Story written for: Gamma Orionis
Story guidelines as follows:
Prompt: This image for inspiration: [drawing of a shirtless man proffering his bleeding heart to an uninterested woman, with text at the top reading, "I give you my heart".]
Characters or pairings you'd like to see (optional): Bellatrix/Voldemort is the best pairing ;) But feel free to surprise me with other pairings or characters (preferably of the Death Eater-ish or Pureblood-ish variety)
Likes (anything you enjoy seeing in a story): Dialogue-heavy fics. Requited or semi-requited Bellamort (SHUT UP). Disturbing things (violence, psychological torture, perverse sexual things, whatever. Play a game of "can I freak Gamma out?" :D). Psychological themes and disorders (bonus points for use of Freudian psychological theories). Myth or fairy tale adaptations/inspiration. Also, smut.
Dislikes (characters, pairings, genres or anything you won't write/wouldn't like to read): Erm, Draco/Hermione or Draco/Harry. Extremely lighthearted things with absolutely no distressing aspects or implications.
Disclaimer: we own nothing.
Heart
Part One: The Madonna
•••
January
•••
On his wedding day, Rodolphus overheard Bellatrix speaking to Narcissa.
"I don't really love him," Bellatrix said blandly, twiddling with a wilted flower, pulling its petals off and dropping them to the ground.
In spite of the chill in the air, in spite the frost that decorated the trees with watery diamonds, in spite of the slightly overcast skies, bright light filtered in through the high windows. His fiancée's clothes glittered in the unnatural light, giving her a halo; Narcissa seemed to glow. Neither of them noticed him, just outside the door of Bellatrix's room, so he lingered a moment longer, listening as he watched the light catch on his patent shoes.
"What a horrible thing to say!" Narcissa sounded genuinely shocked.
"It's the truth. And it's not as if he loves me either, but we get along well enough, and he's from a good family. Really, that's all that matters."
Rodolphus shifted his foot, and a spark of light blinded him, momentarily.
"You should love the person you marry," Narcissa said. Rodolphus thought she sounded a bit sad, but he couldn't see her face to judge with certainty.
"You're naïve, Cissa." Rodolphus was certain the woman who would soon be his wife sounded bitter. Bitter and unhappy. And, for some reason, it gave him an unpleasant feeling … a strange tightness in his heart.
•••
April
•••
"My sister is visiting tomorrow," Bellatrix murmured, nudging Rodolphus with her elbow.
"Is this really the best time to be telling me?" he turned back to face her, very briefly, not wanting to take his eyes off the house they were watching.
She rolled her eyes. "I just wanted to let you know, since you'll be home."
He flicked his eyes towards her and – just for the barest of moments – felt his heart swell with pleasure and pride. The pleasure and pride of knowing that she cared, even just in the most simple of senses. His lips seemed to move up of their own accord; she was so good. Such a wonderfully good witch.
And at that moment, the wonderfully good witch prodded at him with the tip of her wand. "Pay attention!" she hissed.
He turned back to the house, waiting for any signs of movement within.
•••
The house belonged to a Mudblood. A woman, in fact, with curly blonde hair and oval-shaped glasses. Neither Rodolphus nor Bellatrix knew her name. They knew very little about her, besides the very obvious things, besides what their master had told them. And Lord Voldemort had not told them much – only that she was to be brought back, alive.
An automobile rumbled slowly into the driveway, headlights illuminating the garage doors. Bellatrix's lips curled back in disgust. They waited just a few moments longer, then – lights in the sitting room flickered on, and they could perceive her silhouette moving behind sheer drapery.
They pulled their masks forwards to cover their faces and, like the silent encroaching darkness, they crept towards her house, two shadows in the night. Rodolophus reached the door first, and whispered Alohomora! The lock snicked, and he stood back, allowing Bellatrix to push the door open and slip inside. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he followed.
The woman was reading a book, curled up on an overstuffed chair, and didn't notice their entry. Her wand was nowhere in sight – but Rodolphus knew better than to assume she was unarmed.
"Stupefy!"
She barely had enough time to look up – the shock only barely registered on her face – before the spell hit her, so forcefully it knocked her back, and the chair tipped onto its hind legs, wavered a moment, suspended between two extremes, before tipping forwards, solid on the ground again.
"Well, well," Bellatrix cooed. "Look what a pretty girl we have here." She walked towards the prone woman and reached forwards to pull off her glasses. "You'd look so much better without these, you know."
And she snapped them in two, letting the broken halves fall to the floor.
Rodolphus half watched her from the hallway, where he stood guard, wand at the ready.
He heard the woman whimper, and he couldn't help but spare a glance in their direction. Bellatrix circled her chair like a cat around her prey.
"Such a very pretty girl…" She dragged her wand, held only very loosely between three fingers, across the woman's face, leaving deep gashes as she went, exposing tissue, exposing teeth.
Blood flowed down the woman's face and dripped onto the arms of the chair. Bellatrix tore a page from the woman's book and mopped up some of the blood with it, staining it a deep red and using it as a paintbrush to draw a misshapen Dark Mark on the woman's arm. She laughed softly.
"Have you ever smelled blood before?" Bellatrix shoved the bloody paper under the woman's nose. "Yours smells awful, Mudblood. Do you smell that? It's repulsive. You're repulsive, you ugly" – she withdrew a knife and pressed it deep into the woman's cheeks, until she met with bone, "little" – she traced the knife downwards towards the chin, holding the instrument with her fist, trembling with adrenaline and rage, "mudblood" – she spat the word and punctuated it with a twist of her knife, "whore." She dug the knife into the woman's chest, just far enough to slice her left breast in half. Blood spurted outwards and Bellatrix leapt back to avoid being spattered with it. At the same time, she loosened her grip on her knife, and the expression of pure hatred on her face was slowly replaced by one of glee.
Bellatrix laughed.
"Everything well in there, Bella?"
She turned halfway towards the hallway, then halted and turned back. "Expelliarmus!" she snapped, and the woman's wand flew towards her, having emerged from her sleeve.
"All's well." Bellatrix moved into the hallway. "You fix her back up so she doesn't bleed to death, I'll watch out here."
Rodolphus took her place in the brightly lit room, a sneer on his face. The woman's head lolled to the side, dripping blood everywhere. He muttered a series of healing spells, intentionally doing a poor job, fixing her only well enough to keep her alive. The bisected breast he left split, only bothering a quick spell to stem the bleeding. Somehow, the thought of that whore's chest massacred as such made him smile.
And in the back of his mind, he thought of his wife, standing in the hallway, strong and good and nothing like the crying woman before him.