"Accio Burn Salve."

Bellatrix stared at Voldemort as he held out his hand. He sighed and gazed back, his arm extended, and a moment later, a small tin came whizzing into the bedroom. Voldemort caught the tin deftly and smirked, tossing it up and catching it.

"You really did get sunburned," he said quietly. Bellatrix smiled meekly, knowing he was still tipsy, and she told him,

"You stood up for me against Aster."

"Aster Malfoy is, as you told her yourself, a nasty whore." Voldemort unscrewed the lid of the tin and instructed Bellatrix, "Come here."

She was already standing close, but she moved closer as she shivered a little. He made her tremble from the inside out, she thought. Voldemort daubed two fingers into the creamy Burn Salve and touched them to Bellatrix's collarbone.

"You're burnt here," he murmured. She stared at him, but his eyes were trained on her skin. He pressed his fingers in smooth sweeps around her decolletage, and it was so erotic Bellatrix lost her breath for a moment. Voldemort dabbed his fingers into the salve again and then brushed them over Bellatrix's cheekbones, nose, and forehead. The salve soaked into her skin, and she could feel the burns subsiding. Voldemort spent another five minutes rubbing Burn Salve all over Bellatrix's arms, shoulders, the back of her neck, and once more on her face and chest. She began to lose herself to the massaging he was doing, to the way he was rubbing at her, and she finally shut her eyes and whispered,

"Master, I want you so badly."

"Do you?"

She opened her eyes to see that his jaw had stiffened, and he screwed shut the lid of the tin in his hands, setting it down on the rickety little table beside the bed. He pushed at Bellatrix's shoulders until she turned around to face away from him, and his fingers started unbuttoning her dress. She let out a quavering breath as he pushed the dress off the front of her shoulders. Then he bent down and whispered into her ear,

"Your burns have faded."

"Thank you." Bellatrix turned her face, and he kissed her gently on the lips. He turned her back around as she slithered out of her cream-coloured lace dress. She asked him softly, "Shall I take off the rest?"

"Yes."

Bellatrix slowly stripped off her bra and knickers, peeling and unhooking until all her garments were on the ground and she'd stepped out of her shoes. Voldemort was still in his flowing robes, and Bellatrix felt the urge to ask him to get naked, too.

"I'm a little drunk," he told her, surveying her nude form. "I've had a lot of firewhisky."

"I don't mind," Bellatrix said. She reached up and unlatched the hooks on the front of Voldemort's emerald robes. He stood tall and licked his lips as she pushed the outer robe off. Her nipples puckered as she began to feel herself come alive undressing him. She wanted this wizard, more sincerely than she'd ever wanted anyone in her life.

"Master," she purred, and she moved on to the buttons going down his front. A few moments later, he'd shoved off his tunic and had unfastened his own trousers. He slid his dragonhide boots off and kicked off his socks, and Bellatrix just stared. His cock was at attention, obviously excited by what they were going to do.

"On the bed," he said gruffly, and Bellatrix obeyed. She would always obey him. She would always do exactly what he demanded of her. She scrambled up onto the bed and instinctively went to all fours. Voldemort grunted and whispered, "Pretty little thing."

He reached to pet at her back, and Bellatrix shuddered. She felt his fingertips dusting from her shoulder blades down to the small of her back, and then he began to caress her backside. Bellatrix let her eyelids flutter shut, and she murmured,

"I like your touch on me."

"Good. I like to touch you," Voldemort said. "Nongravidare Maxima." His contraceptive spell washed over Bellatrix, and she shut her eyes in relief. His fingers moved again, pushing toward her womanhood, and he felt her wetness there. He huffed a breath and confirmed, "You want it this time. Badly."

"Yes, I do," Bellatrix said. He followed her onto the bed then, and she felt the lumpy mattress shifting as he arranged himself. Then she felt the tip of his cock at her entrance, and his hands tightened on her hips. He pushed in in one fluid sweep, and Bellatrix gasped. She arched her back and threw her head back. Voldemort, sheathed inside of her, reached for her hair and began pulling out pins. She heard them plink, plink, plink on the table beside the bed, and then his hands worked to unlace her braids. He dragged his fingers through her thick, curly hair and muttered,

"That's better."

He began to thrust at last, after Bellatrix had spent a long moment with him at rest within her. It felt so good, she thought, to have him moving in and out, in and out, in and out. Every time he thrust in, he buried himself to the hilt, and every time he pulled back, he nearly left her. Filled, stuffed, and then emptied, Bellatrix whined. She began to feel a heat coiling in her lower abdomen, a tense sense of pleasure. Thrusting, pushing, pulling, squeezing. It felt so damned good, and Bellatrix cinched her fingers on the sheets. She adjusted her knees, tipping her hips up and back toward Voldemort with a desperate sense of want.

"Merlin's beard; I can't last with you," Voldemort complained, and Bellatrix wondered what the problem was. He began to speed up his pistoning until he was absolutely pounding into Bellatrix. She collapsed suddenly, falling from all fours down onto her elbows. She pushed her hips more tightly back against him, and he started to grind in just the right way. His vicious thrusting was now so vigorous that Bellatrix could hardly breathe. She let out a continuous moan and reached to hold the iron frame of the bed. Her body rocked back and forth as he pushed into her and pulled out again, so deeply, so quickly, so intensely. Finally Bellatrix felt herself pass the point of no return, a familiar sensation from touching herself. She knew her orgasm was steaming toward her like a freight train, but she still cried out when it hit her. As she contracted around Voldemort's cock, her ears rang and she saw spots behind her eyes. She puffed for air and whispered against the mattress,

"My Lord, My Lord, My Lord…"

"Agh. Bellatrix." Voldemort's fingers sank deeply into her buttocks, and he jerked wildly against her. His hips were moving less steadily now, less rhythmically. He just banged onto her about ten times, his hips slapping her backside as he mumbled a few choice swear words. Finally his hips stilled, and she heard him scoff loudly behind her. He bent down and pushed her hair aside, kissing the back of her neck as she felt his cock twitching and jolting inside of her. He throbbed within her for a long while, until she could feel him starting to soften. Both of them just breathed, long and shaking gasps coming from the both of them.

At last, Voldemort pulled out of Bellatrix and heaved a very deep sigh. He flopped onto his back, and his shining chest heaved. He cast a forearm over his eyes and murmured,

"You're delicious."

Bellatrix laughed a little and rotated toward him. She dragged her fingers over his chest, around the sparse greying hair and the skin slick with sweat. She kissed him there, and she watched his eyes shut.

"Bellatrix," he said quietly, "Stay the night. And tomorrow we'll go hunt some Muggles."

Bellatrix grinned. She kissed his skin again and said, "We'll need dinner before falling asleep."

"I could sleep for ten hours after… that." Voldemort japed, his lips curling up. Bellatrix hummed onto his skin and whispered,

"I'll go cook us something."

"Do you know how?" Voldemort's eyes opened, and one brow cocked up. Bellatrix gulped. She didn't know how to cook. Not really. He laughed, and she knew he'd been in her mind. She scowled and scolded him,

"You told me you were going to teach me Occlumency, Master."

"So I did."

She pushed herself up to sit, and he stroked at her arm with his knuckles. He met her eyes and suggested,

"A little practise at dinner, then?"

"You don't want my cooking, I take it," Bellatrix fretted. Voldemort smirked and said,

"I'll cook."

They finally pulled themselves out of bed, and Voldemort tossed Bellatrix a long tunic from his wardrobe. She pulled on her knickers and yanked his tunic over her head, marveling at wearing his clothes. She touched at herself, feeling his fabric against her skin, and her stomach fluttered with a strange sensation. She cared for him beyond anything a servant did for a master, she thought. She adored him as a man, as the wizard he was, beyond her servile role.

Fifteen minutes later, Voldemort had cooked up pork chops with apples and onions, along with roasted potatoes. He placed Bellatrix's plate before her at the table, and she said softly,

"You're so good at everything."

"Pah. Cooking is a skill I acquired out of sheer necessity. Having absolutely no money means one has to get what food one can and cook it."

"Soon enough, you'll have loads of money," Bellatrix predicted. She picked up her fork. "Rickard Avery has loads of money; couldn't you ask him for some?"

"I don't want a loan. I want donations to my cause," Voldemort said a bit sharply. "I'll be patient and wait until my old lackies feel inclined to give me significant sums of money."

"Right," Bellatrix nodded. She cut into her pork and took a bite, savouring it. She hadn't eaten much at the party; she'd had a few Lavender Slip-Ups, but she had only eaten a few macarons and a bite of cheese. She hadn't realised how hungry she was until now. As she ate potato and pork, she thought back to Voldemort rubbing Burn Salve on her, of him undoing her braids. She thought of him holding her hand in front of Titus Malfoy.

"Bellatrix."

She looked up, and his eyes had softened considerably from before. He gulped and reached for his glass of water, and he told her,

"I meant what I suggested. Before the party."

She blinked. He'd suggested that she be his girlfriend… or something like that. He'd suggested that they be together, publicly and privately. And now he'd asked her to stay the night and promised that they'd go hunting Muggles in the morning. Bellatrix realised she wanted nothing more in all the world than to be with him, and she nodded frantically.

"Yes, please, My Lord."

"Good. Then that's settled." He plopped a bite of pork chop into his mouth and chewed, looking down. After a few more minutes, both of them had mostly finished with their food, and he muttered, "Occlumency is simply the art of blocking out a Legilimens. I'm sure you know that much. The important act is emptying the mind of emotion. If a Legilimens latches onto an emotion, they can see clearly into all of your memories and thoughts. What you want is for a Legilimens to encounter blankness. Later, we'll work on replacing memories with forgeries to trick a skilled Legilimens. But, for now, I want you to shut your eyes and imagine the most empty place in the Universe."

Bellatrix obediently set down her knife and fork and shut her eyes. The Universe, he'd said. She imagined being on the surface of the Moon, devoid of air and facing away from the Earth. The heavens, filled with stars and galaxies, was cast before her eyes, but there was no sound at all. No wind. No water. It was blank and empty here.

"What are you imagining?" she heard Voldemort murmur, and she threw up an eyebrow, her eyes still shut.

"Can't you see, Master?"

"No."

She opened her eyes and smiled a little. "The Moon," she said. "The empty, lifeless, quiet Moon."

He nodded. "That was well done. I tried to see into your mind and found a velvet black curtain covering what I wanted to pluck out. Try it again."

Bellatrix blinked a few times and stared right at him, imagining the quiet, empty lunarscape. A shooting star whizzed by overhead, but there was still no howl of wind, no rush of water. It was desolate, and she was lost in her solitude.

Voldemort smirked and nodded. "That's very well done. You're making it very difficult for me to see anything. I'm a bit surprised you're able to achieve that at your first go. You really are a bright and skilled witch."

She grinned at his compliment, for she adored hearing praise from him. She said eagerly,

"Let's try again."

"You'll get tired, and I do not wish for you to fail," Voldemort said. "We'll try again tomorrow, after we've hunted down some Muggles."

"I'm looking forward to that, Master," Bellatrix said, "attacking some Muggles with you."

He let out a shaking sigh, picking up his water and sipping before he said quite seriously. "Perfect."

Author's Note: Aren't these two just perfect for each other? Next up, some Muggle attacks! And Voldemort meeting with his old 'friends' at Cygnus' house! Woo hoo! Thank you so much for reading; please do review.