"Bloody hell. Could it be raining any harder?" Rodolphus came to with Bellatrix just outside of Malfoy Manor and whipped up the hood of his waterproofed cloak. Not too far away, a bolt of lightning flashed, and it was immediately followed by a great crack of thunder. Bellatrix startled, touching at the book she'd tucked into her thick belt beneath her own rain cloak. The water that poured from the heavens soaked her curls as she dashed with Rodolphus toward the manor. She slipped on one of the marble stairs leading up to the front doors, and Rodolphus caught her arm, dragging her up. Bellatrix grappled to be sure that the book was still in her belt, and as she stood, she mumbled,
"Sorry."
"You all right?" Rodolphus shoved the door open, and Bellatrix nodded. On meeting days, there was no need to knock. They went striding into the foyer and saw a few other Death Eaters ahead of them. Rookwood was walking in, and beyond him were Yaxley, Avery, and Selwyn. Bellatrix shivered as she and Rodolphus climbed the foyer stairs, and she heard another rumble of thunder from outside.
"Dolph," called a voice from behind them, and Bellatrix turned to see her brother-in-law, Rabastan Lestrange, hustling toward them. Rabastan was more lean and dark than Rodolphus, with a pointy little beard and thin eyebrows. He trotted along the carpet runner until he caught up with his brother, and he noted, "Raining Pygmy Puffs out there, isn't it?"
"Lovely weather," Bellatrix smirked. "You know, I find I actually don't mind days like today. They energise me."
"Why am I not surprised to hear you say that?" Rabastan shook his head and grinned. "I'll let the two of you be the first to know… I'm going to ask Rosetta to marry me. Tonight, at dinner."
"Oh, that's wondrous," Rodolphus nodded. "I hope she says yes."
"Why on Earth would she say no, Dolph? Rosetta's no idiot," Bellatrix said. She flicked her eyes to Rabastan and said, "You ought to have done it last night, so that you could make an announcement at the meeting."
"I considered that," Rabastan said. "Rather lost my nerve."
Bellatrix scowled at him as the trio approached the meeting room. They walked inside, and Bellatrix surveyed the table. Abraxas and Lucius Malfoy were seated near the head of the table, owing to the fact that this was their house. Yaxley, Avery, Selwyn, Rookwood, Mulciber, all three Carrow Death Eaters, and both of the Greengrass siblings were seated. Bellatrix spotted three empty chairs to the left of Lucius Malfoy, and she walked toward them. She raised her eyes toward her lord and master, who was at the head of the table, and she locked gazes with him. Lord Voldemort's throat bobbed visibly, and his hands folded on the table. He tipped his head and observed in the quiet room,
"The rain has picked up, it seems."
Bellatrix realised her wild curls were soaked through, and she smiled weakly. She unclasped her rain cloak and hung it on the back of her chair, and she said,
"Indeed, My Lord, it is a veritable deluge."
"Bellatrix was just saying, Master, that she enjoys weather like this," joked Rabastan Lestrange, and Bellatrix rolled her eyes a little, opening her mouth to defend herself. But Voldemort curled up half his mouth and said,
"Yes. I suppose Bellatrix, of all people, would see the good in a tempest. Do sit; we've business to conduct."
His eyes went to her waist then, and she pulled out the small turquoise copy of Secure Safeguards For Diabolical Duels. She sank into her high-backed chair and scooted it in, its legs scraping the ground as she did. She set the book on the table and drummed her fingernails upon it, staring at its cover. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Horton Burke and Thymus Shacklebolt come in and sit. Then the statuesque but harsh-faced wife of Picardy Selwyn, who had for some reason not arrived with him, entered the room and sat as far away from her husband as she could manage. Lord Voldemort, it seemed, took note of the distance between the married Death Eaters and sighed just a little, but then he cleared his throat and said,
"Well. All whom I have Summoned are now here. I have brought you today to discuss the success of our latest mission, as well as to strategise for future endeavours. Yaxley… do tell. What has the Ministry's response been to what happened at that townhouse in London?"
"Complete fear and panic, My Lord," replied Yaxley at once. His confidence was striking to Bellatrix. He was a supremely self-assured wizard, she thought. His dusky blond hair was pulled back in a queue, and he looked around the table as he said, "Every department is scrambling to try to figure out how it is that an ambush like this was allowed to happen. Now, it's well-known that Albus Dumbledore is an enemy of the Dark Lord. And it's well-known that Dumbledore's got friends and allies of his own. But the Ministry does not seem to recognise that there's a real war on. The ineptitude of those in supposed power right now is truly staggering. They will be easily overcome if we continue to persevere."
"Hmm." Voldemort seemed quite pleased with that debriefing. He nodded slowly. "The self-imposed limits of what the Ministry will do to pursue us hobble them. The information with which they are operating is negligible. And we have soldiers…" He looked straight at Bellatrix then and spoke as if she were the only one in the room. "Soldiers willing to murder our enemies without a second's hesitation. Selwyn!"
Everyone at the table jolted a bit at the snap of Voldemort's voice. Bellatrix looked from Picardy Selwyn to his wife and then realised that Voldemort was speaking to the plump wizard with the bushy mustache. He nodded quickly, and Voldemort demanded,
"What have you heard of all this in the newsroom of the Prophet? What are they saying about us?"
"They are b-beginning to become afraid to write of you, My Lord," said Picardy Selwyn, "because they fear that giving you too much exposure will encourage more to join your cause. But the Editor-in-Chief says there is no choice. What's happening, our attacks, are the news, and the Prophet must report the news."
"Let's give them more news, then, shall we?" Voldemort said with a sneer, and a ripple of happy excitement went round the table. Voldemort said quite smoothly, "All of my spies, my plants in the Ministry, in Diagon and Knockturn Alleys, in Hogsmeade… I command you to gather as much information as you can, as thoroughly as you can. Keep your eyes and ears open at all times and report to me anything of note. Even if it is something you vaguely suspect might be of even a passing interest, I demand to be made aware of it. Am I understood?"
Francia Selwyn, Avery, Rookwood, and one of the Carrows nodded vigorously, and a few of the others murmured their assent. Voldemort continued,
"The next time we are drawn into combat, I wish for us all to look to our last battle and learn. There were mistakes made. Rodolphus Lestrange, you took a Knockback Jinx and were concussed right out of combat. Meanwhile, your wife blocked the same spell and murdered her enemy in cold blood in less than a minute."
Bellatrix glanced over to Rodolphus to see his pale cheeks go pink. He nodded and whispered something that Bellatrix could not hear. Bellatrix's own face felt warm, and when she looked back to Voldemort, he flicked his eyes around her before saying to the others,
"No hesitation will be permitted. I demand that you perfect your duelling abilities as much as you are able, through theoretical study and practical work. I insist that every single one of you who serves me in combat do so with the flinty resolve of an unrepentant killer, with the competence of a highly trained soldier. I already have these qualities in my ranks; I wish to see them expanded. Am I well and truly understood?"
"Yes, Master," said Rabastan Lestrange firmly. The others assented with nods, pats of the table, and mumbled verbal consent. Bellatrix just gulped. Voldemort dragged his fingers through his dark hair, with its little threads of grey, and he said,
"Dismissed, then. All of you except for Madam Lestrange."
Bellatrix had already told Rodolphus that she'd be staying after the meeting to return Lord Voldemort's book to him, so he wasn't surprised that she was held back. He put his hand on her shoulder and rose with the others, murmuring,
"See you at home."
"Try to stay dry, darling," Bellatrix replied, touching at his fingers. He pulled away, and she sighed as the room cleared out. She wasn't sure whether Voldemort wanted her to sit or stand, so she stayed where she was. Once the room was empty, and the doors had shut, she tapped the cover of the little turquoise book and said,
"Remittet. Rejicio. Redire Hexia. I have learnt the theory of all three Rebounding Shields, My Lord."
"Remittet," he repeated, staring straight at her. "You slash the wand down and it sends the spell straight back at the caster. What happens if they do the same to you? Does it just keep bouncing back and forth forever?"
"No." Bellatrix shook her head. "After more than one attempt at Remittet, one should move on to Rejicio."
"Why not just start there?" Voldemort tipped his head and narrowed his eyes, and Bellatrix knew he was testing her. She sucked on her lip and said,
"Rejicio involves a more precise wand movement, a swirl that takes longer to cast, and leaves one more susceptible to the spell hitting. It's preferable to begin with Remittet. The good thing about Rejicio is that it can be cast nonverbally, but, again, it's more time-consuming and leaves one more vulnerable."
"And what about Redire Hexia?" Voldemort inquired, dragging a finger along the edge of the wooden table. Bellatrix shivered a little, for some reason, at the sight of him doing that.
"Redire Hexia is a much longer-lasting type of Shield Charm that causes any Jinx or Hex that hits it to rebound straight back to its caster. It gives one protection, but it has a fatal flaw, which is that one can't cast out from within. For example, if one has a Redire Hexia shield up, a Knockback Jinx would fly off of it, but you'd have to take down the shield in order to cast an offensive spell. This takes time, leaves one vulnerable, and might give a false sense of security."
"So," Voldemort mused, raising his brows, "which method of Rebounding is preferable?"
Bellatrix huffed. "Frankly, My Lord, I think that an ordinary Protego followed by a very rapidly cast offensive spell is probably the best option in most combat situations. But these are useful spells to have in one's arsenal, in case one wishes to send Jinxes and Hexes flying back at casters whilst attending to multiple opponents at one -"
"Multiple opponents." Suddenly a little smile crossed Voldemort's face, and Bellatrix froze. Had she said something wrong? He licked his lip and dragged his finger over the edge of the table again and said, "Tell me more."
"Well," Bellatrix whispered, "I might… you know, if it were quite a large battle and I was fighting three at once or something, then I might need to kill one, send a Stunning Spell flying back at another, and then -"
"Mmm. I like the way you think." Voldemort reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. He aimed it at the little turquoise book on the table and nonverbally Summoned it, sending it skittering across the wood towards him. He caught it and turned it over in his hand, and then he set it down before him. He reached into his robe again, and Bellatrix saw him pull out what appeared to be a thin black leather book. She furrowed her brows as he pushed back his chair and rose, walking toward her. She flew to her feet at once; he must never stand whilst she sat. That was disrespectful.
Soon enough he was before her, and she could see now that the little black book in his hand was a notebook of sorts. There was no title on the cover. He held it out to her, and Bellatrix wordlessly accepted it, bowing her head. She opened the notebook and felt her heart begin to thunk in her chest at once.
Handwriting. Script, beautiful script, neat and tidy, filled the pages. He had written in here. This wasn't a published book. He'd written something down for her. Bellatrix blinked quickly and began to read his handwriting.
OCCLUMENCY - A Theoretical Analysis
Before you and I begin our practical exploration of Occlumency, there are several concepts I wish for you to digest, along with a few mindfulness activities that you ought to begin practising on your own.
"My Lord," Bellatrix breathed. She raised her eyes to Voldemort and shut the leather notebook, and he cleared his throat roughly.
"Before your Occlumency studies begin, I should like to see you show me your Rebounding work in a practise duel. Here, on the lawn on Malfoy Manor, once the weather clears up. I'm busy tomorrow; come on Tuesday afternoon. You'll have most of the Occlumency notes read by then, so you can ask any questions at that point."
"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix nodded frantically. She hugged the little notebook and promised, "I shall continue studying diligently."
"I know." He reached to tuck Bellatrix's curls behind her ear, and he smirked a little. "That rain really did soak your hair; it's still damp."
She sucked in air at the way he was observing such a thing about her. Then her eyes fluttered shut, because his fingers migrated from her hair along her jaw, and he bent down to touch his lips to hers. His breath was warm against her mouth as he murmured,
"No nonsense today."
"Yes, Master," Bellatrix whispered, but she heard his breath hitch. His other hand was suddenly at her side, along the outside of her thigh, and his fingers worked to pry up her black woolen skirt. Bellatrix gasped, and he kissed her again. This time, his tongue pressed into her mouth, and Bellatrix whimpered a little. She was still holding the leather notebook in which he'd written about Occlumency for her, and so her hands couldn't reach out to him like she wanted to do. Instead she just arched her back a little as his fingers bunched up her skirt, reaching the hem. Soon enough, his hand ventured beneath her skirt, and the backs of his knuckles brushed the inside of Bellatrix's thigh. She moaned helplessly into his kiss, and Voldemort finally released her face so he could tuck his wand away. He snared his fingers into Bellatrix's hair then, holding her tightly with one hand, kissing her, and dusting his knuckles up the inside of her leg.
She was lost, utterly lost to him. If someone would have asked her in that moment who Rodolphus Lestrange was, she would not have had any idea. The only wizard in the world who mattered to Bellatrix was Lord Voldemort. She flushed deeply wet as he trailed up toward her knickers, and when his mouth finally broke from hers, she whispered,
"Oh, help."
He wordlessly touched his forehead to hers and breathed through his parted, swollen lips, his eyes shut. He seemed rather affected by all this, and Bellatrix was compelled to attend to him. Surely she should put the book down, she thought, and part his robes and touch his cock. She should massage him until he found his satisfaction, until he came and made a grand mess. Messes could be cleaned up. But he suddenly hummed, as though he'd been in her head,
"Don't touch me. Not right now, Bella."
"Oh. Erm… yes, My Lord." Bellatrix was confused by that, but she obeyed. His fingertips made contact with the crotch of her cotton knickers then, and Bellatrix gasped desperately. Voldemort's hand cinched in her curls, and he touched his lips to hers as their breath mixed. He dragged his fingers slowly along the material, along the dampened barrier between his skin and hers, and he let out a low noise from the back of his throat.
Bellatrix wanted to scream, to squirm until he did more, but she stood there as he just continued in his course of action. One hand rubbed at her scalp, feeling her rain-kissed curls in his fist. His mouth brushed against hers, his lips rough and his breath warm. His other hand teased at the crotch of her sodden knickers, with just enough pressure to stimulate her but not enough to satisfy her. Bellatrix finally moaned and gripped his notebook so tightly that she was sure she'd somehow muster the strength to rip leather.
"Interesting," Lord Voldemort finally murmured onto Bellatrix's mouth, and when she screwed her eyes shut and managed to find enough breath to speak, she squeaked out,
"Wh-what's interesting, My Lord?"
"How profoundly aroused the human body can become from even the most subtle of contact," he observed, sounding just a little breathless himself. Bellatrix forced her eyes open, and he'd stood back a bit. He licked his lips as he stared down at her. His eyes were dark and sharp, and his cheeks were flushed, a deep rose colour. She watched his throat bob, and she wondered if he wanted her to touch him now. But he just blinked and asked,
"Would you like to finish?"
Bellatrix wasn't entirely certain that she'd understood his question correctly, and she did not want to answer him wrongly, so she chewed her lip and stayed silent. Then her mouth fell open and her breath came in heaving gasps, for he'd used his fingers to push aside the crotch of her knickers. His forefinger and middle finger twisted up into her swollen, soaked entrance, and his thumb pushed at her nub as he asked again, more tightly this time,
"Would you like to finish, Bella?"
"Yes, please, Master," she panted, buckling over a little and hugging the notebook to her chest. She felt his other hand comb her curls back from her face, and then he began to play with her hair, bunching it up in his fist and pulling a little. He yanked her face back just a bit and bent, crushing her mouth with the hardest kiss he'd ever given her. Bellatrix squealed up against him, shocked by the way his tongue curled with hers and yanked at her lip. Meanwhile, his other hand quickened, his fingers hooking and turning inside of her whilst his thumb played over her clit. He flicked and pushed at her most sensitive place, and Bellatrix realised that she was very quickly going to snap.
"Mmmph!" She whined onto his mouth and finally let go of the notebook with one hand, holding it to her chest with her left arm whilst her right fingers delved into Lord Voldemort's robes. She searched, reaching for his trousers, and when she discovered his erection, she cupped it and dragged her thumb over his trousers. She was disobeying him, she realised. He'd told her not to touch him. But she couldn't help herself. She wanted him so badly she could hardly breathe. He released her hair and took hold of her wrist, dragging her hand off of his bulge with a surprisingly gentle touch. His own thumb coursed around the inside of her wrist, and then he released her. All the while, he kissed her mercilessly and touched her with expert skill, and Bellatrix was flung off a ledge.
She felt no shame at all in the way the walls of her womanhood contracted around his fingers, nor in the way she flushed around his hand during her climax. She growled a bit into his kiss as she came, and his hand went back to her jaw to stroke her there a bit. She felt blinding heat take her over for a few moments, and when the overwhelming pleasure and the ringing in her ears had finally passed, she pulled back from Voldemort and gasped for air.
She was still panting, thirsty and struck by what had transpired, as he pulled his hand from underneath her skirt and used a perfect wandless Scouring Charm to clean himself off. He cleared his throat quietly and noted in a huff,
"I said no nonsense today, Bella."
"I'm so sorry, My Lord," Bellatrix mumbled, feeling a bit numb now. She finally raised her eyes to him, and he gave her a long, hard stare. He finally told her,
"All of those notes of Occlumency come from experience, so read them well. I want you to have at least three questions for me on Tuesday when you come to duel with me, and I expect that your Rebounding skills in practise will reflect the depth of your theoretical study. I require, Bellatrix, that your Dark Arts studies be rigorous and thorough, because I know you are capable of being a terrifyingly effective soldier. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, My Lord. Of course." Bellatrix bowed her head, and she kept it low as she pulled her thumb over the leather spine of the notebook he'd given her. Suddenly she felt his forefinger pulling up her chin to look at him, and when she met his eyes, he had a stern expression upon his features.
"I had wondered," he said quietly, "what it might be like to induce pleasure without taking it. An experiment, you understand."
Bellatrix blinked and nodded. An experiment. Of course. Bringing her to a climax whilst refusing to let her touch him had just been research to sate his inquisitive nature. She swallowed hard and asked,
"Will there be anything else today, My Lord?"
"No." He bent just a little, pressed his lips to her forehead, and murmured against her skin, "You may go."
Bellatrix carefully tucked his little leather notebook into her wide belt and pulled her rain cloak off of the back of the chair where she'd been sitting. She flung it around her shoulders and did up the silver clasp, flashing Lord Voldemort a tiny smile. She pulled her still-damp curls over one shoulder and sighed,
"Perhaps the rain has stopped by now."
"It hasn't," he told her. She curled up half her mouth and pulled up the draping hood of her rain cloak, covering her wild mane of black hair. She nodded and pulled her cloak more tightly shut to ensure his notebook would stay dry.
"Thank you, Master," she said, rather meaningfully, and he seemed to perceive the weight in what she said. She was thanking him for the instruction, for the handwritten teachings, for the duel to come, for the physical acts that had passed between them. He just nodded, then dragged his finger along the edge of the table like he'd done before. Bellatrix turned and left without another word, walking through the corridor of Malfoy Manor with quite a bounce in her step and not caring one bit when she emerged out the front door into a complete and utter maelstrom.
Author's Note: Oh, this is just too much fun. Please do review. Thanks!