle. She fought like a dancer, as though she was born to do it, and nothing else. Yet she expertly taunted and goaded her opponents into making fatal mistakes. She was … enchanting, in the way that a nightmare weaves its magic around you.

But once, just once, he was sure he had seen her prevent another from killing him. Why?

His eyes remained angry, but they still bored into hers.

"I came here for a reason, Bellatrix," he told her. "And I need you to talk to me."

Her eyes narrowed, suddenly. "Oh, so this is why Remus Lupin comes to visit me, lowers himself to walk in our presence. We are honoured, I'm sure. Aren't we, Rodolphus?" The last was a brief aside to the quiet and motionless man in the next cell. He didn't react., just continued staring into space. She didn't care, either.

"I'm sure," Remus dryly replied. "I need to talk to you about Sirius."

"A traitor," she hissed, furious.

"A traitor," nodded Remus, pain flickering briefly across his face. "But, whatever the evidence, I … have to ask … a traitor to you, or a traitor to me?"

She smiled maliciously, and a slight shiver went down his spine. "Both, I should imagine."

"What do you mean?"

"Well … I don't claim to know all, as I've not been in here as long as dear Sirius, nor have I spoken to him recently. But I hear … I hear he's in a spot of bother. I hear that he's the one led the Dark Lord to his doom, who vanished him from this world – albeit temporarily." Her grin twisted. "That he's the one who told the Dark Lord how to find Harry Potter," she spat at the ground, "in a plan to vanquish my master. Sirius has always been a traitor, didn't you know? He betrayed his family, after all. And you can never trust a man who would betray his own family – he certainly won't hesitate to betray his friends."

Remus nodded, slowly. "That's what I thought. Thank you, Bellatrix." He stood up to leave.

Her malignant glee vanished instantly, and she grabbed at his hand through the bars, her long and filthy fingernails digging into his palm.

She clung to his warmth even as he tried to recoil. "Don't go," she begged. "They'll come back. They'll come back."

She kept repeating the words, They'll come back, in terror, over and over, whispering to him.

He wrenched his hand from her grasp and backed away.

"The Dementors will," he told her, almost sadly. "But Frank and Alice won't. Both are evil facts of life that we simply cannot change. Goodbye, Bellatrix."

He left.

He left her.

The despair crashed over her long before the Dementors drifted back to her cell. The depression made it difficult to breath. She wished with all her heart that he was still there. She could still feel, days later, a slight tingling on her palm, where it had brushed his. She could still see his eyes. His intense darkness.

She began to wish that she hadn't bothered getting her final revenge on Sirius, the lies she had told in her brief lucidity. Perhaps Remus would have stayed a little longer. Perhaps revenge wasn't as important as that.

Remus felt his hopes crushed, completely and relentlessly, in the face of Bellatrix's assertions. Once a traitor, always a traitor. His friend was gone, or had never been. He had never truly known him, it seemed. He had known it, before he had come, but a small hope lingered, relentless. He normally wouldn't trust her, why should he? But all she was saying was what he had all ready known.

She was wasting away. Once strong, once proud. She had been reduced to begging and pleading when he had told her he was leaving. Her hands, grimy and brittle, and reached out and grabbed him in their icy clutches. It was as though she was reaching for his warmth, his life. He could see longing in her gaze, hope, desperation. And something else. Something almost like a twisted form of love. Something carnal, something evil, yet love nonetheless. He had almost grasped her hand in return, almost reached down to sooth her. Brushed her hair from her face, touched her wasted flesh … but he hadn't.

He had pulled away. Retreated. Practically ran away. Reminded them both of the reasons why he could never do that. Frank, and his wife, Alice, who were forever trapped inside their own minds as surely as Bellatrix was trapped in Azkaban. And their son left all alone.

His thoughts felt like betrayal, yet it seemed as though barbed wire had constricted around his heart as he walked away.

But he could not allow himself to give in to darkness.

"We might get a chance to see your cousin again, Bella," Dolohov rasped, as he lay, shuddering, on the floor of the Malfoy's ballroom. They would be moved somewhere more secure soon, but for now they had not the strength to even find a seat. The others lay around Bellatrix, convulsing and crying. They hadn't stood up since they arrived ten minutes ago.

They were finally free. The cold was beginning to recede from their bones and hearts, and Bellatrix's mind felt clearer than it had in years. Good memories, life, came flooding back.

"Why would you think about something like that at a moment like this?" she bit back, quieter than she normally would. Once she would have hexed any who mentioned him. "We're free."

"But so is Sirius," said Dolohov, smirking. "I would love the chance to … congratulate him."

"And rip his limbs off one by one," purred Bellatrix, closing her eyes happily. "I see what you mean. I will look forward to that."

"We'll finally get to kill those we didn't get last time. Moody, Bones, Sirius and his pet werewolf, among others," mused Dolohov.

Bellatrix sat up sharply. "Pet werewolf?"

"That friend of his, Lupin," sneered Dolohov. "Filthy half-human. I can't wait to finally pay him back for that scar he gave me."

Suddenly Bellatrix's new wand was digging sharply into his throat as she snarled, animal like, into his face.

"We talked about this before, Dolohov," she said, her face contorted with rage. "He's mine. I won't tell you a third time."

"So you want you're very own pet werewolf, is that it, Bellatrix?" he sneered, and gasped when the wand dug in deeper.

"No," she whispered, leaning in close. "I want to put that dog down myself."

The werewolf fought hard across the room. The veiled archway stood between them, yet she was aware of exactly where he was in the room. He fought alongside her niece, her blood-traitor of a sister's disgusting half-blood brat.

Bellatrix stayed away, for now. She told herself it was because she wanted to have more time when she taught the bastard a lesson. But when she saw a gash appear on his arm – blood was flowing freely – she shrieked with rage and, without pausing to think, launched herself across the room. She didn't know who had fired the curse, but they would pay.

But as she approached the half-blood whirled around and tried to disarm her. She blocked the spell and quickly took the girl out of the fight with a nasty hex. She'd save her revenge on her sister for another time. She had made the mistake once before of placing revenge above him.

"Tonks!" the werewolf yelled, and flew to the girl's side, flashing Bellatrix a look of hatred.

His eyes were still the eyes of Remus. The struggle of darkness and light, battling for supremacy. The struggle with the inner wolf. Now that she knew he was a werewolf she had expected it to be … different. But it wasn't, it just explained the darkness. It was what made him like her, except he had won the fight against the evil within him. And she had never wanted to.

Her reverie ended when a Stunner flew past her shoulder, and she looked up to see Sirius charging towards her.

She killed him that night, yet it remained somewhat unsatisfying, especially in light of the Dark Lord's wrath. He was displeased.

As she dreamt that night, failing to fall properly asleep due to her aching bones – the Cruciatus is known for its lasting pain, after all – she thought only of Remus, and was displeased with herself.

The room was dark, silent. A small fire glowed in the hearth, dying down. The air was hot and heavy, dry. A dimly lit figure was sprawled in a large armchair, and the light glowing through the amber liquid in her glass.

This was the way Narcissa Malfoy found her at two in the morning.

"Andromeda's daughter is getting married," she murmured to Bellatrix, not sure if she was asleep or not. She moved closer and saw the firelight reflecting in her dark eyes. Bright, angry eyes.

After what seemed to be an age, Bellatrix answered, her voice harsh.

"I know."

Narcissa shivered in fear, but placed a trembling hand over her sister's.

"She's marrying a werewolf."

"I know."

Bellatrix raised her glass to her lips and took one last swig, draining it. She turned to look at her sister, away from the light. But the fire did not leave her eyes. They remained burning.

Narcissa mumbled an excuse and fled from the room, and the woman returned to staring into the flames as they suddenly grew and began licking their way up the chimney, lighting the room.

A roaring fireplace. A long, beautiful wooden table. A large marble mantelpiece. Cloaked figures, seated. The Dark Lord presiding.

"I was talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud." The Dark Lord smiled cruelly.

Bellatrix could feel a tight constriction in her chest, pain.

"She is no niece of ours, my Lord. We – Narcissa and I – have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor," she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, "any beast she marries."

The others laughed, they jeered. She could feel the rage and humiliation pounding through her, the Dark Lord's comments cutting deepest. Dolohov looked especially mirthful. He would pay.

They laughed, until the Dark Lord silenced them.

"Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time," as his gaze fixed upon Bellatrix. She held his gaze, yet tried to keep her pain hidden. She pleaded for forgiveness within the privacy of her mind. If he invaded her thoughts, he would see only sorrow, remorse. She hoped. "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest."

"Yes, my Lord," she whispered fervently. "At the first chance." And she would, gladly. Oh, so gladly.

"You shall have it," he told her, and she heard no more. She was all ready planning it, in detail. The little half-blood bitch would die. Because he was hers.

She never spoke to him, not after that time in Azkaban. But she saw him. In any battle they ever fought, she saw him there. He was always there. And she was always half-delighted, half terrified. What if he...

Anything could happen in a battle. Dolohov knew not to attack him, not now, but the others... accidents could happen. But the half-blood, Andromeda's bastard child, was not there, never there any more. Hiding like a coward. Bellatrix didn't get her chance.

The battle of Hogwarts was the most intense fight she had ever been in. Utter chaos. And she couldn't find him. She searched and searched, but there was no sign. Until.

She could see him. He was battling hard, that bitch near him.

There was no one around her, they hadn't noticed her yet.

"Avada Kedavra."

The girl slumped to the ground, suddenly, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Bellatrix smiled.

"DORA!"

Remus' head whipped around to watch her fall. And his opponent used his distraction to shoot a final curse, which cut through his throat in a spray of blood.

The body of Remus Lupin stood there for a moment, as though the universe itself was shocked, before gravity brought him crashing to the floor.

Bellatrix's smile had frozen on her face. It felt like her heart had stopped beating. She swayed briefly, before whirling around.

"Avada Kedavra," she uttered coldly, and Antonin Dolohov fell, a smile of triumph still apparent on his dead features.

She heard a sputtering sound, and turned to see Remus convulsing and writhing. She rushed to his side.

"Remus," she whispered, grasping his face in her hands, trying to get him to look at her. His eyes were slightly opened, and she thought she could see a glimmer of life still flickering within, even as blood continued to pour from him.

He coughed, suddenly, and blood speckled her cheek, but she did not draw away. She couldn't. His eyes were still like magnets. Holding her in place.

"Remus, I love you," she told him. He let loose a barking laugh, briefly, and a cough, before a croaking sound left his lips, as though he was trying to say something.

"What?" she asked urgently. "What is it?"

But the light – and the darkness, that darkness she had loved from the moment his gaze met hers –faded completely from his eyes, and as she sat and waited for him to answer her, his body began to grow cold.

Her head hurt. Her eyes and throat burned. Her teeth were clenched tight. Her heart felt as though it had been ripped from her chest.

She heard a shout from behind her and, without even thinking, she aimed at them.

"Avada Kedavra."

And they died, silently. She watched the child fall, a mousy-haired sixteen-year-old boy. She laughed, then. It seemed oddly funny, suddenly. The pain mounted in her head, but she continued to cackle.

She gently laid out Remus' body, and then, a mad smile upon her face, she bent down and kissed him once, briefly, lovingly.

The next person she met died too. And the one after. She seemed unstoppable. A brown-haired girl, a blond boy. A greying man. All dead, all at her hand. And she laughed all the while, no one knowing of the heart-break, of the pain, of the ever-increasing darkness.

She wasn't careful enough, she didn't care enough. She was able to take on three children at once, but when her curse narrowly missed a little girl, a Weasley, she was faced with a dumpy woman, a house-wife.

And she laughed.

Laughed until the woman's curse sailed under her arm.

Laughed until her last breath.

Laughed until the darkness faded from her eyes.

A/N: I signed up for this to be challenged, and challenged I was - though possibly slightly more than expected. The idea was to get a pairing that you wouldn't like, but many others who were, for example, Draco/Hermione shippers were told to write a Ron/Hermione. Or vice versa. But what did I get? Remus Lupin/Bellatrix Lestrange. I could've changed, but then I'd hardly be challenged, really xD This was a fun, if terrifying experience. Whatever my feelings about opposing pairings (Lupin/Tonks! Gotta love 'em) the fact is that Bellatrix hates half-breeds, and Remus is a moral person who could not love an evil psychopath. And I couldn't even do it during Hogwarts because Bellatrix is nine years older, and I don't like to deviate from canon (though I will read works that do).

Two of the best characters in the books, together at last ... xD Bella and Remus-freakin'-Lupin. He can't sing, but he's fab;)

I did my best. Please, tell me what you thought, even if you are disgusted by the pairing. Or, indeed, love the pairing O_o I do want to get better, and this was a great way to learn to write about strange things ...