A/N: I don't even know where to begin with this one other than to say that I've never attempted to write these two characters in the same room and would like to apologize for any obscenely OOC moments. That being said, Arthur is meant to be at least a little off-canon on purpose. This is the oddest friendship I've ever written.
This is late because my muses got in the way with a different fic and then life got in the way when I was going to write it this past week, but the fact that it's been written at all should be considered impressive.
Written for S9 R6 of the QLFC.
Team character claimed: Arthur
Seeker: Arthur/Bellatrix
TW: Mentions of torture, discussion of murder
Word Count: 1,176
"Bella!" He bounces into the room. She is sitting, posture perfect, in the high-backed chair Arthur stole from his parents when he was a fifth year.
"What?" Bellatrix snaps.
"I found this outside the stoop. Thought it might be of some use." Arthur holds up the shiny Muggle instrument.
"What the hell is that?"
"Not sure." He shrugs. "I believe they call them pliers. A handyman must've dropped them on his way by."
"Great." She sighs. "Have you seen Rodolphus recently?"
"He said he'd be across town all day. Probably scavenging in Diagon Alley."
Arthur throws himself onto a chair, twirling the pliers in his fingers. He watches Bellatrix's quill move furiously across the page. They are not supposed to be on any missions currently. The Dark Lord has told them to lay low for a few days while information is collected concerning the recent disappearances of several Death Eaters.
It is incredibly boring sitting in the basement of some godforsaken little house on the far reaches of London day in and day out. With so little to do and so few people to entertain themselves with, going absolutely mad feels nearly impossible.
He is content to have downtime with his friends, but being trapped with Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange every day can be exhausting.
"What're you writing?" He asks, legs positioning themselves over the chair edge so he's splayed out like a cat.
"A letter."
"Anyone I know?"
"No one that concerns you." She says. "Nothing any of us do these days is of any importance, after all."
"True that."
Arthur Weasley is 20 years old, and he's about to be bored to death by the dry discussions concerning quite literally nothing that he is still having with Bella. He tries a different approach, still toying with the pliers, distantly wondering if they'll reveal their secrets to him if he simply throws them around enough.
"So," He starts, "Any news on your possible engagement?"
"I don't think Rodolphus has the guts to ask. I've already got a ring, I might as well simply announce that we are engaged to him and get it done with. Stupid bastard that he is."
Bella hates her husband-to-be. Arthur doesn't entirely understand why she'd marry someone she hates so much, only that she claims it's out of a "family obligation". While his own parents have nagged him for years about the nature of his own non-existent love life, Arthur feels no obligation to appease them.
She claims it's very different for women.
"I expect he's more prepared than you think." He's not defending Rodolphus, not really. Bellatrix knows he's a loyal friend through and through, these are only silly comfort words.
"Well, if he is, I do hope he'll enact it soon. If we continue running around on missions we're likely to end up dead before we are married."
"You think death is likely?"
"I think that while we are protected, death is simply one of many expected results in any situation. Might as well prepare." Bellatrix says, finally turning to look at him.
Her eyes are hollow, familiar dark circles surrounding them. Whatever she's been writing is sitting on the desk in an envelope under her pale fingers. Arthur doesn't bother with a welcoming smile. He rarely does these days.
"Well, in that case Bella, I'll inform Rodolphus that he needs to ask tonight or you'll throw him on the streets. A nice shove might finally make him realize how dire the circumstances are." He says.
"I knew I could trust you, Arthur." She shows teeth in her cold smile.
"We both know there's only air in that brick head of his."
"Any news from above?" Bellatrix changes the subject abruptly. The discussion of future married life bores her, this Arthur knows well.
"Oh, the typical disasters. The world's falling apart, according to everyone you run into on the street, Muggle or wizard alike." He says, sinking further into the chair.
"Fantastic."
"You could use some time outside, Bella. We should go to a pub sometime."
"What part of lying low do you not understand?" She asks, shaking her head. "We're stuck here whether you like it or not."
"Yes but that doesn't mean a respite isn't available."
She mutters something under her breath. He does not ask for further clarification. Bella continues to be incredibly cautious about stepping outdoors while they're stuck here, and there is very little that could coax her aboveground. Rotting in this place is the only thing she believes any of them are good for anymore.
Arthur shoves himself out of the seat and approaches the bookcase, staring up at the collection dully. Life is boring when they're unable to torture Mudbloods - even a book can't compare to that sort of rush of emotions.
"I feel like I've read all of these." He says, turning to look at Bellatrix, who raises one eyebrow.
"That'd take a damn long time." She replies.
"I doubt it."
Teasing. It comes naturally to them, as friends, as family, it is easy to bicker about ridiculous things with one another. Arthur is often grateful for it, Bella can be tricky to navigate when it comes to her general emotions on a daily basis, and he uses this as protection.
"I wouldn't have had the time to read all of these if you'd allow us to go out at least once to a real place." He's spent ages walking around parks.
"A real place where we might simply vanish from existence."
"I'll vanish from existence the next time I have to read one of these books." He says, placing the pliers on the bookshelf to pick a book up and waves it at her.
"Good. Maybe then you'll shut up."
"Oh, come off it Bella. Let's go to one place. It doesn't need to be a nice pub. I haven't had a proper drink since we were shoved down here three weeks ago!"
She is silent for a moment, stormy eyes watching him. Her hands come to rest under her chin as if she is seriously considering the offer.
"Alright." She says, finally, nodding very slowly. "Where?"
"There's this little one called Dragon's Foot,"
"Dragon's Foot has shitty ale." Bella grimaces.
"It's a place." He reminds her.
"Fine, fine. Dragon's Foot it is."
Arthur allows a small victorious smile to cross his face. She has already turned back to the desk, pulling out another sheet of paper, telling him to shut up indefinitely with just a few movements.
It's all he can ask for. At least for the next few hours he has a ridiculous book about a dragon-slaying Pureblood to read. He settles back into his chair, ignoring the glare Bella sends his way at his whistled tune.
"If Rodolphus whistles as much as you when we're finally married, I'm going to kill him."
"I'm glad my expectations of you becoming a spouse-murderer will be fulfilled."
"Read your book, Arthur, or I'll murder you first."
He hides his next grin in the pages of the hardcover book.