Spider Footprints

Rodolphus' quiet snores dominated the dark. His face was pressed against Bellatrix's neck, blowing hot air across her skin, like tiny spider footprints. The sensation was undeniably pleasant. Even his snores, which many a woman would have found irritating, were a comfort to her. Every night for the past two years she had fallen asleep to the rhythm, calmed as a child is soothed by a lullaby. Already blinded by the darkness, Bellatrix closed her eyes and imagined laying there until she fell asleep in her husband's arms. Then, in the morning, she would wake guilt free and be able to smile and laugh with him without feeling like a fraud...

Slowly, she eased away from him, shifting her weight carefully and extracting her legs from the sheet. Bellatrix stood up, hands out to maintain her balance and listened to his snores, telling her than Rodolphus was still dreaming. Her eyes were gradually becoming more accustomed to the dark, pupils dilating to allow in more light. The meagre band of moonlight streaming in through the naked window was barely sufficient, and she had to scrabble around the floor to find her dress. It took even longer to find her shoes, which had somehow ended up on different sides of the room. Trying to do up buckles in the dark was a challenge.

As she dressed, her husband's breathing teased her. Rodolphus was safety and comfort. He loved her, maybe enough to die for her. And here she was sneaking out in the middle of the night. It's not like he'll ever find out she thought desperately, trying yet again to convince herself that she wasn't doing anything wrong. What he doesn't know can't hurt him. As she slipped into the hallway, shutting the bedroom door soundlessly behind her, she wasn't able to leave all of her guilt behind. Even after a year of sneaking out at least once a week she hated herself for it. Why then couldn't she stop? She skipped down the stairs and hummed a soft tune to herself, trying to drown out her thoughts. Before leaving her manor, she twisted her wedding ring from her finger and tossed it on the table beside the door.

Shortly before midnight, the Hog's Head, was still busy. The muddy pathway, churned with dozens of sunken footprints, was lit by the murky orange light which had managed to permeate the filth encrusted windows. Overhead, the sigh creaked in the faint breeze. The door to the pub opened, spilling its light into the darkness and letting the sound of laughter and the overpowering stink of cheap booze escape into the night.

Bellatrix let the door bang shut behind her, and cast her disdainful gaze around the dirty tables and mud encrusted floor. Several people looked up at her, but returned almost immediately to their drinks, lost in a haze of drunkenness. Bellatrix didn't need to search the room. The click of her heels was drowned out by the talk as she snaked her way over to their table. He was already there.

As she approached she watched his eyes slide easily from her face to the swell of her breasts, and then down to the flash of her legs. His small, satisfied smirk was one of appreciation. She ignored the look and took the seat opposite him. He had already brought a bottle of firewhisky for her, and without comment she took it and drained at least half of it. He laughed softly and Bellatrix finally looked at him properly.

Rabastan Lestrange was in many ways better looking than his brother. He was more muscular, and his thick brown hair and emerald eyes were desirable. He also, however, looked far crueller, with thin lips, and an expression of supreme arrogance. Even at Hogwarts all the girls had wanted him. Funny how the bad boy always got the attention.

"I thought you said that you weren't coming?" He said, laughter evident in his voice.

Bellatrix held his stare for a moment longer, before dropping her eyes to the table and studying a particularly large knot in the wood. "Changed my mind."

"Evidently."

Silence fell between them, broken only by the clink of the bottles. Bellatrix drained hers swiftly, relishing the brief burning sensation as the fiery liquid slid down her throat. Rabastan drank far more leisurely, barely taking his eyes off of his sister-in-law. As always, neither had anything to say to the other. They were not there for conversation, and any attempt to talk would have been worthless.

"How's Rodolphus?" Rabastan asked finally, leaning back on two legs of his chair, back pressed against the wall.

"Don't mention him." Bellatrix replied fiercely, glaring at him "Not here."

"You're far too sensitive Bells." He hooked a finger around the neck of his bottle and took a swig. "He's involved, whether you like it or not."

"If you dare tell him-"

"You'll what? Curse me?"

"Yes!"

Rabastan laughed. "The thing is, Rodolphus expects this sort of thing from me. But you..."

"I hate you." She spat.

"Leave then." He gestured to the door. "Nothing's stopping you." Bellatrix didn't move, but just sat looking daggers at him. "Just what i thought."

"Come on." Bella stood up and kicked her chair under the table. "Or aren't you man enough?"

Raising an eyebrow, Rabastan regarded her, and then stood up with a heavy sigh. "You really need decide what you want, Bells. You can't have it both ways forever." She ignored him, and spun round, weaving once again through the tables.

Silence encased them as they walked up the dirt path and into Hogsmeade village. All of the shops were dark, having closed many hours previously. Only the Three Broomsticks displayed any sign of life, and they avoided it, slipping down a deserted alleyway between Honeydukes and the Post Office. The darkness cloaked them, making them practically invisible, should any decide that importune moment to pass. They ignored the unpleasant smell of rotting rubbish and the general grime of the place.

As usual, there was nothing kindly in Rabastan's touch. He had her against the wall, her skin grating upon her bricks and his alcohol infused breath on her throat. The low grunts, moans and occasional hiss of pain swept along the length of the alley, but not going beyond. Not that there was anyone to hear anyway.

When they were done, Rabastan let her fall, and Bellatrix barely managed to avoid crashing to the floor. "I'll see you next week, Bells." He called over his shoulder as he tidied himself away.

"I won't come next time." She replied, gingerly tapping her wand against her grazed back.

Rabastan just laughed, not bothering to look back and apparated away.

For a minute after his disappearance, Bellatrix watched the empty space where he had stood. Then, cursing both him and herself, she began to untwist her dress round her thighs and smooth down her hair. She didn't bother with it too much, Rodolphus should be asleep, and none the wiser about the nights activities. With a heavy sigh, she left the alley with a brief pop.

Bellatrix returned to their room quickly and darted into the bathroom, once she was sure that Rodolphus was still safely asleep. She showered, the water almost unbearably hot, relishing the pain as a chance to wash off her guilt, and scrubbed furiously at herself. By the time she pulled on a nightgown and slipped into bed, her skin was an unhealthy red. She wriggled next to her husband, curling against his warmth, and felt him respond in his sleep. Spider footprints scurried down her collar again, as they nestled against one another, both to seek and receive comfort.