Bellatrix let out a shaky sigh as she raised her fist and rapped on the door to Voldemort's office. It was two in the afternoon; she had less than an hour before her father and sisters arrived for their last visit before the girls went back to school. She'd have come much sooner, but she hadn't finished knitting until five minutes earlier.
"Enter," Voldemort said through the door, and Bellatrix pushed it open and walked in. He set down his copy of the Daily Prophet where he sat at his desk, pulling off the pair of black reading glasses that Bellatrix had begun to see as rather attractive. She fingered the brown paper-wrapped parcel in her hands and said meekly,
"Happy birthday, Master."
He tipped his head and rolled his eyes. "I've told you, you silly girl. I do not celebrate my birthday."
"I know," she nodded. "And that was good, actually, because after all the money I spent on Christmas gifts, my allowance coffer's run a bit dry. But, just the same, I wanted to give you something. So… happy birthday."
She passed him the paper wrapped parcel, and he smiled a little. Before he could open it, Bellatrix asked,
"Will you tell me which one it is?"
He looked confused, and she specified,
"I know you're a few years older than my father, Master, but -"
"Oh. Forty-two," he said, somewhat awkwardly. He cleared his throat and said softly, "I'm forty-two today."
She gave him a pleasant smile and nodded as he unwrapped the parcel. He pulled out the black fingerless gloves inside, which had taken considerably more time and effort than Aeta Malfoy's green mittens. In fact, Bellatrix had tried and scrapped two whole pairs before finally getting it mostly right with these. She watched as Voldemort slipped them on, and he flashed her a rare grin that showed his teeth and everything.
"I thought the fingerless gloves would make it easier to use your wand," Bellatrix shrugged, and he nodded as he stood and came around his desk. He put his hands on either side of her face, and the wool she'd used to knit the gloves scratched her cheeks a little. He bent to kiss her, and the two of them slowly moved toward the wall.
"Thank you, Bella," Voldemort murmured. He kissed her, softly at first, then more deeply, pushing her lips apart with his tongue. He traced the roof of her mouth, and she held the shoulders of his robes as she moaned a little. She encouraged him to back up against the wallpaper, and she whispered against his mouth,
"I haven't finished giving you your birthday gift, Master."
"You haven't?" He kissed her again, so deeply now that he had to hold her close, since her knees buckled. She squealed when he suckled her tongue, and when at last he pulled away, she started to sink down onto her knees, feeling a flutter of nerves in her belly. She was determined today. She knew what she wanted to do to him. She knew how she wanted to please him.
"Fellatio," she said softly, reaching into his robes and unbuttoning his trousers. "No teeth. Use your lips and tongue just as you'd use your hand."
"Bellatrix." Voldemort started to peel off his black wool outer robe, letting it fall to the ground to get it out of the way, and then he burrowed his fingers into her curls. Bellatrix licked her lips, staring at his cock, sliding her hand down his shaft and revealing his swollen, purplish tip. She gazed up at him and sang quietly,
"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you."
"Bellatrix." He pushed his hips forward a little, his fingers cinching in her hair, and his eyes fluttered. She licked around his tip, suckling at the spot on the bottom where she knew he liked to be touched. He groaned a bit, and she sang, her breath warm on his skin,
"Happy birthday, dear Master. Happy birthday to you."
"Bellatrix." His voice cracked then, and he sounded sleepy as he rubbed his fingertips against her scalp. Bellatrix pinched her wet lips together and then pushed his tip against them, as though he were penetrating her mouth like he penetrated her between her legs. She instantly began to suck, drawing him close to her throat. She ignored the instinct to gag, knowing that she could overcome that just as easily as she overcame feelings during Occlumency. She repeated the action, pulling Voldemort's cock out again, drawing it in and down and back, and then she swallowed him as if trying desperately to pull him to her stomach.
"Oh! Oh." Voldemort's fingers yanked a little at her hair, which felt so good that she flushed soaking wet between her legs. Bellatrix squirmed a little, knowing that today was not her day for gratification. It was his day. His birthday. She used one fist to trail behind her mouth, and her other hand fondled his orbs as she knew he liked.
"Bellatrix!" He sounded strained now, and when she looked up, his back was arched and his head had pushed back against the wall. His seed would be very bitter, she knew. She likely wouldn't care for the taste, the book had said, and it was her choice what she did with it. Bellatrix, for some reason, wanted it all over her. She could tell that he was close. She thrust her mouth onto him again, gulping him deeply into her throat, feeling the jab of his tip against her aching throat, and she could tell he was tight, seconds away from bursting.
"Bellatrix." It seemed he'd forgotten how to say anything other than her name. Now it was coming out as a broken whispered, and his hands had gone slack in her hair. She pulled back, holding his cock firmly, aiming it, and she whispered up at him,
"Paint my face, Master."
"Oh." He shut his eyes for a moment, then forced them open, seeming like he wanted to watch. His jaw dropped open, and he gasped a few times, and his fingers tangled limply in Bellatrix's curls. His come came erupting out in uneven jets, five or six of them, landing in warm splashes from Bellatrix's forehead all the way down to her chin. It got on her eyelashes, on her nose and cheeks and lips. She peeked her tongue out to taste it - like a coin dipped in sour milk. Metallic and foul, but heady and masculine. She stared up at Voldemort, who studied her like she was a work of fine art, until he pulled his wand out and aimed it at her. He was still wearing the fingerless gloves she'd made him, she realised as he murmured,
"Tergeo… Scourgify."
He helped her stand, and then he slowly tucked his cock away, buttoned himself up, and pulled his outer robe back on. Finally he studied Bellatrix again and told her,
"It seems I may have been missing out a bit in not celebrating my birthday."
She laughed at that and said demurely, "I only hope I gave you gifts worthy of the Dark Lord ascending. Master."
He tipped her chin up, and she felt the wool she'd knitted for him on her skin again. He kissed her cheeks, then her forehead, and he murmured,
"Thank you. I do love you very much, you know. Now go wash your face with some real soap. Your father and sisters are coming in less than an hour."
"So, is Lucius still in Wales?" Narcissa asked as Dobby rolled in a tea cart. Andromeda rolled her eyes and insisted,
"You can see Lucius at school, Cissy. Unlike Bella, who doesn't go to school anymore."
Bellatrix poured herself a cup of hot water over a bag of peppermint tea, dropping in a cube of sugar, and as she stirred, she said quietly,
"He's in Wales, Cissy. Sorry. He was here the first few days of the holidays. I think the… erm… Mr Riddle is meeting with both Daddy and Mr Malfoy."
"Is Mr Riddle very good friends with Mr Malfoy?" Narcissa asked curiously, and Andromeda sniped,
"Why do you care about middle-aged men's friendships?"
Narcissa took a small sip of her own tea, and Bellatrix huffed a breath. She looked at Narcissa's silver-painted nails, and she smiled.
"The nail varnish looks good, Cissy."
"Oh, yes! Thank you." Narcissa held out her hand and grinned. "I admit that I've tried every colour. I love them all, the silver the most."
"Mummy wasn't exactly amused by her anti-wrinkle serum," Andromeda said. She still hadn't served herself any tea. Bellatrix shrugged, looking round the dim parlour.
"Is that why she didn't come?"
"Actually, she's with Gran Irma," Narcissa said. "Gran's rheumatism is acting up these days, so Mum's gone to stay with her for a few weeks."
"Oh. I'll send a letter to Gran," Bellatrix nodded.
"You can be kind when it suits you," Andromeda nodded. "But you give gifts that you know people will hate."
"Oh, did you not like that black lipstick?" Bellatrix asked lightly. "I thought it would complement your personality."
"Bella," Narcissa breathed, sounding shocked. Andromeda narrowed her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. She looked around and noted,
"This is some prison, Bella."
"I'm under house arrest," Bellatrix corrected her, and Andromeda nodded.
"Yes. You are treated to a nice long stay in a manor, thanks to the generosity of a Dark wizard even more notorious than you."
"What are you implying?" Bellatrix slowly stood, and Narcissa set her tea on the tray as she said worriedly,
"Bellatrix, sit down."
"What are you implying, Andy?" Bellatrix demanded again, and Andromeda said sharply,
"You tortured a girl, Bellatrix! You should be in prison. A real prison. Not lollygagging around a mansion with your middle-aged boyfriend!"
Bellatrix whipped out her wand, yanking it from its holster. It got stuck, so she wrenched at it and jabbed it at Andromeda's throat. Andromeda shook her head, looking disgusted, and she said,
"You just can't help yourself."
"Bella, they'll throw you into Azkaban!" Narcissa exclaimed, flying to her feet and grabbing at Bellatrix's arm.
"Expelliarmus!"
Bellatrix's wand whirled through the air, flying from her hand and soaring back through the room. She spun over her shoulder to see Voldemort and her father standing in the doorway of the parlour. Cygnus was staring in open-mouthed horror, and Voldemort looked so full of rage that Bellatrix was sure he was going to start throwing spells himself.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Do you want to spend years wasting away in a cold, empty cell?" he hissed, and she shook her head wildly. Voldemort held up her wand and reminded her, "The Ministry inspects this for any slight trace of malfeasance. You put one single hair out of line, and you will go to prison. Cygnus."
He turned to the girls' father, and he shook his head as he told the man,
"If I have need of you, I will come to your home to meet. We will communicate in writing as much as possible. Absolutely no family visits until further notice."
"But, My Lord," Cygnus began, and Voldemort snarled,
"I said that there are to be no family visits. Does this look helpful to you? Get the girls home. Now."
Cygnus looked frightened, but he nodded and mumbled, "Yes, Master. Come, Narcissa. Andromeda."
Narcissa scurried to her feet and squeezed at Bellatrix's hand as she passed by. Andromeda moved silently by Bellatrix, but as she passed Voldemort, he said,
"Andromeda."
She looked up at him, and Voldemort reminded her,
"There are consequences to fraternising too closely with Mudbloods. It would do you well to remember it."
Andromeda said nothing. She just followed Cygnus and Narcissa out of the room. Once they were gone, Bellatrix let her tears spill, and she said quietly,
"My Lord, I am so -"
"Go to your rooms," Voldemort said sharply. He was still holding her wand, but Bellatrix did not dare ask for it back. She gulped hard and started to walk by him. She bowed her head and whispered another apology as she passed. He reached for her shoulder, and when she looked at him, he asked very seriously,
"When I suggested to you on Christmas Day that there should be more formality between you and I, what exactly did you think I meant?"
Bellatrix's eyes seared as she remembered how, an hour and a half earlier, he'd had her face in his hands, which had been covered in the gloves she'd knitted for him. He'd been newly recovered from the pleasure she'd given him, and he'd told her that he loved her. But he seemed very angry now. His hand tightened on her shoulder.
"What did you think I meant, Bellatrix?"
She shrugged and admitted, "I thought… erm… I thought that you were suggesting that someday… someday I might be your… girlfriend."
"My girlfriend." He shut his eyes. He did not seem amused; he was not laughing at her. He let go of her shoulder and whispered, "Is that really what you thought?"
There was silence for a very long moment then, and he handed her her wand back. She silently tucked it away and listened as he said in a quiet voice,
"You will not be allowed any visitors or social events until I can be certain you can exhibit real self-control. If you cast a jinx, hex, or curse, you will go to Azkaban, and I will not be able to protect you. I do not care if it is New Year's Eve. Go to your rooms."
Bellatrix hesitated, but she finally walked off, saying over her shoulder, "Happy birthday, My Lord."
Author's Note: Blow job lemon! Fight with Andromeda! Oh, my! And she really had no idea what he was asking on Christmas. What now? How will he be sure she can exhibit that self-control? Hmmm… A HUGE HUGE HUGE thanks to all those who have left feedback; I appreciate it so very much.
