Bella was sitting in her room, staring vacantly ahead, as though in a dream. She was messing with Draco's head in the same way she had with other witches and wizards who had offended the Dark Lord over the years, and she loathed herself for it.

Her conversation with the Dark Lord seemed far away. She'd steeled herself for her impossible task. That was how she'd managed to torture Draco, but not the loathing was starting.

After all, where would she be without her sister, Narcissa's love? Cissy would hardly take kindly to her son's torture by her own sister. And eventually she would realise something was up…

Was one night with the Dark Lord really worth the self destruction of the Black family? She'd done many evil things in her life… and gladly… but this was something she could not do.

She leant back on the bed with a sigh. If she failed, the Dark Lord would punish her, but could she really put herself above her only nephew?

"You will Bella," hissed the Dark Lord.

"I…I can't do it, my Lord," she whispered into the skull necklace.

His laugh was cold, high, mocking. "Bellatrix Lestrange… having qualms about meting out torture and pain? I'm ashamed of you. And you call yourself my most faithful servant?"

"I am, my Lord, but torturing my own nephew, my own sister's lifeblood? That's heartless!"

Again the mocking laughter. "You are heartless, Bella. Or have you forgotten the hundreds you've driven mad and killed at my orders?"

Bella hung her head. "I have not my Lord, but Draco…"

"Failed," hissed the Dark Lord, "and you know how I like to reward failure. I want to see him broken and I want you to be the one who carries out the deed."

"No."

"No," roared the Dark Lord's voice from within the skull necklace. "Do you too wish to be punished? I could persuade Severus Snape perhaps, he's hated you for years. He knows some interesting little spells, Bella."

Bellatrix felt the wet tears slide down her cheeks. She had no choice. "I will punish Draco and obey, my Lord."

"Good," said the Dark Lord coldly. "If you fail me again… remember the price, it will be harsh, have no doubt of that." The blue stones of her necklace faded as the Dark Lord left her alone to face the night.

She sobbed, rocking back and forth against the pillow. This test of loyalty would destroy something in her, she realised, it would destroy the last remnants of her sanity. And what would she get in return, she thought bitterly. A night in her master's bed. Would it be worth it in the end? She doubted it.

Draco didn't sleep. His thoughts were black. His Aunt had looked at him in such a predatory way. He knew there could be only one reason for such a shocking change in attitude towards him. The Dark Lord, He Who Must Not Be Named, was displeased with the Malfoy's. He had known that for ages. It was why constantly put to the test by the other Death Eater's. The Dark Lord must have commanded his Aunt to punish him and everyone knew that his Aunt followed the Dark Lord's orders with a fanatical glee.

What could he do to save himself? To pass the test he couldn't rely on others to help him; no, he couldn't risk it. No doubt his deliverers would be punished too. He needed to pass this one himself, with no help from Snape or anyone else. It would all come to who was stronger, his or his aunt? And he wasn't arrogant enough to believe that he was stronger… which meant what?

He'd have to get her off her guard, off balance somehow. It was the only tactic he could think of and he was in Slytherin wasn't he? He'd have to be as sharp, as sly, as quick, as slippery as a snake. What was he good at? Potions but that wouldn't help, charms; well he could manage them, but he wasn't adept. Defensive spells he'd passed, but that wasn't enough.

What would Bella's next move be? He was thinking torture again. Of course, he could try using the Unforgiveable Curses back at her, but he didn't think he had the hate for an effective Crucatius Curse and she'd break through the Imperius in a second. Her will power was finely honed after years of dealing with both Azkaban and the Dark Lord himself.

Draco found himself thinking of Pansy Parkinson, her head in his lap on the Hogwarts Express as he stroked her hair. It hadn't even been that they'd liked each other all that much; they'd liked the attention, feeling like adults, feeling like they something else everyone else didn't. He'd hoped she'd curb his loneliness, the bitter ache of knowing none could possibly understand his task. She hadn't. Sex with her had been awkward, even clumsy. But he, Draco Malfoy, had been good at it. He was no longer a fumbling, inexperienced teen and sex was something he was good at.

Oh, this was insane. Surely this wasn't the answer! But would it, no could it work? His father had often spoken of Bella's insurmountable lust- it was almost as legendary as her love of torture. But could he make her weak with real love? Could he bear to see his own Aunt killed by the Dark Lord for failure; for that would be the price- him or her. And could he bear to prostitute himself for his own Aunt's benefit just to survive? Could he live with himself down the long years knowing what he would have done?

But on the other hand, he valued living and he was young yet, too young to die at the very least. Now he found himself thinking of Harry Potter, the hatred he had originally felt for him fading into a bruising, tired contempt, as the school years dragged on. He was so full of ridiculous ideals, of grand ideas of courage and sacrifice. He, Draco, was no Harry Potter, no Chosen One; he was a Malfoy and he would do anything to survive.

Asleep and content at last, his mouth was set in a grim smile all that night.

The next time both of his parents were out of the house, Draco kept to his room; for his plan to succeed he needed a bed. He could hear the Death Eater's laughing upstairs; no doubt they all knew (or thought they knew) about his punishment, about the form it was taking.

Five minutes later when Bella entered the room, wand out, he was prepared. Before she could open her mouth to taunt him, he pointed his wand at her, using a spell that Potter had been obsessed with. But just because it was simple, didn't mean it wasn't effective.

"Expelliarmus," he shouted as Bella's brown eyes widened in shock.