"Oh, Master, this room is beautiful!" exclaimed Bellatrix. She walked into the bright, sunny white bedroom with its wispy white curtains around its spindly four-poster bed. The mahogany wardrobe against the wall matched the trunk at the foot of the bed, as well as the writing-desk and chair against the other wall. There was a full-length mirror and a mahogany dresser, as well. On the bed was a lovely handcrafted quilt in red, blue, green, yellow, and purple against a white background. The room felt… happy. Bellatrix grinned at Voldemort, who sneered and pulled a face.

"This room is ridiculous," he scoffed. "You can certainly have it, with no complaint from me. I wouldn't touch it with a pole, thank you."

Bellatrix giggled madly and set her suitcase down. She turned toward him and asked,

"Well, is there another room up here more to your liking, My Lord? It looked like there were four bedrooms in total on this floor."

"I saw one in white and black; it seemed far more suited to me," Voldemort declared, and he went marching out of Bellatrix's room with its rainbow-coloured quilt. Bellatrix hesitated and then followed him, and she walked behind him down the upstairs corridor until they reached another room, this one on the right side of the house, away from the afternoon sun. Voldemort swept into the room and immediately rendered his verdict.

"Ah," he said. "Yes. Much better."

Bellatrix looked around and smiled a bit to herself. Yes, she thought. This room was perfect for him. Its far wall had been painted inky black, and the other three walls were white. The furniture was all slick, black ebony. The wide bed had sturdy square posts and a crushed velvet black blanket. The curtains on the windows were translucent black with ghostly white linings. The other pieces of furniture were stout and manly. This, Bellatrix thought, must have been the room that had belonged to the Malfoy men who had come here before. Now it was Lord Voldemort's.

"Perfect," Bellatrix purred from where she stood. Voldemort turned round to look at her, flicking his eyes up and down her form. He looked hungry all of a sudden, and Bellatrix prickled with excitement. Did he want her? Her nipples peaked inside her bra. She flushed wet between her legs. She wanted him; did he want her? She let her lips part a little, and she felt a word wash over her like a wave.

Craving.

"Master," she said softly, and in response, he walked up to her and swept her into his arms. He threaded his right arm behind her back, yanking her closer, and his left arm pulled her near between her shoulder blades. She tipped her head up and pushed herself up onto her toes, and he bent down, his mouth meeting hers. He kissed her fervently, his teeth clacking against hers in his eagerness. He groaned a little against her, and suddenly Bellatrix realised that yes, he wanted her. She gasped and let his tongue into her mouth, let him graze it over the roof of her mouth and along her lips, and she moaned like a whore. Her hands searched his back as she pressed herself against him, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than for both of them to be naked.

Then she remembered a rather horrifying fact - she was still bleeding.

She'd been on the second day of her cycle when she'd attended Rodolphus' party, when she'd taken him in her mouth and spent the night in his bed. She'd gone to the Midlands for her attack on Weobley the next day and had been captured. Luckily, she'd had an effective Absorbency Charm in place throughout her kidnapping by the Ministry. But it was the next day now, the fourth day of her bleeding, and she would still be a disaster if he tried to have sex with her. Of course, it was possible, she tried to tell herself desperately as her head spun with desire. She was throbbing between her legs for need of him. She growled into his kiss with absolute frustration, and suddenly he pulled away and mumbled,

"You're not going anywhere, Bellatrix; there's all the time in the world for sex."

Her cheeks went hot as she realised he'd been inside of her mind. But she blinked up at him and whispered,

"I'm so sorry. I can take you in my mouth again; you seemed to enjoy it, Master, or I can -"

"I'm going to make you come," he said very seriously, and Bellatrix's jaw dropped. How was he going to do that? He pulled her by her hand over to the black leather armchair that was in the corner of the bedroom, and he sank down into it. He encouraged Bellatrix to follow him down, and on instinct she straddled him. She wormed her way down into the chair with him, pushing her knees into the small spaces beside his thighs. She sank down as he parted his robe, and she felt the bulge of his erection against her womanhood.

She tipped her head back and gasped a little at that feel, at the way he was so hard against her. She ground down onto him and he hissed with pleasure, muttering,

"Do that again. Harder."

Bellatrix pushed her hips down on him, cycling forward, and her vision blurred at the way it rubbed her clit to do so. She did it again, and her breath hitched. She leaned forward and fell into a kiss, her tongue threading its way into Voldemort's mouth as she moaned softly. Her hands went straight to his chest and held fast there, grappling for purchase against his robes as she pumped her hips down onto him rhythmically. She began to feel a growing sense of pleasure within her core as the grinding stimulated her clit and her walls. Voldemort's hands gripped at her breasts through her shirt and then ran down her rib cage. He was so hard beneath her that she could practically feel him throbbing through her leggings and his trousers. She broke away from their kiss and threw her head back, feeling a tight coil of heat in her belly.

"Oh, Master," Bellatrix gasped, and suddenly she couldn't move anymore. Voldemort gripped her waist in his hands and encouraged her to keep grinding, and when Bellatrix moved a few more times, pressing her clit against his erection three or four more pushes, she lost herself. She collapsed forward against Voldemort's shoulder and sobbed a little into his neck as she came. She threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him there, massaging the skin under his neck with her tongue as she felt her walls clenching inside her knickers. Her ears flushed hot and rang, and her veins seared with pleasure. She couldn't speak or think for a moment, and then the high began to dissipate. Bellatrix pulled back from Voldemort's neck to see his face twisted in what looked like pain. He bucked his hips up hard and whispered desperately,

"Bella."

She knew he was finding his own satisfaction inside his trousers, which aroused her immensely to know. Her breath shook as she climbed slowly off of him and spied the dark wet spot on his black trousers where his come had leached through. She murmured softly,

"Oh, Master. Thank you."

"Bella." He looked dizzy, and his hand shook a little as he reached for his wand. He aimed it at his trousers, licked his bottom lip, and muttered a Scourgify and a Tergeo to clean himself up. He dragged his fingers through his hair and stared up at Bellatrix, and then he said rather tightly,

"Why don't you go get unpacked in your own room, hmm? We're to be here for some time."

She was being evicted from his space. Bellatrix just stared for a moment, for they had been so very intimate just seconds earlier, but she nodded quickly and whispered,

"Yes, of course, My Lord. Thank you. For the… thank you."

She turned and left his room, walking down the corridor and going back to her happy, sunny space.

Bellatrix claimed one of the upstairs bathrooms - there were three of them - as her own, and she unpacked her toiletries into it. There was a rather grand bathroom in black and white tile near the black and white bedroom, and so that one was determined to be the Dark Lord's bathroom. This bathroom was all white tile, and was much smaller, and so it would be Bellatrix's. It had a claw-foot tub with a white shower curtain, a white toilet and pedestal sink, a mirror on the wall, and a white wooden cupboard for storage. That was all.

As Bellatrix filled a shelf in the cupboard with perfume bottles and combs, she contemplated that she was, more or less, a prisoner here. The Dark Lord wouldn't let her leave even if she begged to do so. She was needed, she knew, to be near him and to belong to him. That was what the prophecies said. And now that the second prophecy was known to enemies of the Dark Lord - including Albus Dumbledore - Bellatrix was Target Number One. Eliminating her, or at the very least separating her from Voldemort, was key to vanquishing him. So she must be hidden away and kept in secret… not for her protection, but for Lord Voldemort's protection. It was a strange situation. But Bellatrix was Voldemort's most loyal servant. If she could no longer serve him in battle, then she would serve him by being his and by being here. She sighed as she cleaned her teeth and braided her hair and tied it up for the night, wondering just how long she would be required to serve her master from this place.

It was a lovely enough house. And Voldemort had said that he'd soon procure a House-Elf for them. Tonight, he'd made dinner from some canned tomatoes and a box of noodles that he'd found in the kitchen, put there by the House-Elf who had visited five months earlier. With some sugar and herbs, they'd wound up with a halfway decent pasta dish, and Bellatrix had been full by the end of it. She'd wished the Dark Lord a very good night, and they'd kissed for a long while before she'd come up to take a bath and finish unpacking her bathroom.

Now she crept back down the corridor to her bedroom and peeled back to technicolour quilt on her fluffy-looking bed. She climbed into the bed and pulled the quilt back over her, and she turned to face the window, staring at the moon over the ocean in the distance.

"Bellatrix?" came a voice from the doorway after a long while. "Are you awake?"

Bellatrix sat up immediately.

"Yes, Master."

He came walking into her room in his clothes from earlier and said,

"I've got to go back to Malfoy Manor and pack all of my clothes and things. I'll be back soon. I ought to have gone earlier, but… I don't know; I didn't want to… something compelled me to stay longer than I ought to have done."

"It won't be so very bad here, My Lord," Bellatrix promised him, staring at him through the moonlight. "I'll find things to do. I'll take up a new hobby. Something very intriguing. A new musical instrument, or painting, perhaps. Painting. I should like to learn to paint."

"Would you? I could get you paints and canvases," said Voldemort, "and spellbooks on enchanting your works. You'll have all the time in the world here for painting; I expect you could become very skilled at it."

"Well, I could certainly try." Bellatrix's eyes watered, and she blinked quickly a few times. "I could paint a portrait of you someday, Master, when I get good enough. That could be my goal - to paint you."

"Mmm-hmm." He stepped into her room, and he licked his bottom lip as he studied her. Then he looked around her room and declared, "This is a silly, stupid room, even for a young girl. When I get back from Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix, I want you waiting in my bed. Understood?"

Bellatrix's heart thudded, and she nodded quickly. "Understood, Master."

"Goodbye, then," he said. "Apparition point's outside, down by the sea. I'll be back soon." He whirled and walked quickly out of Bellatrix's bedroom, and she watched him go. She watched out the window as he stalked across the lawn and onto the rocks that led down to the sea, and then she watched him disappear into a black whirl. She hurried out of bed and quickly made up the quilt, and she rushed out of the room and down the corridor to the black and white room.

She breathed in the masculine scent that had already taken over this space - books and leather and the ocean - and she moved to the bed, knowing he preferred the right side. She pulled back the crushed velvet blanket on the left side and climbed in, and she waited for her master to come back. She waited for her master to come back to her prison, to the place where she was being hidden, to the place where they were to live together so that the prophecies could be fulfilled and he could succeed.

How very strange it all was, Bellatrix thought, lying down and staring at the ceiling, and as she waited, she drifted off to sleep.

Author's Note: I managed some quick writing time once everyone went to sleep at the lake house! Woo hoo! Not sure I'll get another chapter up until Monday, but at least I managed this one. :) Thanks so much for reading. I also just want to say a very sincere thanks for the feedback on this story. I am really so very grateful for the reviews I've received and will receive. Thank you, thank you, thank you.