"Bellatrix, you haven't touched your eggs. Are you feeling off this morning?"
Bellatrix raised her eyes from her breakfast plate to her mother. She smiled just a little and shrugged.
"They're operating on a patient today at St Mungo's. I'll have to help. It's just anticipation, I suppose."
"Oh, an operation. How terrible. What's wrong with her?" asked Narcissa.
"Her heart has been gravely affected by the effects of a Beautification Potion gone horribly wrong," Bellatrix said, poking her fork at an egg and breaking the yolk. "The Healers have to go in and clear out the heart and then close her back up, and -"
"Ugh. I'm going to be sick," mumbled Narcissa. Bellatrix laughed.
"You asked."
Ding-dong.
Bellatrix sprang to her feet, her cutlery clattering down onto the table. She looked about at her surprised family, and she said quickly,
"I'll go get it."
"Let the House-Elf get it, Bella," said Narcissa softly. Bellatrix frowned. Druella dabbed her napkin to her lips and demanded,
"Who would come to our house this early?"
Suddenly the House-Elf came tottering into the dining room and bowed so low she nearly toppled over. "Madam Druella. Master Cygnus. May I present Tom Riddle?"
"It is Lord Voldemort, isn't it?" Bellatrix said breathlessly. The figure of Voldemort appeared in the open doorway of the dining room.
"So it is," he said. Cygnus and Druella gasped, rising to their feet. Bellatrix grinned at him. He eyed Andromeda for a brief moment, and when he cleared his throat, Bellatrix knew he'd gotten what he'd come for - Ted Tonks' address. Voldemort held out a little wrapped gift to Cygnus Black and said,
"I have many things to do today, Cygnus. Druella. But I wanted to come by and wish you a happy twenty-fifth wedding anniversary."
"My goodness! You remembered!" Druella seemed amazed as Cygnus accepted the gift. He unwrapped it, and inside there was a cube of glass. Bellatrix marveled as her father turned the glass cube around and revealed a moving portrait of him and Druella etched inside. Bellatrix wondered how Voldemort had gotten the portrait of Cygnus and Druella; had he kept one from school all those years earlier? Voldemort suddenly looked at Bellatrix and smirked.
"I kept a lot of things I thought might come in handy later. Your parents made quite the couple as Hogwarts students. I thought I'd protect the photograph by encasing it in glass."
"My goodness," Druella said again, and this time she was swiping tears from her eyes. Andromeda looked very unimpressed as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest, but Narcissa took the cube from her father and gazed with wonder at the photograph inside.
"Well, thank you very kindly, Tom. Erm… Lord… erm…" Cygnus' face went red as he stumbled all over his words.
"My Lord," Bellatrix gently corrected her father. Andromeda looked scandalised, and Narcissa looked amazed as she clutched the glass cube. Druella said primly,
"Thank you for the gift… My Lord."
"You're very welcome," Voldemort said, bowing his head. "A very fine day to all of you. Bellatrix, do be well at St Mungo's. I appreciate the care you gave me there."
"It was nothing at all, My Lord," Bellatrix breathed. Voldemort turned to go then, the House-Elf showing him out. The Black family sat back at the dining table, except for Bellatrix, who said tightly,
"Off to the hospital with me, then."
"But you didn't eat breakfast," Narcissa warned. Bellatrix shrugged.
"I'll eat a good lunch. See you all."
She stalked quickly out of the dining room and Disapparated from the corridor, coming to outside the department store in which she would find St. Mungo's.
"Have you got your gloves and mask?" Healer Comstock turned to Bellatrix. "Oh, good."
Bellatrix had a woven cotton mask on, enchanted to keep herself and the patient safe from anything in her breath. She also had on gloves of the thinnest Dragon-Hide, designed to protect against infection for both Mediwitch and patient.
"Go on and sedate her," said Healer Comstock. Bellatrix nodded and picked up a dose of Draught of Living Death. She thought back to sixth-year Potions, when she'd been the only student to successfully brew the incredibly difficult product. Hers had been so good that it had come here to St Mungo's for use. Was this bottle the one she'd brewed a few years earlier, Bellatrix wondered? She smirked a bit and pulled out the dropper.
"Right, Mrs. Billings," she said. "One drop under the tongue."
Soon enough, Mrs Billings was in a state of suspended animation, completely gone to the world. She lay in silent stillness, and Healer Comstock said,
"Right. Here we are. Ready for incision?"
"Ready," said Healer Young, the other surgeon on the case. "Mediwitch, be prepared to Siphon the blood."
"Yes, sir," Bellatrix said.
Before she knew what was happening, Bellatrix was Siphoning and Scouring blood from the open-chested Mrs Billings, who was lying on her back with her heart exposed. Bellatrix should have been disgusted, she thought, by the sight of the witch's chest cracked open. But instead she just watched in wonder as Mrs Billings' heart operation was carried out. She helped the Healers Scour the entire body as she was stitched back up, and then she was ordered by Healer Comstock to sit with Mrs Billings through her suspended animation as she healed up from surgery.
Bellatrix did not speak with Mrs Billings the way she'd talked to Tom Riddle. Instead she just monitored the witch's intravenous fluid drip and sat with a magazine, Witch Weekly. She read about Orsino and the Bears and the concert they'd sold out. She read about what new lipstick shades were in vogue for the coming autumn. She read a story, meant to tug at the heartstrings, about a female Squib who had married an Auror and had difficulty living without magic in the wizarding world. Bellatrix curled up her lip at that story and tossed the magazine down in disgust.
"Bellatrix?"
She whirled around and stood from her chair. Jessamyn, another Mediwitch, gave her a winning grin and said,
"I can go ahead and take over for you now," Jessamyn said. "You can head home."
"Oh. Thanks, Jessamyn. She's still sleeping and will be for three more days. No need to do much of anything with her."
"How did the surgery go?" Jessamyn asked. Bellatrix shrugged.
"You know. It was a heart surgery. It went as well as things go when your chest is cracked open."
"Right." Jessamyn curled up half her mouth. "Bye, then."
"Goodbye." Bellatrix stood and made her way off the ward. She went back down into the lobby of the hospital, but she didn't go home. Instead she Disapparated straight to 21 Bassett Gardens, Isleworth. She came to outside of Mr Riddle's home, and she tugged at her dark Mediwitch skirts and smoothed her apron as she approached the simple house. She pulled down the protective wards and stalked up through the front garden, which she now noticed was tangled and unkempt. He couldn't be bothered with this Muggle house, Bellatrix knew. He was going to have something far better. This was very temporary.
She knocked firmly on the door of the house, and just a moment later, the door opened. Voldemort stood before Bellatrix in a white linen shirt that was open at the chest, tucked into a pair of tight-fitting trousers designed to go under a robe. Bellatrix's eyes widened. He was so incredibly handsome like this, in a state of relative undress. She gulped and whispered,
"Hello, Master."
"13 Milburn Road, Ashington."
He said the address in a tight clip, and Bellatrix felt her eyes go wider than ever. She parted her lips and asked,
"Ashington?"
"In Northumberland," Voldemort specified. "13 Milburn Road. Ashington."
Bellatrix squared her jaw and nodded firmly. "I'll kill him at midnight. By tomorrow morning, he'll be gone."
"Bella," Voldemort said softly, and he reached for her jaw. "It's only a few minutes past seven. You've got hours before you need to go to Ashington."
"So I have," Bellatrix murmured. She shut her eyes against the feel of his palm on her cheek, rough and warm. She huffed a breath as Voldemort said slickly,
"Come inside, Bellatrix."
"Master." She opened her eyes then and followed him into the house. He shut the door behind her and glanced over his shoulder to the stairs. He licked his lips and said quietly,
"You've vowed to serve me. You want me to be your master."
"Yes," she whispered, and he slid his fingers through hers and pulled her towards the stairs a little.
"Come with me," he commanded, and Bellatrix grinned broadly.
"Yes."
His bedroom was tiny; the bed and wardrobe filled up nearly all the space inside. He had a homespun quilt on his iron bed, and the wardrobe was of banged-up wood. Bellatrix watched his face flush deep red, and she couldn't help wondering if that was from embarrassment or something else.
"I am not embarrassed," Voldemort said tightly. "Someday I'll have something very grand, and I'll plunder you there."
Bellatrix's face went hot at that. She gulped and watched as Voldemort stripped off his white linen shirt. Beneath, he was lean and taut, but he had scars running all over his chest and arms. One particularly nasty gash on his abdomen looked almost like he'd been stabbed through with a sword.
"And?" Voldemort said sharply. He narrowed his eyes. Bellatrix nibbled her bottom lip and then said quietly,
"So handsome."
"Liar," Voldemort snapped, but Bellatrix shook her head and whispered,
"Handsome to me. I've thought so ever since you were in a coma in St Mungo's."
He smirked. "Were you sitting there, watching me sleep, daydreaming about me, Miss Black?"
"Maybe I was," she teased, and he scoffed.
"Take off your clothes," he ordered her. Bellatrix gulped. Was she ready to lose her virginity? Did it matter? He was her master. She was his servant. Did it matter anymore what she wanted? Or were his wishes the only ones that counted? She knew the answer.
She reached around her back and untied the bow of her apron strings. She pulled the Mediwitch apron off the front of her and folded it slowly, setting it down on the lower corner of the bed. Then she put her hands to the neckline of her woolen dress and began to unbutton, her fingers trembling terribly. Voldemort dragged his fingers over the placket of his trousers as he watched her undress, and his throat visibly bobbed. He deepened the strokes of his fingers when Bellatrix peeled off her woolen dress, and then she stood before him in a cotton bra and knickers.
"All of it off," he murmured, and she nodded. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, dragging it off her shoulders. She should be humiliated, she thought, to let him see her small, round breasts. She couldn't find it in herself to be ashamed; she just wanted him.
"Knickers off." He sounded breathless now, and Bellatrix slid her knickers down over her hips and slithered out of them. She stepped out of the knickers and pushed down her wool socks, kicking off her flat shoes. Then she was completely naked, and Voldemort whispered,
"Lie on the bed."
"Yes, Master." Bellatrix followed his orders and climbed up onto the bed. She tingled from head to toe with anticipation, and then she heard him say,
"Take your hair down."
"Oh." Bellatrix pulled at her matron's cap and tugged at the pins keeping her hair in a tight bun. She shook her curls out, and Voldemort let out a little noise of obvious want. Now she watched as he unbuttoned his trousers and dragged them down over his own hips and legs. He rid himself of his own underwear and stalked towards the bed. Bellatrix marveled then, because he'd revealed his cock to her, and she was in awe.
It was long and thick and throbbing, with a purplish head that glistened. Bellatrix reached out as Voldemort climbed onto the bed, and she whispered,
"Can I touch it?"
"Touch it," he ordered her. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and chomped her lip. Velvet on stone. He was like velvet on stone. "Keep touching me."
She stroked at him; she knew what to do with this. She'd touched Titus Malfoy's cock through his trousers and knew that wizards liked attention at the tip. She dragged her thumb over the slit in his tip, and he hissed as he knelt beside her.
"Contraception?" he clipped, raising his eyebrows. Bellatrix puffed out a breath and reached for her wand. She aimed it at her lower abdomen and incanted,
"Nongravidare Maxima."
"You don't want this," Voldemort noted, and Bellatrix stared at him. She shook her head helplessly and said,
"I want you."
"But you don't want this," Voldemort insisted. Bellatrix felt very self-conscious, all of a sudden, being naked before him and having him question her interest. She threw her hands up and whispered,
"It just feels like going from kissing straight into this is… erm…"
"You're right, of course. There are other things which may come first," Voldemort told her. "I am a patient man."
"But you must have what you want," Bellatrix pleaded. "You are my master, and I must -"
"I will never coerce you," Voldemort insisted. He brushed his fingers over Bellatrix's breast, over her soft nipple, and he muttered, "You're going to kill Ted Tonks tonight for me. I got excited. Besides… you in that Mediwitch ensemble…"
She laughed a little then, and he reached up to hold her face. He leaned forward and kissed her softly, murmuring against her lips,
"Let's just kiss with no clothes."
"Is that… a thing?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort replied,
"It's a thing if I say it's a thing. I want to kiss you with no clothes. Now, Bellatrix… at least kiss me."
"Oh, yes, Master."
They began to tangle up like vines after a long while of kissing. Their tongues twined in his mouth, then in hers. He nibbled at her lip and suckled on her tongue. His hands caressed her breasts and ran up and down her ribcage. Bellatrix seethed through her nose and began to feel the aching throb of desire between her legs. She finally tossed one leg over Voldemort's and reached for his cock.
"Hmm-mm." He shook his head. "You don't want it."
"I do, I think." Bellatrix aimed his tip at her entrance, only then realising she was sodden and swollen with anticipation. She felt him stretch her as he pushed in, felt a little rip and then the sensation of being incredibly full. She gasped onto Voldemort's mouth, and he wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her close as he rocked his hips. It hurt; it hurt badly enough that Bellatrix whimpered. But soon enough, the pain faded into a distant, growing pleasure. Bellatrix ground her hips against Voldemort's and kissed him hard, and then he pulled back and said onto her mouth,
"Beautiful, vicious, obedient creature that you are. Do you know how highly I think of you?"
"Master." Bellatrix arched her back, pressing her breasts against him, and she snared her fingers in his thinning hair. He took her curls in a fist and pulled, and she gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain. He pulled again and her eyes fluttered shut. She moaned softly, his hips still pistoning against hers. He kept pushing and pushing until Bellatrix felt a growing glow emanating from her core. She felt everything going tight, felt everything going warm, and she whispered,
"I'm going to come."
"Do it," he hissed. "Show me that you enjoy me."
"Master." She was desperate now; he was thrusting against her at precisely the right angle and his cock was filling her over and over again. He was deep inside of her now, and they rolled until he was on his back and Bellatrix was atop him. She instinctively cycled her hips and felt her clit rubbing against him. She tossed her curls over one shoulder, and he groaned loudly.
"Ungh…" his eyes squeezed shut, and suddenly Bellatrix felt him twitching inside of her. There was wet heat leaking out of her then, as his fists balled and his cheeks went scarlet. She realised he'd come, and the thought of that pitched her over her own edge. She bounced on him a few times and then rolled her hips onto his softening cock, and that was enough. She felt her walls contract, felt her body tense up around him, and she couldn't see or hear for a long moment.
"Bella," she perceived him muttering eventually. She felt herself being pulled down, felt him draw her up against his body as fluids leaked between her legs.
"You'll kill him in your Mediwitch uniform, because I want to imagine you doing that," Voldemort hummed. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Beautiful, vicious, obedient creature that you are."
"Shall I dress and get ready to go?" Bellatrix asked, but Voldemort sighed.
"You've plenty of time. Just lie here for a while. Hmm?"
Bellatrix almost fell asleep there, curled up against her master. He did fall asleep, his breath coming deep and heavy as he slumbered. She glanced at the clock when it was half past eleven, and she rose and slowly put her clothes back on. She was tying up her apron when she heard a voice from the bed.
"Leave your curls down."
"Yes, Master," Bellatrix said into the dark bedroom. Voldemort pushed himself up onto one elbow and stared at her through the moonlight.
"Do me proud."
"I'll do my very best, Master," Bellatrix promised. "I'll kill him and Vanish the body. It'll be a grand disappearance."
"I think very highly of you." He'd said that earlier, but hearing it again meant everything to Bellatrix. She smiled a little at him and whispered,
"When will I see you again?"
"Come here tomorrow after work," Voldemort said. "No. Wait. Go home and see Andromeda's reaction first. Then come here. We'll talk about it over a late dinner."
"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix grinned broadly. She reached for her wand and tucked her matron's cap into the pocket of her apron.
"Goodbye, Bella," Voldemort purred.
"Goodbye, Master," Bellatrix whispered, taking a step toward the wardrobe. There was barely enough room in here to Disapparate, but she managed, and when she opened her eyes, it was pouring down rain in the village of Ashington.
Author's Note: I hope that you are all holding up okay during this time of great uncertainty. I'm safe at home; I hope you all are, too. Be well, lovelies! If you get a moment to leave a review, please do. Thanks so much for reading.