Harry woke to a tapping, a gentle tapping, against his collarbone. That was odd; he rarely woke to light and benign touches.
Harry slowly opened his eyes, a habit he'd picked up, to avoid the sunlight which would routinely blind him from the lack of protection the cell possessed. His eyes fully opened, but no sunlight was burning his eyes. No, something was in its way.
That something was a woman.
The woman was, unfortunately for Harry, beautiful. She was blocking the rays of the sun from his eyes. Ordinarily, someone would be thankful for that, but not for him. This woman was his tormentor.
Even with Harry's reluctance to admit it; He was enthralled with all of her, from her curly black hair that cascaded wonderfully down to her lower back. To Bella's high cheekbones that only proved to emphasise her already bewitching features. Her eyes that once were vibrant had dimmed somewhat from her stay, but the colour was an ever-beautiful violet. Even to Harry, though her body was slim, malnourished even, from lack of proper meals for far too long, it still held the curves any man desired and every woman wished for.
The woman, Bella, was staring unblinkingly at him, her face only about a foot away from his own. She didn't say a word, though, nor did she move. Bella just stared.
This went on for a while longer, the two of them just staring into the other's eyes, no words spoken, no touches shared, just their eyes locked together in an eternal battle.
Eventually, Bella got bored. She brought her hand up to Harry's face. Bella gave a slow stroke along Harry's right cheek. Careful in her effort, as to not hurt him. That's what Harry told himself anyway, convincing himself that she would not hurt him. Harry focused on the touch, the smooth hand which was now cupping his cheek. Harry felt safe when Bella was kind. When she would stroke him. When she would just hold him without a word. But those times were short-lived.
In mere moments, Bella had begun giggling. Moving atop his slender frame and straddling his lap. What once was a welcoming, soft-featured face was replaced; features turned deranged. In mere moments, gone was the happy feeling that had pooled in his chest. Gone was the rare sense of bliss. It was replaced by dread, pure fear of what Bella was about to do.
Instead of Bella's face blocking the sun, ominous clouds replaced it.
She smiled at him, not a smile that inspired kindness and love, not a smile that felt friendly. No. This was a smile that promised pain.
Bella leaned close to Harry's ear, giggling softly, "Does little Harry want to play?" She cooed in a baby voice.
Bella gave Harry's ear a lick, from the bottom of the lobe to the top of the helix.
"Little Bella wants to play." Bella giggled merrily.
"Oh, will Harry play with Bella? Pretty please." Bella asked rhetorically.
Harry didn't give her a response. He rather silently willed Bella to get off. She wouldn't.
"Didn't you enjoy the last time we did this?" Bella questioned. Her eyes, which had been soft, flashing with annoyance before turning soft once more.
"I thought you liked me..." Bella whined, though her eyes displayed something different.
Harry remained silent, remaining as still as a post. His eyes never leaving her frame, as if when his gaze left her frame: He'd be attacked within an instant.
Bella didn't like this, though. Her outward appearance remaining calm and composed, but Harry could tell that wasn't the case. Harry could tell by just looking into her eyes the mood that Bella was in.
Within just a moment, Bella's hand was wrapped harshly around his throat. Her previously calm and welcoming demeanour was gone, replaced by the unstable and deranged person she was.
"I asked you a question." Said Bella, her voice authoritative.
"No... No, I didn't," Harry choked out, briefly shifting his eyes to either side of Bella.
Harry felt the hand tighten around his throat, cutting off his oxygen almost completely.
"Lies! We both know it." Declared Bella.
Bella closed the distance between their faces once again. Her face was mere inches from his own. Letting Harry smell her prominent aroma, something he wouldn't ever admit he found terribly delightful.
"We both know you enjoy this. I can feel that you enjoy it as we speak." Pushing her hips against his own, proving her point.
"Why can't you admit it!" Bella challenged. Wiggling her hips, taking a deep-seated pleasure in it.
"You're a psychopath who murders for fun," Harry said through gritted teeth, attempting to suppress the brilliant feelings he was getting.
"And you're not?" Bella deadpanned.
"What happened to your dear relatives again... I forgot," Bella said, shining him a vicious, predatory grin.
"That was different," Said Harry, his voice quiet, not having any strength to it.
"Different? Really? Or are you just saying that; trying to convince yourself of the lies you want to believe? Wish were true?" Bella probed relentlessly.
"Why can't you accept that you enjoyed what you did? We both know you did... You don't have to lie to me. Bella will keep your little secret. Pinkie promise," Her voice full of mirth, regaining the once-lost baby quality.
"I had no choice," Harry pleaded.
"You're lying to yourself! Do you think some filthy muggles could pose any real threat to a wizard? No. You wanted them dead, you wanted to see the life drain from their eyes, wanted them to suffer like they made you suffer." Bella looked deeply pleased by this, eyes shining with pleasure as she unrelentingly deconstructed what she thought he was like, with no facade.
She moved in close to his ear once again, licking the length of his jawline and breathing deeply into his skin.
"Oh, yes. You took pleasure in their deaths, you relished in watching all hope fade from their eyes, loved the look of complete helplessness you'd created. After all... They deserved it." Bella whispered into his ear, giving it a little nibble.
"Why are you saying this?" Harry ground out, his voice hoarse.
"Don't you see?" Bella giggled.
"You attempt to stand on the moral high ground. You dearly want to believe you're better than me... But we both know the truth: you're a cold. Blooded. Killer."
"What would dear old mum and dad think? Would they be proud of who you are? Do you think they'd love you?" She mocked cruelly.
Harry's eyes glazed over slightly.
"You wouldn't know, though, would you? I've heard you when the Dementors come... I've heard the pleas you cry out as you re-watch that moment over and over again." She sneered nastily.
"We both know, though, they wouldn't love you. James and Lily wouldn't call you their son. No, they'd cast you out as the black sheep." Bella was enjoying every second of this, enjoying the control she had. The lack of fight in him, relishing in the loss of hope in his eyes.
In a moment, he'd changed the tune, kicking her off of him and pinning her to the ground. He felt triumph for the first few seconds before he saw the expression on the witch's face.
She had a deranged look sewn across her features, marring the natural beauty of it. She was enjoying the back and forth. Taking great pleasure in how the situation had turned.
"What's the big bad Harry Potter going to do now that I'm at his mercy." Bella taunted, not at all worried about the situation at hand.
"You want to know why I killed my relatives?" Harry spat.
"If you were treated as a house-elf, beaten and burned. Bruised and malnourished, you would've done the same." He said through gritted teeth, a lone tear falling from his face and landing on the corner of Bella's mouth.
Harry saw Bella's pupils dilate for a split second. "The big bad muggles hurt poor little you? Yes, they certainly deserved their untimely demise." Licking away the tear from her face.
"But that doesn't make you any different from me... Any normal person would've gone to the authorities, but you took matters into your own hands." She praised.
Harry got up off of her, walking over to the other side of the small cell. Huddling himself into the corner. Harry sat silently, burying his face in his knees, ignoring all Bella may throw at him.
Bella got up a minute after him, sitting down almost atop him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders, and bringing him into a hug. Bella had seemed to, uncharacteristically, realise she'd gone too far and was attempting to calm him down.
"They deserved what they got," Harry eventually whispered into her lap.
"They did," Bella answered, for once, sincerely.
The both of them sat for a while longer, not talking, just sitting and waiting, waiting for the wardens to come.
oooooooooooo
A/N: As per suggestion from a reviewer, I'm going to put the rough timeline of events in this author's note.
The first three years follow a similar timeline, only with Harry having a closer relationship with Dumbledore. Fourth-year, the Tri-wizard tournament happened but Harry wasn't entered, so he had a free year. Fifth-year was a normal year, no Umbridge, no ministry, no Voldemort return; just OWL's. Hope that clears a few things up.