It was a red sea. Lily was sure of it. It was a red, endless, swirling sea. Her boat was small, a raft, really, with no sides, no oars, no ropes or handholds. A smooth glass raft. Lily's skin glistened with damp, she was afraid to touch the water; it was so hot, so red, so dark and endless. She was so hot; the glass was burning beneath her. The sea began to swell in vast undulating waves, never breaking, never touching her. The raft rocked precariously, one edge of her robe catching in the red. It flipped up and struck her across the face, across her mouth, and as the first iron taste of blood bloomed on her tongue she heard a low, pulsing whisper drifting across the sea. No, not across the sea. It came from the waves, the sound the waves made, the incessant rocking of the waves—

Lily. Lily. Lily.

It was her voice. It was Bellatrix, it was Bella, it was her dark crooning moan. Lily felt her body go blank on the raft, felt it begin to ripple with the waves, her hips pushing up high, then her back, arching, her breasts and her neck bared to the voice.

Lily. Lily. Lily.

The rhythm of the whisper became her pulse, it sank into her veins until she no longer had blood of her own, just the burning liquid of Bella's voice as it roiled through her. No. No. She knew. The sea was her blood, the sea was the power of her blood and Bella's blood mixing, pounding around her, over, her, through her as her raft turned hard and spilled her into it. She sank, helpless, down and down and down through the heavy crimson ocean where it was so quiet, silent, deep, the only sound the rushing of Bella's voice through her body, spiraling closer and closer to the dark center of her, to the void that had started in her mind and had gradually, easily slid lower and lower to the black, hot heart between her legs.

Lily. Lily. Lily.

And Bella was there with her, dark hair swirling, visible even through the heavy crimson that filled her mouth, filled her ears. Bella was with her there, she was holding out her hand, holding it to Lily's lips, pressing her own red mouth to Lily's aching flesh, sliding her fingers through all that blood to the secret part and Lily tried to scream, tried to scream, tried to scream but Bella's mouth was on hers and her hand was at her core and her hand was a wave, it was pushing and swelling and filling her and—

Lily woke abruptly, her skin on fire. Her sheets had been kicked to the end of the bed, twisted up in the blanket, all of it damp with sweat. Her blood pumped furiously in her temples, in her hands, in her center. Without thinking she pushed her hand down the front of her underwear and stroked herself feverishly, coming within seconds.

Bella. Bella. I love you.

She knew she loved Bella. Lily didn't know how she knew, it didn't feel good and happy and sweet like she had expected love to be. It felt dark, and cold, and dangerous. But it felt, that much she knew. It was painful, it was agony, it was more intensity than she thought her body could stand.

Lily wanted Bellatrix, needed her, wanted Bellatrix to be at her bedside, to call her a Mudblood, to stare at her with those indigo eyes until she didn't know herself any more. Lily wanted Bellatrix's mouth on her body, anywhere on her body, wanted Bellatrix to bite at the tender nape of her neck, wanted Bellatrix to spill her blood again.

"Lily?"

It was Alice. Lily heard the other girl shifting her bedclothes, opening her drapes, padding across the stone floor to her own bed. "Lily, are you all right? You're whimpering."

Lily hastily pulled her hand up and clutched at her nightgown. She brushed her face with her other hand, smoothing her hair back as best she could. Clearing her throat, she muttered something, anything, to let Alice know she was awake. Alice pulled back the heavy tapestry cautiously, peeking around the fabric. "Hi," she whispered. "You sounded awful."

"Nightmare," Lily mumbled. "I'm okay."

Alice sat down on the edge of the bed. "What was it? I mean, can I ask?"

It was about Bellatrix Black fucking me in a sea of blood.

"Lucius Malfoy," she said. Alice had heard all about the carriages, about Malfoy and his friends accosting Lily in the hall. The entire school had heard. But as far as Lily knew, nobody had heard about Bellatrix's intervention.

"Oh Lily," Alice said sympathetically. Lily cringed inwardly. She hated that soft, knowing tone. You don't know anything. None of you do.

"It's stupid," Lily said. "It was weeks ago."

"Yeah, but Lucius Malfoy hasn't exactly been avoiding you." It was true. Neither he nor his friends had actually approached her, or spoken to her, but she could feel their eyes following her everywhere she went. The bloody rags left on her bed, mixed with dirt. She hadn't gone to anyone about it, hadn't run to a professor or even to another student. She didn't want Bella to see that she was afraid.

Bella, who had been avoiding her. It was not awkward, no sudden ducking into corridors when Lily appeared, It was simply nothing. Lily had looked desperately for Bella's heavy black hair, her perfect body, but to no avail. It was as if Bella had vanished.

Lily's body told her that wasn't true. The dreams, the aching, dangerous, burning nightmares of Bella coming to her, nearly killing her, happened every night. Lily knew she was still there, somewhere, just behind her. Lily knew that Bella was aware of her desperate need.

"Well, c'mon," Alice said, suddenly cheerful. "It's nearly breakfast anyway."

At the table, Lily ate nothing. James Potter and Remus Lupin kept pointing at her and snickering at some private, juvenile joke. Sirius Black stared at her oddly. He knows, Lily thought. He's a Black, he can take away the Pureblood pride but he can't take away whatever family knowledge runs in him.

After, when she was gathering up her things to head to her first class, Sirius came up and tapped her on the shoulder.

"What are you doing, Evans?" he said. His voice was curious, mixed with an edge of anger.

"What do you mean, Black?" she replied, trying to match his tone.

"You've been walking around like you were hexed ever since term started. What's wrong with you?"

Lily almost cried with the relief of someone demanding to know without being treacly about it. "Nothing," she snapped and marched out of the hall.

As she approached the corridor that lead to the Charms classroom, her blood began to move frantically through her body. The ember below her belly flared.


Bella
.

She reached the staircase. Up was the classroom, up was another ordinary, miserable day of secret dark yearning for something she was ashamed about not being ashamed about. Down . . . down was . . .

A figure stood silhouetted against the cold blue light of the stained-glass window at the bottom of the staircase. It was her. It was her. Without hesitating Lily turned left instead of right and descended.

As she approached the figure it began to blur and shimmer. Her body surged toward it, dragged by an invisible tether tied around her waist. When she reached Bella her form had completely dissolved.

This way, that voice whispered. This way, girl.

Lily followed numbly, feeling nothing but the heat of her sex. She found herself in the dungeon, near the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

This way, girl.

Lily turned again and was in a dim stone room. Torches flickered on the wall. Cast-iron bracing lined the oak beams in the ceiling, and somewhere water dripped quietly. Bellatrix stood at the far end.

"Mudblood," she hissed. Lily's knees buckled. This was it, this was the day, this was the moment, this was what her dreams had told her would happen. It was what she wanted so badly, to be kept by Bella in a room like this, to surrender to her, to feel the dark power of those eyes, to make it part of her, to make herself part of Bella.

Lily stumbled gracelessly across the room and fell to her knees hard at Bellatrix's feet. Her breathing ragged, her pulse wild, she looked up at Bellatrix, mouth open, long white neck bare before her.

"What is it you want, girl?"

This, this, oh Bella I love you.

"You love me?" Bella shrieked with laughter. "You love me? What did you think I was going to do, to say? 'Oh yes, you filthy Mudblood whore, yes, I love you too'? Do you know, Lucius and his band of pups have been reporting to me daily that you sneak around trying to find me. Do you know how hard we laugh?"

Lily knew she was lying. She didn't care that Bellatrix didn't love her, she knew that much was true. She was lying about laughing with Malfoy.

"Besides, girl--" her tone suddenly soft and sinister, "—you know you shouldn't. You're one of those precious good things, you shouldn't be thinking the things you think about me, about any of the Blacks, about any of the Purebloods. You're supposed to stay with your own kind, to be sweet and happy and pure"—she spat the word at Lily "—and think silly thoughts about silly boys with your silly little friends."

"I know," Lily said softly, shocked that she had the audacity to speak in Bellatrix's presence.

"Do you."

"Yes," she whispered.

"But here we are." Bellatrix suddenly darted forward and grasped Lily's wrist. Her flesh was made of fire, it burned, but Bella's grip stayed hard and cool. "You know what's in here, don't you?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"It's your dirty blood."

"Yes."

"You spilled it on me, girl."

"Yes."

"Did you know that I cannot be tainted by tasting your filth? Did you know that impure blood does nothing to me? That if anything it makes me stronger, makes me more powerful?"

"No."

"It does. Lucius would say it dilutes the purity. He would say it makes me as dirty as you. But Lucius is a fool. He doesn't know the first thing about power."

"No."

"I do."

"Yes."

Bellatrix forced Lily to stand, swaying hard. The nearness of her, the nearness of her open mouth, of her penetrating eyes, was shocking. Bella's hot breath on her cheek, her grip forcing Lily's hand to her breast, oh God, Lily could see the fine pulse in Bella's neck, she was slipping under heavy black cloaks of desire, blood and lust pooling at her base, oh God, it was Bella's mouth closing around her finger, it felt exactly as she had imagined it those weeks ago, she felt Bella's teeth biting hard on the soft pad of her finger, Bella's teeth ripping through the tender skin, opening it, drawing blood.

Lily shuddered. Her orgasm nearly sent her to the floor, but her discipline kept her upright. If she fell Bellatrix would release her, stop sucking on her finger, stop tasting her.

Bella, Bella I love you.

Bellatrix slipped Lily's finger out of her mouth. A glowing red smear on her lip. Lily's blood on her lip. Bellatrix made no move to lick it away, only stared hard into Lily's eyes.

"Mudblood cunt," she whispered. "What do you think your filthy blood tastes like?"

Lily tried to pull her hand to her own mouth, but Bellatrix held her wrist.

"What do you think your filthy blood tastes like?"

Lily drowned inside herself as she leaned forward and took Bellatrix's lip in her teeth, drawing reverently on the soft flesh. Bellatrix pulled away, sucked hard on Lily's finger again. Blood glistened on her tongue.

"What does it taste like?"