Well, okay I want to THANK YOU! I've never had so many follows and favorites on a single chapter before! And a review! It made me extremely giddy to say the least. I really hadn't thought this would go much of anywhere, it was just an idea that I couldn't get out of my head. Now that there is interest for it I have been thinking over an appropriate arc for this. And hopefully I won't disappoint. Sorry this took a while to put out, I'm having a hard time writing this, since I want to make it just right for you guys. :) Let me know what you think, or any suggestions you would like.

(Past: July 1995)

Sirius watched as Janelle smoothed her hands through her wild locks. He could smell the mixture of vanilla and coconut she worked through the ends of her wet hair. It definitely smelt like his teenage years. When she would stay with his family for a week during the summer. She would literally drench the upstairs hallway with the scent. He and Reg used to rag on her for over compensating for her B.O. problem, but in reality it helped overcome the stale smell emanating from the two boy's rooms. They weren't house elves, they weren't taught to pick up after themselves. Though Kreacher did very little pick up after them as well. Sirius turn his head, hearing something crash.

"Oh, damn it." Deidra hadn't been paying attention, her careless elbow threw her glass powder bowl to the floor. "No, no back boy. You'll cut your paw." She pushed him back, so he watched her pick up the large shards and banish away the rest. Looking please she shoved the pieces together, and whipped her wand in an intricate way. A replica of the powder bowl laid in its wake. She winked at Sirius, when she caught the dog staring in wonder, "our little secret okay?" His eyes wandered over her forearm and he let out a whine. Janelle had rather large, nasty scars over where her dark mark should have been. It looked like someone had scraped it right off, the lower level of muscle included. She pulled down her housecoat sleeve suddenly self-conscious. "That's-," she paused, fiddling with the sleeve, "ah, something. I don't want to talk about it, okay?" Sirius whined again and nuzzled against her bare leg. She patted the top of his head, a small smile upon her lips. "Silly me, apologizing to a dog." She chuckled, "but you are, my only company. Maybe I'll tell you one day, when I'm ready." Sirius looked up as she scratched behind his ear. "And if you stick around."

Sirius had waited until he had been sure that she had went to bed before searching the confines of her cottage, with her wand no less. He wanted, no, NEEDED to know what happen to his little brother. He walked slowly towards the fireplace, tapping her wand on the side of the fiery basin. He observed her for days, before he was certain of the pattern used to unlock her hidden room of secrets. It mimicked the pattern used to get in Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron. Once the door lurched open, he was hit with more questions and less answers. Little brother had lined the room from floor to ceiling full of magical material.

Sirius hesitated upon hearing a groan, he quickly turned back to his animagus form. He quietly padded back together the bedroom, the groans were growing louder and more wanton. He flourished his teeth ready to attack, but his jaw slacked once revealed what was actually happening.

He began to pant, as perverted as it was, the sight before him was hot. Janelle's tussled hair was spread across the bed spread in a haphazard mess. But that wasn't had caught his eye. She had one hand dip in her knickers, feverishly rubbing back and forth. The other was curled under her brasserie, massaging her chest. Her fingers were glistening with her juices, she was so close he could smell her anticipation and excitement. Her skin was flushed around the middle of her legs. A heat was building over. Her eyes were clenched shut, as her breathing intensified, he could tell she was on the brink of orgasm.

He turned to leave the room. More than twelve years without a woman had made him as horny as a teenage boy all over. For now, he was going to forget her being his brother's wife. But instead, her as a beautiful woman pleasing herself in presence of him, a man, a man rousing with a desire only a woman could have enticed.

"There you are." Deidra patted the bed, trying to get the dog to come closer. The black dog came towards her wearily, she gave him a small smile. He was beginning to trust her a little more each day. A few weeks ago when she had brought him in to tend to his leg and then he had disappeared a few days later. But at least once a week he would spend the day with her and now the night. She had made her first friend, her first companion. As silly as it sounded. "I'll tell you a secret. Tomorrow, tomorrow will be a new day." She paused, smiling down at the pooch that had decided to claim the other half of her bed. Tonight, at least she wouldn't be alone. "Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of my life. Dumbledore had assured it."

(Current timeline: February 14th 1996)

Narcissa was told to take Janelle out of the basement and "clean her up". To what extent, her husband hadn't made it very clear. His tone of voice was tight, as trying to front the uncertainty he had about the whole situation. She patted his shoulder quietly as she left, while he was fiddling nervously with his Deatheater mask; Narcissa had her job to do, and so did he. Wasting time dwelling on hidden meanings would do neither of them any good. She quietly step down into the damp basement, trying to detect whether odor she encountered was of death or of something else entirely. Please be dead, her mind begged. She hoped for the former, but unfortunately she could make out the outline of the crumpled up body heaving in the corner. Narcissa sighed, the poor woman.

"Janelle?" She softly asked, as she lightly tapped her turnt back. Narcissa could tell the solitude and confine was quickly widdling away her previous resolve. "Come on we need to get you up." She lifted her up by her arms, trying to force her to stand. Narcissa was going to treat the poor girl to a bath.

"Cissy? Where, where are we going?" Janelle whispered. Narcissa bit her lip, nearly tearing up at the sentimental nickname. Janelle had said it with a delicacy that Narcissa knew she hardly deserved it. It was her fault after all, that Janelle was a prisoner here. Janelle stared up into Narcissa's eyes, they held her gaze as she helped her up the stone steps. Narcissa would take care of her, those grey eyes told her so.

(Past: July 1995)

Her breath caught in her throat, the sight of the dilapidated house had been frightening and exciting at the same time. There was several memories she had watched of being here. To now know what lied ahead, she couldn't help but shake with excitement. The dark home brought feelings of comfort. Albus had nodded for her to take a step in. She did as asked, with almost childlike wonder.

"HOW DARE YOU BRING BLOOD TRAITORS AND MUDBLOODS ALIKE? CURSE THE AIR THEY BREATHE, THE FLOOR THEY WALK ON, THE... Janelle?" She uncovered her ears and looked at the portrait. The fair haired woman stopped in the middle of her tirade and glared at the visitor in her family's home.

"Yes?" She answered the portrait unsure. Janelle was her true name, but...

"My only daughter! Kill the traitor within these walls! Restore the Black name, cleanse this house of MUDBLOOD LOVERS!" Deidra was trying to formulate a response for the portrait that knew her apparently.

"Ah, I-." A spell flew by, taking Deidra by surprise.

"Finally, Albus. I don't know why you insist listening to my mother's rants. Couldn't stand her then and I can't-" He seemed shock to see her. "I didn't say to bring her here!" Deidra suddenly stiffened. Albus put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Deidra, this is Sirius Black, your brother in law." Her eyes widened at the name. She had done her research, according to her documents Sirius had been best thing to happen for redeeming the Blacks. But those parchments had been created before 1981, before he became the notorious serial murderer. She couldn't believe Dumbledore would be in cahoots with such a character, despite their connection. She turned to Albus nervously.

"I don't think I'm comfortable here. I want to leave."

"Oh the Deatheater seems to be uncomfortable by my presence. How laughable is that!" She finally stared straight at him, slightly insulted. Sirius kept shouting but she heard no words. His beautiful grey eyes, reminded her of a storm. The calm after a horrific event. They matched the eyes in the picture. The grey eyes that had stared lovingly into her younger ones. The shaggy dark hair, she could best describe as a Raven mane. "What, what the bloody hell are you doing?" She took a step back, horrified at what she had done. In her dream like state she had walked up to a deranged murderer and, caressed his face!

"I'm so sorry, I don't know, I-" She hurried back over to Dumbledore. "I don't think this was a good idea. I think I should leave." She pleaded. Albus gave her an amused smile.

"How about we talk over lunch?" Albus suggested, Sirius rolled his eyes. Albus must have had some point for bringing her here specifically.

"KREACHER!" Sirius yelled. With a loud pop, the house elf appeared. Deidra hid behind Albus. "Kreacher prepare dinner for three." The house elf muttered something and disappeared with a crack.

"Was, was that a house elf?" Sirius stared in disbelief. "He was a miserable little thing wasn't he?" Sirius gave her a lopsided grin.

"Always been that way. He might be in a better mood when he sees you." Deidra scoffed.

"I will believe it when I see it."

(Current timeline: February 14th 1996)

"Janelle," Regulus whispered in her ear as he peppered her jaw and neck with biting kisses.

"Yes, Reg?" She breathed out in a husky tone, she was already feeling the burn of unrelenting lust. He had been mercilessly teasing her for several minutes now, she just wanted, no needed release. He grabbed a fistful of her golden blonde hair, preventing her mouth from touching him further. He needed her full attention, he wanted to try something a bit risqué.

"Roll your skirt up, and come here." Janelle's cheeks flushed for a moment. She avoided looking directly at Regulus as she complied with his wishes. He licked his lips in anticipation. She was mesmerizing. He had seen her naked flesh several times now, and his reaction was still the same, as was her infernal blushing. He would teach her, that her body, her subtle and delicate body should be prized. He took her hand, leading her towards his bed. Trying to retain a cool façade, he laid on the bed and beckoned her forward. She crossed her legs and shied from his request. "Trust me, you'll enjoy it."

"Sit on your face? Doesn't that seem…I don't know….weird to you?" His cool grey eyes stared at her, trying to be as reassuring as he could be. He gently nudged her closer, getting her to kneel on the bed. A step closer. Janelle was excited, but scared. This seemed to be very different from all the things the other girls had talked about.

"Just put both of your legs on either side of my head and I promise you, you will enjoy it." Janelle gave him a sheepish smile. She could trust Regulus, and she shouldn't be a prude towards her boyfriend. This was something that couples did, right?

All Janelle could see was Regulus's eyes staring affectionately back up at her. Just his tender glare and calculated licking nearly had her doubling over, she clutched the headboard. Janelle had been dubious before, but now every guided sway of her hips over his eager mouth brought her unforgettable pleasure. She should never doubt him again, Regulus was too good to her, much, much...she moaned. He smiled as he brought her closer towards her climax. Her noises, her taste were all too delicious. His own arousal nearly throbbed at the prospect of winning her over this way.

"Oh Regulus, don't stop, I-" she moaned louder this time.

"Oh Merlin, like animals you two are." Barty was shaking his head in annoyed amusement. He dropped the heavy nap sack he had been hauling around. Janelle had tried to move but Regulus had a tight hold on her thighs, she attempted to cover herself, while her cheeks a blaze.

"Unless you're offering to join, get out Bartemius." Janelle stared down at Regulus in shock, what kind of girl had he thought she was? He smirked at her, raising a brow. She would take the challenge, that wicked boy beneath her knew how to push her buttons.

"Yes, Barty unless you want to tend to Reg, get out." Janelle added with a smirk of her own, Barty scoffed at her offer. He shook his head, walking towards the exit.

"Like dogs you are! Next time charm the door." He shouted before slamming the door shut.

"It's seems Mr. Black, wanted to leave his pretty little wife good times to remember him by, hasn't he?" His face was just inches from hers now, Janelle nodded slowly. Afraid of the Dark Lord's next move, his brand of torture today was pushing contact. She whimpered as he tugged on her hair, pulling her head closer to his. He took a large whiff of her hair, "vanilla verbena. Just the way he remembered it, so vividly so." She clenched her hazel eyes shut, truly frighten of where the conversation was leading.

"Had this been my request or yours?"

"Mine." She whispered.

"Of course." She could hear the smugness in his voice. He had already knew as much, he just wanted to reiterate it for his own amusement. He slid behind her, now pulling her hair hard back, she was now forced to stare up at his mutated face. "Poor, poor Janelle, despite the ever flamboyant attitude, there is a bit of predictability in her routine. And that predictability could easily be mistaken for naïveté, and that my dear," he leaned close, "could be misinterpreted as feigned innocence." She tried not to shiver from disgust as he dragged his callous tongue against her skin. His breath was sort of minty, and cool. She wondered whether he brushed his teeth or an elaborate charm, her face dropped forward. He released her hair, circling her once more. She was breathing fast, trying to anticipate his next move. "Untouched for more than 15 years, almost as pure as when Regulus took a taste of you himself." She shook as he flicked his wand, transfiguring her robes to something resembling her old uniform. She gasped feeling the familiar fabric, everything was almost exactly the same, down to the hiked up skirt which was rolled up three times around her waist.

"Is this-"

"The same? No. But Mr. Black did have a particular sharp memory of details." He stared down at her with a new vigor of interest, much like a vulture locking onto its prey.

"What I haven't quite understood, is why? Why had he chose you?"

"I don't know why h-" he shot a withering jinx at her. All she could do was mouth her silence excuses. He stopped in front of her and grinned, one that made her whole spine tingle.

"Something you did, Janelle, changed him." She vehemently shook her head in disagreement. He clutched her cheekbones, digging into them slightly, stilling her pleas of no. "I believe it was the physical promise of you," she tried fighting hard against his grip, crying, "I'm intrigued whether the pound of flesh was really worth the betrayal?" He flicked his wand again, diminishing the jinx.

"No!" She shouted, surprised by the spark of her hoarse voice, he merely chuckled at her amused.

"The problem that you haven't overcome is that you lack a choice here." He swooped in, his dark eyes piercing into hers, "I will have you."

The prima facie pleasure made him believe she had desired this experience.

Janelle had been left in a wake of distress. Voldemort had left hours prior, clothes shredded, only held together in the clasp of her hands. How could she live with herself? She could handle being beaten, she could handle being starved, but never had, her lips quivered at the thought, but rape had never been a real fear of hers.

A quick few tugs at her painfully erect nipples and the teasing of her cunt, he slowed his attack, if only for a moment. "Janelle," he rasped in a husky tone, "I hardly believe that Black had to put all this effort in by himself?" He pulled his length out only to slap in onto her swollen region. He also relocated her flaying hand forcing it to rub firmly in between her legs. She tried not to be distracted by the sweet pressure from below. "Tell your lord how you want it." She cried when he slapped her in the face, he wanted her response, and she wanted to cease to exist.

"Please-please my lord...make me," she gasped as he pushed back into her with little restraint.

"Keep going," he instructed her. He wanted her to be literally dripping beneath him.

"Make me cum again, please my... my lord," she managed to squeal out midway between his various speeds of thrusts.

The most personal violation of it all, her former master, her rapist, had made her cum, over and over again. He jested she was the best she would ever have, and will ever have. The betrayal of her body as she creamed against his cruel mouth and his pelvis. The internal battle between pleasure and fighting to remember the one who was defiling her. He had lamented to her when his appetite had been sated, that she was a nifty prize.

"I would pass you around my ranks to my more faithful men," he cupped her face, she winced closing her eyes. "A pureblooded prize for ones too busy to find a suitable one." She didn't want to be touched anymore. Janelle tried to pull away from what seemed the thousandth time. "But your womanhood is the real conspirator, and disloyalty among my followers is an aversion of mine."

One of the few treasured memories she had of her dear Regulus had been transformed into fear inducing, and self-hating swill. The door swung open, revealing Bellatrix and Narcissa to the aftermath. Both of the woman sneered at the smell of desperation and sex sweat that greeted their senses. Narcissa stood a distance away as Bellatrix came barreling at her target. She was downright jealous of what the Dark Lord had done to her.

"What's wrong little traitor?" She asked, giving Janelle a swift kick in the side. The pain hadn't even register in her mind, which wasn't satisfying for Bellatrix in the slightest. "C'mon, cry little wench." She pushed the tip of her wand hard in her throat, "I want to hear you beg for your life." Bellatrix threaten, trying to intimidate her. Janelle's hazel eyes quickly gaze over the mad woman, then back into nothingness. Bellatrix had once been an ally, had been fiercely loyal to the old traditions. A crusader of blood purity. Now, Janelle wouldn't give her the satisfaction. In all honesty she couldn't if she wanted to, she was numb.