The world is one, life is one. The sweetest and most heavenly of activities partake in some measure of violence - the act of love, for instance.
Anthony Burgess - A Clockwork Orange
***
The stream wound ahead like a thin silver ribbon, colours of the trees reflected on it's broken-glass surface, small coloured stones shining on it's bed like buried treasure. The leafy branches above stretched across to meet each other, creating a soft, whispering roof. Sunlight shone through chinks in the leaves, patterning our skin and throwing diamonds on the water. It felt like we'd found our own private kingdom.
We'd been walking for hours, walking with no direction though baking fields and cool green woods. He kept asking me what I was trying to find, and I kept replying I didn't know yet, but I knew it was there. I was lying. I knew that we would stop when we reached the stream running through Hangleton Forest. It was secret, private, hidden from the world. A place to leave inhibitions behind, become a raw, stripped-down version of yourself. When we got there, I feigned surprise at finding such a secluded spot.
We stood at the bank, watched the butterflies dance through bars of light, listened to the flutes of birdsong flowing from the trees. The air felt fresh and damp, like a cold shower on a boiling day. I was suddenly aware of my dress sticking uncomfortably and my feet slithering inside spongy trainers. I felt dirty and untidy, out of place in this magical world where everything was pure. I glanced over at Sirius, seeing the grimy streaks of sweat on his forehead and the damp patches where his T-shirt clung to his oily skin and knew he was thinking the same thing.
I turned to him, that daring look in my eyes that I knew always made him want to do back flips.
I will if you will, I said, nodding my head towards the water and grinning, small pink tongue pointed from between neat pearly teeth. All according to plan, my sweet.
Normally he would have given me a shove and called me crazy, we could get diseases doing something like that, but something about the bright lights and damp air and surrounding green wall of forest made us both feel cut off from the world. Something inside him seemed to have finally broken free, we could do anything we liked and it would stay here, a secret absorbed in the trees.
I could have done it when she was asleep. I could have crept silently through pools of morning light, paused for a moment at her bedside to marvel at the smooth white cheek pressed on hewn brown pillow. The slightest flick of the wand and a whispered Imperio, and she'd have been as resistant as a doll in my arms.
But I didn't want to spare her any pain. I didn't want to cradle her limp and oblivious. I wanted to hear her scream, feel her thrash underneath me like a trapped, startled swan, ultimately make her realise she could do nothing but succumb if she wanted to be my 'most faithful Death Eater'. It amused me that I could turn something she held with such honour into something so fraught with violence, how I could make her choose between rape and falling from grace. Except, it wasn't a choice at all. I would have raped her anyway.
My body; flailing, kicking out at the marble sides of the tub, smashing frenzied arcs of water through the air. His mouth smiling against my skin, long, jointed fingers clawing at my waist, running deep scratches across my stomach. A murmur in my ear.
-Would you deny your Lord, your leader? This act is vital to my accent to power. Is that not what you want, my faithful servant? Do you wish to turn away from your Master? We both know what penalty that will bring.
*
In one fluid movement I was peeling off my dress, wriggling free of the damp cotton and throwing it defiantly into the wood, where it hooked onto a branch. He laughed and followed my lead, flinging his T-shirt after it. He pulled his shorts away, and we both kicked out of our sweating trainers. I curled my toes over the chilled, dark rocks, feeling the heat sizzle away like steam and a delicious relief spread all over my body.
We stood by the water, holding hands, him in blue boxers, me in a grubby white training bra and underpants. I felt a tingling sensation crackle through my veins, as if touching his hand plugged me into a muggle electricity socket. The moist, pale air bit our skin, prickled our pores. I looked at the shadows of the leaves above patterning his smooth tan chest and the damp curls of hair below his navel and wanted to kiss him badly. I'd never been this close to a boy before, close enough to almost taste, read his thoughts.
We'll go on three, I said quietly. He nodded. One…two…three
*
I twist away, cracking my elbow on the stone bed of the basin, sending a cloud of blood through the water. Unadulterated panic, clawing at the ledge of the bath, scrabbling like an upturned beetle. The room spins red and he plucks me away, hugs me to his soaking chest once again, strokes my ragged, dripping hair. My screams shatter on the stone ceiling, my fists drum his body fuelled by a hate I have never experienced before. He only laughs. Strong arms squash me down and I fold like wet paper. Trapped underwater, held drowning and screaming shoals of bubbles, beating against the stone and breaking the skin, bleeding. Only when I fall silent and my punches become feeble, kittenish, does he hoist me up like a loving father.
*
We jumped, landing with a glorious splash that sent flocks of birds screeching from the trees and a ripple through the air. Cool, clear waves slithered over my body, his hands cupped my waist, his face reached towards mine and we were under the water, hair streaming and entwining, our lips touching for the first time, packed together like cherries on peaches.
It was a slow, long kiss. His tongue felt soft and expert in my mouth. I moved my hand and placed it on his cheek bone, feeling the flutter of his eyelashes on my fingers. We only stopped when we had to come up for air.
He was gasping a little when we reached the surface, and not just because he needed to breathe. I madly tried to remain composed, though I felt an odd stirring in the pit of my stomach and a flurry of exuberance in my head…this was better than I planned. Going further would be no problem.
Water streamed off our bodies and twinkled in the sunlight, our skins encrusted in crystal. I heard the trill of the birds and hum of the honeybees mingling with the slapping of the water on the rocks. I felt the squidge of soft mud between my toes and began to laugh.
-You're a good kisser, he said, shock and delight and fear swirling in his eyes.
-So are you I replied, truthfully. It sounded so inadequate against what I'd just experienced, though I'd never let him know that.
He kissed me again, and, breaking through all blocks in his mind, slid his hand over my shoulder so the strap of my bra slipped down.
-You do realise that thing's gone totally transparent? he muttered sloppily, his lips against the corner of my mouth.
-And you're just playing the concerned gentleman by telling me? I asked, mock-seriously.
-Of course, he replied, and unhooked it with one deft flick of the fingers. I peeled the damp material from my breasts and threw it onto the rocks. After that there was a lot of splashing, and many more birds flew disturbed from their branches.
*
-Enough of this charade, faithful Bellatrix. I have taken a draft of fertility potion that ensures you will fall pregnant with my son. My son will be key to our victory in the second war. This is an honour for you, for your family. Rodolphus would be proud.
Before I can splutter my reply, before I can unscrew my eyes from their stinging, waterlogged blindness, I feel him hitch up his drenched robe and thrust upon me in one burning, jerking wrench. I scream my final scream and collapse against him, exhausted, annihilated, surrendering. For the first time in many years, I can feel what others would call my heart begin to break.
*
The light changed as the sun sank. Low flares of red and orange cut through the branches and a breeze picked up that sent chill ripples through the water. Sirius and I lay naked and pure on the bank, our bodies shining. Damp feathers of hair stuck to my cheek and jewels clung to my eyelashes. His hand moved and closed over mine, oddly warm and ingrained with soft mud. I felt like part of the kingdom now, an extension of the rocks and water and swirling leaves.
Time to go. The family would be worrying. We stood and faced each other, like Adam and Eve forced to leave paradise. Put our clothes on slowly and painfully, as if donning protection suits for the outside world. On the way out, through the trees, I kept my eyes shut so I couldn't remember the way. I didn't want to come back and spoil the memory. I could preserve it forever, pick through the forest trail to where the bright lights shone and the leaves quivered, relive it in my mind.
I left the pool with squelching feet slapping like whip cracks on the chilled flagstones. My robe hung heavily and lashed against my legs, berating me. The candles, crimson flames low and stationary, created a dark, deep red glow around the central basin.
I turned nonchalantly to regard my son's mother, floating inanimate in the scarlet water, black hair trailing around her like an exploded halo. Her eyes, always alive with deceit, had dimmed to an empty mist. Her mouth, so often curved in a snarl or wicked grin, lay slack as dead meat. I worried for my child. If Bella were to die, there would be no chance for any of us.
Kneeling at the side of the bath, I leant and pulled the body to me by the crook of its elbow and lifted it clearly, water mixed with blood running from it and staining my robe.
She felt limp and rubbery, breath wheezing in disjointed gasps, a cradled, alien Bella. It occurred to me that I had never held a woman in my arms before. For a moment, I was lost in white wet limbs, flopping, broken, bleeding, beautiful. My doing. My power. Her pain.