(For those who asked for a longer chapter – I agree, the last was inexcusably short)

Chapter One: Stolen

He who has never experienced hurt,

cannot experience true love.

~ Tristan J. Leo

Dark onyx eyes bore into the whites of a pale blue, a face that seemed bloodless, translucent as it stared in stark horror as small lips curved into as perverse, sadistic smile. "My my my," a soft purr rippled out between a small parting of the lips, dark eyes glinting under the dim lighting. "We didn't seem to like that, did we?" The pale face turned ashen under the intense scrutiny of Bellatrix Lestrange, an alabaster white heart-shaped face framed by long coiling tendrils of dark hair. The small, slight woman leaned down, the soft end of hair brushing against the weathered skin of Garrick Ollivander, causing the old wizard to violently shiver against such a gentle touch, flinching away.

Long fingers, artists fingers, fiddled with a bent, misshapen looking wand, toying with the tip, a darkly amused smile blooming across the small woman's features. His fear was like blood to a shark, one whiff of that pungent, desperate scent and Bellatrix would catch it. Her eyed widened, lips parted, breathing escaping her from small excited gasps. The fingertip that encircled the end of her wand sang with a frenzy of shivers, the feel or rough, worn wood intensified through the titillating sensation that coursed through the raven-haired witch, the depths of her dark eyes bleeding with heat.

One pale finger ran along the length of Ollivander's worn cheek, the pulse beneath warming Bella's chilled skin, another delectable shiver raking through her small body. The finger pause at the old man's chin, hand cupping the prickled skin, harsh stubble against such soft hands. Sharp nails bit into leathered flesh, breaking skin and singing blood to the surface like a siren's call. A small hiss of pain was uttered out of Ollivander's lips, his eyes closing as if ridding the sight of Bellatrix Lestrange would rid the pain itself. The small nails left his skin, leaving crescent moon indentations, already cupping with blood, small beads of red gathering.

With mild interest, Bellatrix examined the red stains on her nails, the smear of crimson on her tips. The contrast was hypnotic, the way such pale skin could glow against the blood, the sensation of liquid warmth against such cool skin, running down like the liquid heat of a lover. Entranced by the sight, the feel, Bellatrix brought her fingers to her lips, a small pink tongue running along the smooth skin, before deeply sucking the blood, eyes fixed on the old man who gazed up at her with such a look of utter revulsion, yet even he could not look away.

For a moment, two eyes locked; pale blue upon onyx black bore into each other with heated looks, of pleasure and of pain. Finally, Bellatrix removed her fingers from her mouth, glistening against the dim eerie lighting, a small girlish giggle escaping her lips. "Did you like that?" she whispered in a breathy voice, eyes glazed over, and small frame swaying to a tune only she could hear. Blinking, Bella smiled, one finger stroking the length of her wand. "It is only the…"

"Bella!" a voice rang out, filling the stillness of the Malfoy Manor, carrying towards the dungeons where the eldest Black sister was. The door opened and light flooded into the room, its sudden harshness causing Bellatrix to wince, the old wand maker to cower away, as if its touch could truly burn him. Narcissa Malfoy stood at the top of the steps, the light from behind surrounding her like a halo, whist Bellatrix looked up from the bowels of Hell, body plagued with shadows. An angel and the Devil. Two extremes yet on the same coin of same kin, same blood.

"What?" Bella demanded, ire flaring within her at her fun being cut short. She glanced at the cowering Ollivander, who lay in a foetal position, clinging to the wall, trying to draw the shadows closer. An uneasy look passed "It's Greyback," Narcissa's voice carried all the way down to Bellatrix. "He claims to have Potter." Under her sister's eyes, Bellatrix froze, every part of her muted, still. The light from above reflected with the dark depths, the smallest glimmer of anticipation deep within. The names stirred within the dungeons, darkly rousing some forgotten feeling within the prisoners, an emotion that they dared not believe. Hope. "Potter?" Bella repeated, voice soft, almost reverent. It was a name that tasted strange on her tongue, an acrid burn mingling with the lingering presence of blood. Their eyes met, silver blue against ebony onyx, silent understanding passing between them.

Wordlessly, Narcissa turned, her willowy shoulders tensed, almost as though she expected a blow from behind. The door closed softly, a small hairline of a crack peeking through, daring to spell such a miniscule of light within the abyss of obscurity. Absently, Bella glanced at the still cowering Ollivander, his thin gangly frame looking pitiful and ragged. Disgusted, Bellatrix swept past him, only to pause by a bound figure half concealed by shadows. Under the intense scrutiny, the figure's slight frame began to fight against its bounds, struggling to escape. "Little Luna," Bella cooed, an artificial tang under the overly sweetened words. Running a pale finger along the soft cheek, Bella smiled indulgently, tucking a stray honeyed curl behind the young witch's ear. "I'll be back for you," Bella promised, knowing that her prisoner could not answer, the silencing spell sealing her lips together.

The crystal chandelier winked against the brilliant glow of the carved marble fireplace, the light of the flames flickering across the rich purple walls. Three figures we surrounded by an array of varying people. The Malfoy family stood in front of the three, a young pale wizard bent, inspecting a swollen face, grey eyes expressionless. "Well?" Lucius asked, his face lined, drawn, yet there was an eager glint to those same grey eyes as his son's. Narcissa hung back, her expression closed off, just as guarded as Draco. "Is it Potter, Draco?" The blonde father persisted when his son Draco did not answer immediately.

"Perhaps…maybe…" Draco frowned, yet did not bother to glance at the face again; instead his eye sought his mothers, already making a move to stand by her side. "Look closer Draco," Lucius Malfoy pressed, moving in front of his son's way, determined for Draco to try again. "If we give the Potter to the Dark Lord…" Lucius gazed heavily on his son. "All would be forgiven."

Non-too discreetly, Greyback cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. "Let's not forget who found Potter, Malfoy." But Lucius waved of the werewolf's comment impatiently, unconcerned. "Yes, yes. Of course." Glancing at Potter, Lucius frowned, studying his face. "What have you done to him?" he demanded. "He looks like he's been hit by a stinging jinx." Light flooded into his grey eyes. "Draco!" he whispered fiercely. "Is that…could that be a scar?" with a vice-like grip on his son's shoulder, Lucius propelled the youngest Malfoy forward until Draco's nose was inches from the swollen, raw forehead, determined for Draco to inspect thoroughly.

"Isn't that the Mudblood?" Narcissa piped up suddenly, blue eyes fixed on a slender brunette with a mass of brown frizzing curls. The Snatcher that held the girl shoved her forward for inspection. Lucius eyed the girl, who struggled under the severe examination of grey eyes. "Yes," he breathed. I'm nearly sure of it – and look Draco! Isn't that Arthur Weasley's boy? What's his name…?" The young Malfoy hardly spared the three a glance, his pale gaze stubbornly fixed on the crackling fames of the orange fire. "Yeah," he said at last. "It could be." The statement settled heavily on the occupants of the drawing room, Snatchers shifting uncomfortably, the captured breathing panting heavily, breathing laboured. The Malfoy's dared not to breathe, as if such a mundane act could destroy the smallest flick of hope that was igniting within them.

Behind the prisoners, the drawing room doors opened, and a high, almost accusing voice sounded out, echoing against the walls. "What is this? What's happened, Cissy?" Bellatrix Lestrange moved within the room; slow languishing movements that were strangely sensuous. The raven-haired witch paused beside the boy that many hoped to be Harry Potter, yet her dark lidded eyes rested on the girl. "Little Mudblood," she greeted, her soft whispered caressing the air that it travelled on. It was a voice for a lover, one filled with dark promises of nights filled with pleasure. The girl shivered in revulsion, an act that Bella noted with a wide smile. "But surely," obsidian black eyes didn't leave the restrained girl, who involuntarily shuddered again under the press of dark eyes. "This is the Granger Mudblood? Potter's little friend?"

"It is!" Lucius exclaimed, urging himself closer to his sister-in-law. "And beside her, we think it's Potter – caught at last!" There was a moment of pause, where Bellatrix Lestrange finally managed to drag her gaze away from the Mudblood, long enough so to glance at the swollen face beside her. "Potter?" she shrieked, gazed raking over the plump, blistered face. "Are you sure?" she asked, but did not wait for an answer. "Well – the Dark Lord must be informed immediately." With flaming black eyes, Bella dragged back her left sleeve, exposing a pale, slender arm that held a thick coiling black mark. "I was about to call him!" The whine in Lucius Malfoy's voice made Bella pause, just before a large hand encircled her wrist, stopping her right hand from moving closer to her Mark. "I shall summon him Bella. Potter has been brought to my house, there for under my authority –"

"Authority?" Bella sneered, voice full of scorn. "What authority? You lost all authority when you lost your wand, Lucius. Take your hands off me at once!" The two figures snarled at each other, luminous blonde and shadowed onyx, two extremes of the spectrum, glaring, black eyes on grey. "You did not capture the boy –" Lucius argued, only to be cut of by a sudden interjection. "Begging your pardon Mr Malfoy," Greyback puffed out his chest. "But it was us that caught Potter. And it will be us claiming the gold…"

"Gold?" Bella laughed, though it sounded hollow as she tried to shake off Lucius' hand. "Take your gold, you filthy scavenger. What do I want with gold? I seek only the honour of his – of – " Her efforts of freedom ceased, dark eyes fixing on a ruby hilt that lay clasped within dirty hands. Noting her lack of fight, Lucius hungrily let go, ripping up his own sleeve. "Stop!" Bella's shrill shriek pierced through the room, causing Lucius to glance up with a wary expression. "What is that?" Bella whispered, already moving towards the sword, hands outstretched.

"A sword," one of the Snatchers grunted, yet the one who held it, backed away at Bella's approach, his eyes struggling to light up with defiance. "Give it to me," Bellatrix breathed, hand palm-up, waiting. The Snatcher shook his head. "It not yourn, Missus, I reckons I found it." Dark clouds rolled over the eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange, fleeting, but enough to warn the Snatcher. He was just about to offer it to the wild witch, but a jet of red light scent him flying, the sword clattering to the ground. Protests rose from the other Snatchers, one even drew their wand, demanding. "What are you playing at, woman?"

But even then, there was no stopping what had already been set in motion. The single word; Stupefy leaving Bellatix's mouth continuously, her wand flying in all directions, hitting its mark each time. They fell where they stood, crumpling towards the ground, a moment of preserved shock on their faces. All too soon, only one Snatcher remained, Greyback kneeling, head bowed as the small Bella bent over him, her face ashen, the ruby hilt gripped against white-knuckled hands. "Where did you get this?" Bellatrix hissed, yanking out the bent werewolf's wand from his yielding hand, dark eyes boring into him. Greyback snarled, his yellowed teeth bared. "How dare you?" he roared. "Release me, woman!"

"Where did you find this sword?" Bella demanded, ignoring his biting words completely. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!" Greyback struggled, but still couldn't find purchase under Bellatrix's charm. "In their tent - Release me, I say!"

Bella did, with a small, sharp flick of her wand. She turned her back on the wolf, dismissing him. "Draco," Bellatrix snapped. "Move this scum outside." She waved airily towards the unconscious men. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me." Pale blue eyes turned, furious to Bellatrix, Narcissa's pale face abloom with colour. "Don't you dare speak to Draco like –"

"Be quiet," Bella hissed, her eyes glinting frostily. "This situation is graver than you could possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem." Bella eyed the sword, her chest heaving. Pale fingers ran over the hilt, before gently brushing the line of the sword, skin teasing against the razor sharp line. Then her eyes turned, resting on the three silent prisoners. "The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself…he must not be harmed. But until he find out…I must… I must know…" Address her sister, Bellatrix ordered. "The prisoners must be places in the cellar until I know what to do!"

When Narcissa started to protest, Bella snapped, her face twisting n anger. "Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!" A hiss escaped from Bella wand, causing a small line of smoking wisps to coil upwards, leaving a singe on the carpet. Finally, Narcissa sighed, looking reluctant as she turned to Greyback. "Take the prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback." Under her voice, Greyback stepped forward, ready to obey. "Wait," Bella smiled wickedly, a stretch of lips that barely concealed teeth. "All except … except for the Mudblood." The redhead began to protest, struggle. "No!" he roared. "You can have me, keep me!"

Ire washed over Bella, sharp and unsated. She glared at the Weasel boy; his cheeks flushed high in a rich colour, eyes wild. With a swift, sharp turn of her wrist, Bella heard the reverberating sound of her hand connecting with his amber stained cheek. "If she dies under questioning," Bella hissed lips close to the red print of her hand. "I'll take you next. Bloodtraitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs Greyback, and make sure that they are secure, but nothing more to them – yet." Carelessly, Bella threw the werewolf his wand, just before she reached within her robed, where a short silver knife lay strapped to her thigh.

Small pale fingers fisted into thick chestnut hair, whilst Bella savagely cut the Mudblood free of the roping bounds. The soft, frizzy stands gave way under the strength of Bellatrix's harsh tug as she brought the girl into the centre of the room, leaving Greyback to drag the remaining two back, widening the gap between them and Bellatrix's new play mate. "Hermione!" The Weasley roared, trying to fight, with no avail, eyes desperate as they stayed fixed on the motionless girl trapped in Bellatrix's arms. "Hermione!" Laughing softly, Bella bent her head, so that her lips brushed the soft skin behind Hermione Granger's ear. "Say goodbye," she whispered. "Chances are, you'll never see him again."

The softest of whimpers escaped Hermione's lips, a glistening sheen glazing her brown eyes as she watched with great melancholy at the closing doors, where Harry and Ron departed through. Bellatrix strokes the length of the young witch's jaw with the tip of her wand, eyes close as she thought. "Leave us," she said at last, not opening her eyes. There was no questioning such a voice, of trying to speak out against it. Obediently, the Malfoy family left Bellatrix Lestrange and Hermione Granger alone in the drawing room, already expecting to hear screams as they were leaving.

Yet, sometimes the silence isn't as comforting as one would first believe.

Note:

Oh my sweet baby Jesus. That was one dragging chapter, eh? I had to do it, since it proves to be the basis of the whole story. So, yeah, set in the Deathly Hallows, when they're captured and taken to the Malfoy Manor. It is here where the book will change and I just hope you can bear with me. The next chapter is waaaay faster paced.

Oh, and hope the beginning didn't freak you out too much. Since Bella has such a, well, strong character, all I can think of is that she's got this S&M thing going on. I will try and be as delicate as I can with the situation, but I don't know whether the two will fall in love along the way, or just leave it as a sense of attraction. Think a balance of both.

Anyways, much love and hope the length made up for the like, paragraph pf te last XD

Xxxxx

Lisa