Author's Note: This chapter contains memories of Non-Con groping, for those such a thing might affect. Thanks for reading.
'Come on, Bella, love. It's just a game.'
'Get her between the thighs, Nero; see what you find!'
Bellatrix scowled at the sea as she bent to pick up a stone. She stared down at the pale grey rock, dragging sand across it with her thumb before tossing it into the air before her. She caught it with her wand, Levitating it and then magically hurling it out into the water. It hit with such velocity that the smack of the splash cut through the sound of crashing waves. Bellatrix bent to pick up another stone, unable to rid herself of the awful memories of what the boys had done to her.
He'd stirred up those memories - Lord Voldemort - though Bellatrix doubted he'd meant to do so. She hadn't thought often about the way the boys had knifed their fingers up her skirt, the way they'd pawed roughly at her breasts and put their lips to her neck. She felt dirty now, standing here on the cloudy beach with a thick jumper on. It was uncharacteristically cold today, and the wind felt good whipping Bellatrix's curls about. She tossed the next stone by hand, and it landed with a pathetic sort of plunk.
She glanced up toward the house and thought of her master. For the last three nights in a row, he'd taken her body. That had never once felt like a violation. It had felt good; it had felt vivid and correct. He'd given her explicit instruction in brewing a longer-lasting contraceptive potion, which she'd done with the supplies he had around the house. He'd gone into town whilst she'd been brewing, for they needed more food and he could act the part of a Muggle with ease, he'd said.
She shivered now on the beach as she thought of him in his black cardigan and white collared shirt, in his grey trousers that matched the silver threads through his hair. He'd certainly looked like a Muggle, and when he'd come back to the house with armloads of paper bags, he'd looked mundane. But he wasn't mundane. He was divine.
Bellatrix had dosed herself with the contraceptive potion just like he'd insisted she do, because he didn't want to take a chance on putting a bastard in her. That's what he'd said. And he wanted to keep taking her, because he liked it. Whether she was his mistress or his whore or something else entirely was of precisely no consequence to Bellatrix. She's slept in his bed twice now, and waking up beside him was bliss. She didn't care about titles or formality. She just cared about him, about the man who had power coursing through him even when his magic was gone.
CRACK!
Bellatrix whirled round at the ripping, snapping sound behind her. She gasped when she saw Lord Voldemort appear out of thin air, his wand gripped tightly in one hand. Then he collapsed to his knees and started bleeding all over the wet sand, and Bellatrix fought not to scream.
"Accio Dittany!" She aimed her wand up toward the house without thinking and cried out the spell, and she dashed barefoot across the sand to where her master was kneeling. There was blood pouring from his rib cage, where clothing and flesh were missing in horrid stripes. He'd Apparate down here, Bellatrix realised, and he'd Splinched himself badly. Half his torso was slashed with great missing bits that were gushing out blood, and Bellatrix descended to her knees at the same moment she caught the flying Dittany.
"Don't worry, Master," she mumbled, listening to his rickety, shallow breath. He collapsed further, onto his side, the blood staining the sand in terrible rivulets. She rotated him and saw that there were grains of sand all over his wounds, and he muttered through clenched teeth,
"Clean it out, Bellatrix."
"Of course, My Lord. Scourgify." Bellatrix aimed her wand all along the wounds, and the specks of sand Vanished along with all the old blood. Bellatrix's hands shook as she opened the bottle of Essence of Dittany. She began to drop it all over the wounds, and Voldemort's snake-like hiss of pain told her it was working. He reached for her thigh and squeezed hard, his eyes wrenched shut as he tipped his head back against the sand.
"It's closing up, Master," Bellatrix assured him, watching the flesh knit back together. The bleeding stopped, and soon enough his skin was smooth and right again. His shirt was still torn, so Bellatrix aimed her wand at it and said, "Stolas Reparo."
The fibres of the dark green material started weaving themselves together again. Bellatrix siphoned up the blood from the beach, and she asked carefully,
"May I get you an Invigoration Draught or anything from the house, My Lord?"
"No… you've… you've done well. Thank you." Voldemort sat up very slowly, clutching at his rib cage as he pondered, "There's probably a good bit of bloody flesh in the library."
Bellatrix smiled meekly and shrugged. "My Lord, you Apparated."
"Sort of," he corrected her, his own smile quite crooked. Bellatrix gave him a meaningful look as she rose to her feet and extended a hand to him. He stood on his own, brushing sand from his clothes as she noted,
"Soon enough you'll be back with the others. Back to your full strength. Your magic is returning. Could there be any greater joy?"
"And you?" He stared down at her as he tucked his wand away, and Bellatrix frowned. Behind her, waves were beating the shore more vigorously; the tide was coming in. They'd have to ascend the wooden stairs soon enough.
"What about me, My Lord?" Bellatrix finally asked. Voldemort shifted on his feet and asked,
"Where will you go, once you're released from Cornwall?"
Bellatrix gulped. "I've a little flat in London."
"Have you?" He seemed surprised by that, but Bellatrix told him,
"As soon as I took the Dark Mark, My Lord, I moved out of my parents' house. The place is owned by the Mulciber family, and I rent it from them."
"Oh." Voldemort nodded and stared up at the house, a wistful little look coming over his face. She wondered what he was thinking then, but before she could get any sort of answer, he lowered his eyes to hers and whispered,
"Legilimens."
Bellatrix was shocked to feel the thud of him crashing into her mind, and all of a sudden memories where whirling before her. The endless parade of mental images finally stopped, and Bellatrix found herself whispering,
"Not that one. Please."
'Get your filthy hands off of me, Silas!' Bellatrix squirmed and reached for the wand Maximus Malfoy was holding. Silas Travers was too big, a whole head taller than her, and she was yanked back against the erection forming in his school trousers.
'Nobody ever told me your tits were so soft, Bellatrix,' he laughed, and she turned her head and snarled at him like an animal.
'Let me go or I'll see to it that you're walking around without a cock, Silas.'
'What the blazes is going on here?' Rodolphus Lestrange walked into the Common Room, his Prefect badge more welcome now than ever. Suddenly Bellatrix was able to clamber off of Silas Travers, and she hissed at Rodolphus.
'They called it a game. Touching me and stealing my wand.'
'Give it back to her. Now,' Rodolphus commanded. Malfoy lowered the wand and held it out to Bellatrix, looking so drunk she thought he might fall over. Rodolphus sneered at his Quidditch teammates and shook his head. 'Go to bed, all of you. Bella, you stay.'
She did, and once the boys had mumbled half-hearted apologies and made their way to the boys' dormitories, she turned to Rodolphus.
'Thanks,' she said simply, and he shrugged.
'Do you need to go to the Infirmary?'
'No,' Bellatrix said firmly. She straightened her uniform, yanking at the tie they'd loosened. 'No. I'm fine.'
She didn't feel fine, but she wouldn't tell Rodolphus or anybody else that information. She hardened her face and tipped her chin up and said again,
'Thanks. Goodnight.'
'Night, Bella.' Rodolphus sounded mournful as he watched her go to the girls' dormitory. Bellatrix walked on shaking legs, and it wasn't until she had her face buried in the pillow on her bed that she finally let the tears worm their way from her eyes.
Lord Voldemort pulled out of Bellatrix's head, and she stared up at him where they stood on the beach.
"You Legilimency is back, then," she noted. He didn't seem to care about whether his Legilimency was back. He parted his lips and then shut them again, shivering a little where he stood in the cold in his thin robes. Or maybe he was shaking with anger. Bellatrix couldn't tell.
"You consented with me," he said, and he seemed to be assuring himself far more that informing her. She nodded vehemently.
"Yes, My Lord. I consented with you. I like very much when you touch me. When you kiss me. It's not anything like -"
"Shall I kiss you now?" His voice was flinty, but Bellatrix just wrapped her jumper more tightly about herself and nodded.
"Yes, please."
"All right." Voldemort took her face in his hands, his wand pressing lengthwise against her cheek as he lowered his lips to hers. Bellatrix was expecting something deep and passionate, like nearly all his kisses had been, but that wasn't what happened. His lips brushed softly against hers, and then he finally pressed his mouth to hers as he sighed a little. He pulled away and glanced out to the sea.
"Tide's coming in. We should walk up."
"Yes, Master," Bellatrix agreed. She watched his throat bob, and he mused,
"When I feel confident leaving here, you'll go to your little flat in London. I shall require the address."
Bellatrix's stomach fluttered a bit. "Of course, My Lord."
He turned then, without another word, and he made his way to the many wooden stairs ascending the cliff up to the house.
Author's Note: So his magic is really, really coming back now. The curse is wearing off. How much longer until they leave Cornwall? And once they do, now that they very evidently have real feelings for each other, how will their interactions among the others be different? THANK YOU in advance for any feedback!
