Author's Note: Welcome to Smutland! Please enjoy this lemon playground and character origin story.
Warnings: Muggle non-con. I am not a fan of gratuitous violence; any instances will be necessary to the plot and origin story. The chapter titles will often indicate. This is a story of a Dark and formative time in Snape and Bella's lives, with plenty of non-con - consider this an overall warning. Going forward there will be no more individual chapter warnings.
Chapter 1: New Boy
From behind the fringe of her dark curls, the witch watched as the Malfoy heir delivered the winning blow. Straightening from his dueling stance, he blew a wisp of golden hair out of his face and holstered his wand. Avery lay on the ground, teeth gritted in pain as he attempted to sit up. Lucius didn't help him.
One of the many sycophants—there seemed to be more every day—came running up to Malfoy with a handkerchief, which the latter used to wipe his hands before dropping on the ground for the little tosser to pick up. Malfoy strode smoothly to the bound Muggle girl and snapped his fingers. The ropes around her feet fell away and she followed him into the Manor, looking relieved he had won instead of his ferret-nosed opponent.
She shouldn't have been. What he would do would be far worse than any other Death Eater was capable of.
Bella had seen her sister's fiancé take countless conquests behind closed doors. Some eventually reappeared, in some state or other. Others didn't.
Bella had delved into Cissy's mind regularly to ensure Lucius wasn't treating her sister similarly, but it had all been quite chaste. If anything, Malfoy seemed almost hesitant to touch Narcissa, as if she were a flower he didn't want to mar.
It had always been that way. Andy, when she was still with the family, had been the tomboyish version of Bella, the one everyone loved joking with. Cissy was the delicate one with the prim manners and fancy affectations.
And Bella. She was beautiful; that was clear. But there was something about her that made men either want to hurt her, or cower in fear.
It was because she was damaged. By the love that had her enslaved. And even before that, when she had taken the brunt of her father's unclean disdain to shield the younger two.
Bella pushed her hair out of her face and shook clear the memories. It was no use dwelling in what could not be changed. She turned into the Manor.
On her way to the grand staircase, she passed the servants' quarters. A door was ajar, and she could see Lucius standing over the naked Muggle, pounding forcefully into her throat. The familiar choking sound filtered into the hallway. This would only be the beginning for the girl.
Bella moved past the doorway. Malfoy always did this. He seemed to enjoy it more when there was an audience. There was a time when Bella had been on the skewered end of a spit roast between Lucius and the Mulciber boy, but that had been at Hogwarts, in those innocent days when an orgy in the Slytherin boy's dormitory was the scandal of the time. Malfoy had been 15 then, already a full-length cock on his still-thin body.
She'd just reached the bottom step when the front door cracked open and a figure slipped into the hall. He stopped when he saw her, and they stood wordlessly for a moment, taking each other in.
Bella's bottom lip curled. He wasn't at all handsome, or particularly tall. His entirely black clothing—waistcoat over a button-front, trousers—only emphasized how thin he was. His black hair hung lankly around his face, which was all severe angles. But the way he stood there, brand new yet unafraid, looking poor and close to dirty amidst the opulence intrigued her.
The high, almost equine cheekbones coupled with a prominent, hooked nose gave him a regal mien at odds with the thin quality of his clothes. What had made her lip curl, however, was the mongrel look in his coal eyes: a hungry, uncontainable look that would never be satisfied.
Men like that knew how to fuck.
But he was yet a boy, his lips in a defensive pout seen on schoolchildren who'd taken a walloping a time too many.
There were always two kinds who joined: those who'd grown too used to power to give it up, and those who finally tired of never having any.
It was the latter who made the truest Death Eaters.
"There he is!" Malfoy's voice rang out behind her.
Bella blinked from her reverie as Lucius sauntered past her, his long hair now flowing freely over his shoulders and his shirt unbuttoned half down his ample chest. Clearly the first round had relaxed him.
Malfoy slung a muscular arm around the boy's narrow shoulders. To his credit, the boy didn't sway under Lucius' sudden weight.
"Bella, you know who this is?" Malfoy drawled.
"No, Lucius, I do not know every single one of your minions," she said in a bored voice.
"Ha!" Malfoy clapped the boy on the back. "This is no minion. This is like a little brother to me."
Bella arched an eyebrow. "Really? I've never heard mention of him."
"Ignore sourpuss," Malfoy said to the boy, pulling him past her. "Come. You ever bugger a Muggle?" He started dragging the boy towards the servants' quarters.
Bella drew up her skirts and started up the steps. "Well, family is about sharing, isn't it?"