AN: This was a challenge/request. Love you, ronwheezyrox. My little Clarice, it'll all be better soon. Also, one line is inspired by one of Twitch-Hopeless Savage's theories. Ah, my little Bella-worshipping friends!
Heart Rot: Poetry to Scream To
"She groveled like a stupid little bitch," hissed a black-haired woman who was wearing a laced-up black bodice and a leather skirt that clung to her hips like insects to fly paper, a curse to a victim.
"She had to, didn't she," murmured an equally ebony-tressed man, but his own hair hung in hunks that were unruly.
"You let her," the woman snarled, "You let her suck your toes like a wining pig might." She swiped her hand across the dark wood bookshelf and various volumes thumped to the floor in a heap.
He cringed. His hair was allowed to be out of order. His book collection was not. "Pick those up!" he snapped.
She grinned a bit too toothily. "I'm not one of your little students, Snape. You're still Snivellus to me, and Snivellus has no right to slither all over my sister!" Her smile turned sour immediately. "Honestly, you liar. You bloody fuck!"
"Save your voice, Bellatrix," droned the so-named Snape, crossing the room in his dingy leather shoes and stooping to pick up the books, always keeping one eye upward. "You'll want to be sure you can scream at Narcissa when she wakes up."
"You're a liar," continued Bellatrix, ignoring him, staring downward in hatred with a piercing, green glare. "You're not even faithful."
"Bite your tongue, Black," Snape replied tersely, gathering the books into the neat pile and reaching out both hands to collect them.
A meticulously-planted stiletto heel slammed atop the pile of novels and despite himself, Severus cringed.
"It's Lestrange, now," smiled Bellatrix," or has falling out of the service of the Dark Lord made you forget everything?" She kept her foot firmly planted on his precious books.
"I never fell out of anything," Severus responded darkly, but lowered his gaze, almost like a peasant would do in honor of a savage queen. "I just never thought your married name suited you."
She winced. She wasn't expecting that to be the answer. Slowly, she removed her foot from the books.
Severus quickly piled them into his arms and stood up, sticking them back on the shelf. "Honestly," he muttered, "first editions!" He glowered at her and walked to the shabby dark couch, gesturing at a bottle of wine and three half-full goblets.
"What did you mean by that, about my name?" Bellatrix asked curiously, shaking her head in response to the wine. She was always much more reasonable when she wanted to know something.
"Absolutely nothing," Snape said despondently, filling the middle goblet with dark blood liquid and taking a swallow, his position of hand and delivery of drink to mouth very refined in a grim way.
"Don't be asinine, Snape," she chortled, flipping back her wild curls. "You never say anything nonsensical, that's why everyone hated you in school."
"Oh, was that why?" was his dull answer.
"One of the biggies," she said. "Kids are supposed to say stupid things, but you always thought too much. So don't give me any story about your little gibe about my name!"
Snape raised a cool eyebrow. "It wasn't a gibe, Bella."
"If you want to make some observation about my marriage, then go right ahead, you pathetic sod!" she screamed suddenly, her dark eyes glittering with hatred. "Just going to rough up the sisters tonight, are you, you bastard!? Think you can take us? Think just because we're women you can say what you think with no consequences? You've always been stupid about women, Snape, or should I say, Snivellus—I think your old name suited you, too," she put in bitterly," and you're still that worried adolescent idiot, at least Rodolphus is a man, look at you here, alone, with your books and your wine. You took advantage of my sister and her son, because you're jealous of all Lucius has accomplished. You want my sister, just like you foolishly pined for that little Mudblood princess, you disgusting, sniveling—"
Snape dropped his goblet to the hard floor where it shattered, sending painted-red shards of glass flipping every which way into the air like dandelion seeds. "Shut up!" he warned, clenching his teeth.
Bellatrix threw back her head, tossing her curls against her shoulders and laughed in a low guffaw.
"I didn't pine for anyone, Bellatrix!"
"Yes, you simply hated James Potter for no reason, just like you went off about my married name for no reason. You can't lie, Snape, you can't hide what a bloody coward you are," she chortled.
Snape's black eyes darkened even deeper. "Don't use that word."
"Coward!"
"I'm not a coward, and I didn't pine—"
"You mudblood-fucking coward! I NEVER TOLD!" shrieked Bellatrix, "and now you punish my sister who has lived the purest life, providing the Lord with a chosen son, being dutiful to Lucius—"
"You hate her, Bellatrix, and don't try to persuade me otherwise. Like you would have any affection for a dutiful person."
"She is my sister."
"Don't be embarrassing. You're going to give her a lashing tomorrow, you're not going to tell her how dutiful and sweet she is, and don't be stupid, you hate Draco, you all abhor Draco like the disgusting people you are, she hates Draco—"
"She does not hate her SON!" Bellatrix screamed, pursing her lips like a five year old having a tantrum.
"She might not hate him in the traditional sense, but you Blacks have always had an interesting way of loving and tolerating each other, buying lavish gifts and going on and on about how bloody well Purebloods get along! You hate each other!"
"I don't hate my nephew—"
"I know your nephew better than you know him! I know Draco better than Lucius and Narcissa."
"They're good parents!"
"They're terrible parents. I want to hear you tell the truth, Bellatrix Black. None of this Rodolphus business, you never even loved him, you never wanted marriage, you used to talk about it all the time—how sick Narcissa and Lucius made you feel, and if you're so into duty to your race of Pures, then why in the world were you never pregnant?"
Bellatrix glowered.
"I want you to stop being such a liar!" Severus begged. "Yes, I've always hated you and you've always hated me, but now I can't hate you because I feel so sorry for you!"
"You want what with me?" Bellatrix demanded," you feel what about me?"
"You're not Bellatrix Lestrange!" Severus announced loudly. "You're not Rodolphus' wife."
"Don't waste your rotted heart, Snape," Bellatrix snorted, regaining her control. "Look at you, trying to be poetic. Guess that's what happens to a man who reads seventeenth century prose all day long! 'You're not Rodolphus' wife,'" she mocked in a low mutter. "What are you, Snape?"
Severus sucked his cheeks in rage. "I'm attempting to compliment your individuality—"
"I don't need complimenting from you!"
"You gave up everything when you married him—"
"Quite the little marriage-protester, aren't we, Severus?" Bellatrix grinned, cocking her head to the side. "Lily, Narcissa and me. Wonder who else's marriage bed you've tried to clamor into," she clucked.
"I—"
"Married women, hm?" Bellatrix smirked. "Off limits seems so shiny, doesn't it, Snape? That way, you'll have an excuse you can use when the woman doesn't take you. You can tell yourself it was because of her husband. And that it has nothing to do with you being ugly, boring and uninteresting."
"Stop—" Snape finally pleaded, turning away.
Bellatrix's expression changed immensely. It did not soften, but it became less sharp. Less furious. "That's what I like, Snape. A little begging. Oh, there, there," she smiled and approached him, snaking her stabbing nails around his neck. "Poor little Snivellus and his empty, empty life."
"I don't regret it," Severus choked, still looking away, ignoring her toying hands the best he could. "Any of it."
"You certainly do," Bellatrix smiled. "Or else you wouldn't be such a brooding bat." She tightened her nails into his shoulders and listened to him gasp. "Loosen up," she announced, laughing.
Severus raised his chin higher, the sharp nails tickling his flesh like a hot fever. "I'm not—"
"Stop talking," Bellatrix hushed him in a bark and he grew even more rigid as one red nail flicked up the side of his cheek. She made her hand crawl as lightly as a spider. "There's a good boy," she smiled. "There's a good Snivellus."
"Compared to…" Snape managed to get out as Bellatrix pressed her tightly bound cleavage onto his chest. "Lestrange…" he continued.
Bellatrix raised her wand coolly with her free hand and pointed it at Snape's temple: "Spit it out, Snivelly."
In a very cool, calm voice, Severus babbled: "Compared to your maiden name, Lestrange, you are vibrant, so much more than a murderess, you are Bellatrix Black, you need no explanation. You are a woman to worship."
Laughing, she removed the wand from his neck. "Now there's poetry."
"I abhor when you do that spell on me!" Snape declared. "I can talk just fine on my own!"
"Can you?" she sniggered and kissed his bottom lip.
When she pulled away, he stared at her, silent.
"Can you, Snape? Can you? CAN YOU!?" she grinned and kissed him again, harder.
"Damn it! STOP!" he shouted, but he was smirking, his hands out at an uncomfortable angle.
"You're just as clammy as you were at fourteen," she cooed.
"Bellatrix," Snape sputtered; she was choking him: " What about Lestrange!"
Cupping her thin hand around Snape's pale wrist, Bellatrix pushed him against the bookshelf. "What's in a name?" she asked.