I've been looking forward to writing this for months. Warnings for language and a dark/twisted theme. All the dialogue was written by JK Rowling and not by me because, in case you hadn't worked out by now, I am not JK Rowling.

The tainted love you've given,

I give you all a girl can give you,

Take my tears and that's not nearly all.

Oh, tainted love.

- Gloria Jones.

Cankerous

He is with her. Seated beside one another as King to her Queen, while they hold court amongst their nobility. Here, she is truly alive. They rule, as they will rule everything. Together, they are unstoppable.

Her Master is speaking about destroying Potter. The boy has meddled in their plans for too long. He can be disposed of easily, especially now Dumbledore is dead and the Dark Lord's has gained greater knowledge of the boy's luck thus far.

"I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter," the Dark Lord explains.

Bellatrix is sure she must have misheard. The Dark Lord has no need to borrow another's wand. His own weapon is powerful enough.

"No volunteers?" asks the Dark Lord, then turns to Bellatrix's brother-in-law, "Let's see… Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore,"

Lucius Malfoy looks up. His eyes have been glued to the table throughout the Dark Lord's speech. Coward. Barely able to look into his Master's eyes, despite the debt he owes the Dark Lord. Lucius owes their Master his freedom, his life and the life of his son. The least he can do is look the Dark Lord in the face.

"My Lord?" he croaks. Coward, Bellatrix growls in her head. Coward.

"Your wand, Lucius," the Dark Lord re-iterates, "I require your wand,"

Momentarily, Lucius stammers. Bella wants to shake him. When the Dark Lord asks, you do not hesitate. To be asked such a favour from their Lord is an honour. Bellatrix does not know what the Dark Lord needs a wand for, but it will be important. It will be magnificent. Bellatrix feels a flicker of jealousy spark inside her. She wishes that she had not hesitated when the Dark Lord asked this favour. She should have offered first. Now it is Lucius's wand which the Dark Lord will use to achieve his next goal. His wand which will be of service to the Dark Lord, and which will have the honour of being wielded by such majesty and might. After all his failings, Lucius does not deserve this. Bellatrix composes herself so as not to glare at her brother-in-law.

Lucius gets a hold of himself and withdraws his wand. The Dark Lord raises it and Bellatrix's eyes follow her Master's gaze. She cannot tell if he is merely scrutinising the wand, or preparing to use it. She holds her breath. The Dark Lord's magic is a thrill to behold. Beliefs in Mudblood gods are revolting, although there is a godlike quality about Bellatrix's Master. The power of him. And now she is basking in that power. His right-hand man. His most faithful servant. She was proved that there is no length she will not go to for him. She knows that she will keep proving it. She longs to keep proving it.

Which is more than can be said for Malfoy. When the Dark Lord asks what the wand is, Lucius continues to stutter and stall. And when the Dark Lord re-examines their wands, Lucius moves forward as if he believes the Dark Lord is about to swap wands.

The Dark Lord does not miss the movement. Bellatrix's Master does not miss anything.

"Give you my wand, Lucius? My wand?" he breathes, "I have given you your liberty, Lucius, is that not enough for you?"

The Dark Lord freed Lucius from Azkaban, despite Lucius' failing at the Ministry last year and despite Draco's proven impotence. Their Master is magnanimous.

The Dark Lord lets the question hang for a moment, then continues, "But I have noticed that you and your family seem less than happy of late. What is it about my presence in your home that displaces you, Lucius?"

Bellatrix's brother-in-law jolts. "Nothing - nothing, my Lord!" he insists hastily.

The Dark Lord's voice lowers. "Such lies, Lucius…"

Like her Master, Bellatrix is not conceited enough not to admit her own mistakes. She was mistaken about Lucius Malfoy. When she first knew him, Bellatrix liked and admired Malfoy. She encouraged Mother and Father to organise a match between Cissy and Lucius. Upon their escape from prison, Lucius allowed Bella and the Lestrange boys to live in his house. He seemed refined and intelligent and strong. Now, Bellatrix knows that his strength is a mask. Malfoy is weak, feeble-minded and cowardly, not to mention incompetent, and his son is the same. Lucius does not know how to behave in the Dark Lord's presence. One does not stammer or stall in front of their Master. One does not yelp and exclaim. And one does not, ever, lie.

"Why do the Malfoys look so unhappy with their lot?" the Dark Lord asks, as his snake winds its way around his shoulders, "Is my return, my rise to power, not the very thing they professed to desire for so many years?"

The Dark Lord's resurgence is not only what Bellatrix desired. It is what kept her alive. Many prisoners kill themselves in Azkaban, or die from misery and neglect. Bellatrix knew that death was not a choice for her. She had to stay alive for her Master. He would return to the world one day, and she would return to him. If not suicide, Azkaban drives many to insanity. For years Bellatrix had heard the screams of the deranged down the corridors. She knew she could not become one of them. She had to keep her wits, her beliefs and her identity. She had to remember why she was locked up and why it was worth it. She could never lose sight of what she was fighting for. Instead of making her lose her mind, Azkaban galvanised Bellatrix's convictions. She had lost contact with her sister, parents and Death Eater family. She could only hear Rodolphus and Rabastan from along the corridor. She had no house or money, and her family connections were of no significance to the prison guards. She had nothing to entertain her. She was powerless. She had lost all the trappings of the lifestyle she had enjoyed. Her Lord had vanished. All she had left was faith.

Bellatrix had left prison sharper, bolder and more determined than ever to serve her Lord. She was ravenous to return to his cause and to do his bidding. She had proved that the infamy and power which the Dark Lord's campaign provided her were not important. It was the cause itself which she valued above all else. Prison had proved this to Bellatrix, and Bellatrix had proved this in prison.

Back in the Malfoys' dining room, Lucius is fidgeting like a schoolboy. "Of course, my Lord," he murmurs, "We did desire it - we do,"

Malfoy is making mincemeat of this. Bellatrix glimpses Narcissa gazing worriedly at her son, and decides to take this discussion into her own hands. She lurches forward so hard that the edge of the table wedges against her belly.

"My Lord, it is an honour to have you here in our family's house. There can be no higher pleasure," Bellatrix interjects. Her voice is hoarse from thinking about what she proved in Azkaban, and it gets hoarser on the words "in our family's house". Malfoy Manor has been her home for the last year and a half, so as much of a disappointment as Lucius and Draco are, the Manor counts as Bellatrix's home. And her Master has chosen to base himself here.

"No higher pleasure. That means a great deal, Bellatrix, from you," the Dark Lord approves. Bella could erupt with pride.

"My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth!" she responds fervently. Lucius lies to their Master. Snape, for all his success in murdering Dumbledore, is untrustworthy. Wormtail is an imbecile. Mulciber believes his own lies, and Rowle obeys Dolohov above the Dark Lord. Only Bellatrix can be relied upon to tell their Master the truth every time.

Her Master is eyeing her thoughtfully. Bellatrix's skin is flushed, her heart's hammering and her body feels hot. Her Master can have this effect merely by looking at her. Rodolphus could never make her feel this way.

"No higher pleasure," the Dark Lord muses, and Bellatrix nods, "Even compared with the happy event that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?"

Bellatrix stops nodding. What? She doesn't understand. She gazes at the Dark Lord intently, making eye contact. They have a strong, sacred connection, and if she looks at him closely she will be able to decipher his meaning.

"I don't know what you mean, my Lord," Bellatrix says out loud.

"I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord explains. Bellatrix is again puzzled. She has no niece. There is only Draco.

"And yours, Lucius and Narcissa," her Master continues, "She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin,"

Lupin. Bellatrix knows that name. Lupin is the werewolf in the Order of the Phoenix. He is one of the many fools who attempt to protect Potter. He is a beast- filthy and feral. The type of scum Dumbledore simpered over, until the Dark Lord had him snuffed from life.

It takes another second for Bellatrix to register the Dark Lord's meaning, and when she does, she almost flinches. By "niece" her Master is referring to Andromeda's half-blood child. Bellatrix reels, and then, as the information sinks in further, she feels sick. She has just married the werewolf. Andromeda's half-blood has married a werewolf.

Bellatrix gazes at her Master, bemused. He is smirking at her now, mouth curling as he concludes, "You must be so proud,"

Bellatrix can tell from her Master's expression that this news is true. Narcissa's dining room seems blur and spin. Andromeda's half-blood ragamuffin has married a werewolf. This is foulest, most despicable news Bella could ever have imagined. Andromeda running away with the Mudblood was a fiasco. It took Bellatrix years to convince her Master that her sister's selfishness and degradation did not reflect their family's views. The shock and shame almost ruined their parents. And now the spawn of Andromeda's disgraceful union has gone further. She has married somebody- something- less than human.

The Dark Lord's guests, lesser servants than Bellatrix, are crowing with mirth. Bellatrix's face is burning, and the tears of devotion in her eyes have turned to tears of shock, fury and humiliation. She must speak, she must cease the mockery and make the Dark Lord understand how revolted she is by this news.

"She is no niece of ours, my Lord," Bellatrix chokes out, "We - Narcissa and I - have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood,"

Andromeda was barely out of school and Bellatrix hadn't long been married to Rodolphus when it happened. Bella has managed to forget the details of her sister's elopement- now, she can only remember Mother shrieking, and Narcissa stepping off the Hogwarts Express in tears. Bellatrix can recall some details about Andy: her face, her birthday, the fact that she was skilled at fixing and mending. But Bella has managed to forget many other details about her sister. After the initial shock had worn off, it was easy. Andy was a traitor. She was not who Bellatrix thought she was. Therefore, the sister Bellatrix thought she'd lost wasn't a real person- certainly not the real Andy Black. If Andromeda had not been so devious, Bella would have known what she was, and she would not have loved her as her sister. Once the truth of what Andy was had been revealed, Bellatrix had no reason to mourn.

Bella knew that Andromeda and the Mudblood had a child, though she had filed this information away. She did not consider them for years, even during the endless, empty hours in Azkaban. After her escape, the news that the half-blood girl worked for the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix enraged Bella, although she pretended that this was only to do with her hatred for the Order, not Andromeda's half-blood urchin specifically. She endeavours to admit their connection as little as possible. At the Ministry last Summer, Bellatrix had duelled with the half-blood, and almost killed her although, presuming that he was the more dangerous one, she had turned her attention to Sirius. Now it transpires that that was a mistake. Sirius was powerful and unpredictable, but he had not desecrated their family in the way that Andromeda and now the daughter have.

All Bella can think to do is deny their relationship to the Dark Lord: "This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries,"

Bella would give anything for that to be true. But it isn't. Andy is her sister by blood, and blood is what matters. Bellatrix's pure, magical Black blood, untainted for so long, was begrimed with dishwater when Andromeda eloped with the Mudblood. And now it has been poisoned further with inhuman elements. It is an aberration. It is against nature. It is beyond grotesque and debased and loathsome. Bellatrix does not know a word which can describe what an atrocity it is, what a crime. She stares at her Master, desperate for him to understand, to agree, to tell Bellatrix that that is not her fault.

Instead, the Dark Lord turns to Bella's nephew. "What say you, Draco? Will you babysit the cubs?" he inquires.

His voice is gentle, and it makes Bellatrix want to smash her fist onto the table. Abhorrent images flicker through her mind: the half-blood slut in bed with a werewolf, a vial of pure, scarlet blood streaked with grey wolf's hairs, a half-human half-werewolf baby. And then the baby grown up, a lupine minotaur striding through Bellatrix's family home.

This cannot happen. They will not breed, they will not breed. A mongrel like that cannot exist. Bellatrix will tear it from the half-blood whore's womb with her own hands. The Black blood will not be polluted in this way.

"Enough," declares the Dark Lord, "Enough,"

Their guests stop cackling, but the sting of humiliation does not fade. Bellatrix is almost in tears. She wants to sob and she wants to vomit and she wants to smash up the table and cast Crucio on everybody around it who is tittering at her. She wants to sink to her knees and assure her Master that she knew nothing of this, that she is as enraged and repulsed as he is.

She holds her breath, waiting for her Master.

"Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time," the Dark Lord acknowledges, "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy?"

Her Master understands. There is no need to plead and beg and explain, because her Master does not blame Bellatrix for this. He will not let this barbarity diminish Bellatrix's loyalty to him. He is wise and forgiving, and he will not use this catastrophe against Bellatrix or her sister. Bellatrix bites in her sigh of relief.

"Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest," the Dark Lord elaborates. Bellatrix knew that already, and now her Master has given her the order.

"Yes, my Lord. At the first chance!" she breathes.

She will kill the girl. Tearing the pup from the womb would be too late. Such a monster cannot be allowed to exist at all. Such a marriage (Bellatrix feels queasy at the word. A union with a beast is not a marriage. It is an act of degradation, so heinous that it is violence. It is not merely against nature, it is flouting its unnaturalness) must be ended, by destroying the parties who have entered into it so selfishly and depravedly.

Bellatrix will put a stop to this monstrosity. Nature commands, the Dark Lord commands, that Bellatrix wipe out this aberration. She will do it. She will stop at nothing. There will be none of her usual fun, either, no humiliation or Crucio before she kills the girl. This is not a game. Andromeda's half-blood is as good as dead, and once the girl had been destroyed Bellatrix will kill the werewolf. Greyback, since finding out about the spy on his camp, has been desperate to get his hands on him, but Bellatrix will beat him to it. Greyback would be acting out of fury and revenge. Bellatrix will kill the half-blood girl's werewolf out of necessity. Greyback would surely make a mess of it too. He is outside now, where he belongs, tied up like a dog. He is powered by his own savagery and bloodlust; emotions will get in Greyback's way. Bellatrix is a solider. This is her duty and she will carry it out with discipline and pride.

Her Master approves. "You shall have it," he affirms.

Bellatrix attempts to hold his gaze so he can see the understanding and determination in his eyes. Her Master though, addresses the room. Holding court again.

"And in your family, so in the world," he pronounces, "We shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain,"

Yes, Bellatrix thinks, letting out a sigh of devotion, yes. She has failed to kill Andromeda's brat before. She will not fail again. She understands now that the half-blood's destruction must be her focus.

The Dark Lord moves on to discussing other matters. Usually Bella hangs on her Master's every word, though now she cannot concentrate. Two thoughts are squabbling inside her brain: the fact that she must kill Andromeda's half-blood, versus disbelief at the fact that the girl has married a werewolf. Bellatrix struggles to think of the words in a sentence in her head. How could the half-blood trollop do this? How could anybody? What has Andromeda been doing this last quarter-century, if her daughter can be so degenerate?

The vile images flit through Bellatrix's brain again: fur and blood and claws and teeth. A werewolf in a wedding dress. The sound of human breath mingled with canine grunting. Muddy pawprints stamped across the hallway of the house she grew up in. Teeth marks ripping through the Black family tree tapestry which hung in her aunt and uncle's house. Andromeda was blasted off the tree when she ran away. Her Mudblood husband and their daughter never appeared on it. And now Bellatrix will ensure that there are no further children in that line. She will ensure that, as Andromeda was wiped off the tapestry, her half-blood guttersnipe and the werewolf will be wiped off the face of the Earth.


Thank you for reading. I had a blast writing this chapter and would be very grateful if you reviewed. Have a fab Easter and stay safe xx.