There were many things that Bellatrix adored about her sister. Her generosity, not only to her family but to various charities, certainly stood out. She was a wonderful mother, a loving wife, and the perfect sister and best friend. Bellatrix could always count on her in a bind, and she learned from their mother how to make Bellatrix's favourite dessert – pumpkin pie – right down to the exact ratio of whip cream required to make it spectacular. Her sense of humour may not have been Bella's, but they knew how to share a laugh. Unfortunately, there were several traits about her darling sister that drove her absolutely insane. On occasion, Narcissa could be the most frustrating perfectionist. Her appearance, home, and state of the men in her life were never safe from her scrutinizing eye. She nagged to no end, something she also must have gotten from their mother, and always knew the perfect way to really dig at a person, but do so with a smile. Neither Bellatrix nor Lucius were exceptions to her sharp tongue, though Bella was more than happy to give it back whenever she dished it her way. The woman was meticulous with the cleanliness of her home, and had already gotten Bellatrix in trouble several times over the four days she had stayed there for leaving cups in obscure places and tracking dirt in from the back garden.

She would never, ever say it to Narcissa, but living under her roof almost felt like living at home with her parents. Bellatrix felt like an intrusion whenever her sister and her husband had some alone time at night – not that that stopped her from interrupting, but some very small part of her felt bad for doing so. She was disciplined for the most ridiculous things, things a grown woman should no longer have to deal with, and nothing ever felt like hers. She felt out of place and a little uncomfortable, and decided on her fourth morning there that she loved to visit her sister, but she certainly couldn't live here for longer than a week. That was her allotted timeframe that she gave herself when she moved in. One week to let herself simmer, and then decide if she wanted to kick Rodolphus permanently to a separate room. Divorces were unheard of in her circles, unfortunately. While Bellatrix was not one to adhere to social standards, she couldn't stand the humiliation and gossip that would follow if she left her husband.

Now that she had some peace in a place that suited her more than the damned public hospital, Bellatrix decided that she knew, vaguely, why Rodolphus would have affair with some little whore from work. In his own ridiculous way, he wanted her to be jealous of him. However, he pushed the lesson way too far, and Bellatrix thought he definitely crossed a line. She may have been in love with another man, but Bellatrix bore it in silence, and had never once soiled her marriage vows. Rodolphus, on the other hand, had done just that. Clearly he didn't know how to play any sort of game, because he went overboard on his first attempt. It was actually a little pathetic. For now, Bellatrix knew she didn't want to look at him. The sight of his face would be enough to send her into a violent rage, and potentially set her bedroom in fire again. However, she knew that once she had her cool down period at her sister's, she would be able to face him again and properly handle the situation. That was still a few days off, and she was more than happy to take the time she needed to sort herself out.

Well, until the afternoon on her fourth day happened. Narcissa acclimatized to their mother's world flawlessly, and Bellatrix visibly recoiled when her sister informed her that morning at breakfast that she was hosting tea in the afternoon for all the wives they knew. Horrified, Bellatrix tried to worm her way out of it, but Narcissa somehow managed to force her into setting up the sitting room, and then slipped in the line, "Oh, well you're here, and the ladies are almost here, and I've set up a spot for you right next to me…"

Somehow, Bellatrix was forced into tea and crumpets with her generation's societal snobs. They all arrived in a flurry of clacking heels and swishing cloaks, which the house elf gathered up without a word. They were noisy, obnoxious, and clad in white gloves that served no real function in Bella's eyes. She guessed that it gave them an excuse not to lift a finger for fear that they would spoil those delicate gloves. As much as it pained her to say, Narcissa looked every bit that societal snob. In an elegant purple dress that cinched at the waist and flowed elegantly down to her calves. Her hair was drawn up in a lovely knot, and her make-up was perfected down to the very last detail. There were several other Narcissa's in the room with her, and they all crossed their ankles when they sat, just as their mothers taught them. They held their tea plates with grace, and a pinky finger extended whenever they sipped their drinks delicately. No one touched the baked goods for fear of being the first one to show signs of hungry.

And then there was Bella.

Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, just barely brushed, but pleasant enough to look presentable. Her mother had also taught her how to sit, but she opted to cross one leg over the other, her hemline dragged up to expose more skin than any of the other women. She opted for no make-up, as she hadn't expected to stay long enough to socialize, but Bellatrix noticed the distinct once over each woman gave her when they leaned in for a greeting hug. Her dress was plain, not satin, not silk, but form fitting to the knees, after which it flared out only a little. She was the voluptuous temptress, and the other women were angels in pearls. It certainly didn't bother her, but as the little charade wore on, she slowly started to feel their stolen glances chip at her. Despite the fact she was sitting on a love seat with Narcissa, who sang her praises whenever possible, she felt isolated. Outside of this, she wouldn't be caught dead with any of these women. In fact, she knew some of their husbands better than she knew them, and she decided that she preferred it that way.

She never felt this way when she was with her fellow Death Eaters. They respected Bellatrix. Even though she was a woman among men, she had had the upper hand for quite some time now. Regardless of the fact that she and the Dark Lord were clearly more than servant and master, Bellatrix had a certain power for the dark arts that appealed to men. Unfortunately, she couldn't discuss it here. How many of them knew she spent nights out with their husbands, torturing Ministry stooges and setting Muggle homes on fire? How many truly knew their husbands like she did? How many of these women knew their darkness? It almost felt offensive to sit there and drink tea as she listened to idle gossip, none of which she was even remotely interested in. Someone bought new drapes. Someone else and her husband had a fight at a restaurant in front of everyone. Someone else is holding a charity fundraiser in two weeks to benefit starving children somewhere.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and leaned forward to the coffee table. She then grabbed a handful of cookies, the first of the afternoon to be tasted, and sunk back into the depths of Narcissa's couch, shoving them in her mouth moodily. This was ridiculous. It was like she was being held prisoner at her mother's dinner parties all over again, but this time she didn't have her father to rescue her by sending her off to look after her younger sister. There was one small glimmer of hope that Lucius might absently stroll in and she could escort him out, but that seemed unlikely. When he found out the women were coming over for tea, he made up some phony excuse to leave the house and was gone in a flash. Draco had been napping since noon, and though Bellatrix wanted to go wake him, she was sure Narcissa would object. The toddler was bound to cause trouble, she'd argue, which would make Bellatrix grin and shrug innocently. As much as she fantasized about her nephew running amuck and terrorizing the ladies, she knew it was never going to happen. Unfortunately, it was going to stay a fantasy.

Somewhere in the dizzy fog that was her focus on reality, she heard her name being called. Straightening up a little, she cleared her throat and cocked an eyebrow, "Sorry, what?"

"I asked how you were feeling, Bellatrix," a brunette woman who looked remarkably similar to Narcissa insisted, tea cup in hand. "What exactly happened that night?"

She shot her sister a slightly miffed look for telling the other women about her fall, and then returned her attention back to the woman, a forced smirk on her lips, "I slipped on the staircase. It was stupid."

"Oh, that's what they all say," another woman replied somewhat snootily. "Did your husband play an active role in your… slip?"

Bellatrix felt her eyes narrow at the bitch, and then with a deadpan expression repeated, "I slipped on the staircase."

"All right, dear, no need to become defensive."

She gave her sister another glare and returned her focus to eating her cookies, unhappy that the conversation had somehow drifted over to her.

"Now, all that aside, how is your husband?"

"Fine," Bellatrix forced. They seemed to wait for more, breath baited. Whenever they were asked about their husbands, the woman launched into some tirade about their work life and what promotions they had gotten recently, or other accomplishments. To be honest, Bellatrix didn't know or care about what Rodolphus did at the office, nor did he have any special hobbies that she could think of.

"Can we expect to see the Lestrange family expanding anytime soon?"

She felt Narcissa stiffen beside her as Bellatrix crushed a cookie in her hand. How dare that cow ask such a personal question? Bellatrix wasn't aware that they were friends in any way that might indicate such an inquiry would be appropriate. She gritted her teeth, and snapped, "No."

"Well, you might want to get on that soon. You must be almost thirty by now?"

"Tick tock, darling."

"I bet you and Rodolphus would have such lovely little children!"

Bellatrix said nothing. She couldn't have children. That much was clear in her private circles, and if these women were close enough to be included in them, they would know that too. It wasn't the subject matter that upset Bella, but rather the presumption that these cows took when they spoke to her. Without saying another word, Bellatrix stood up, dumped her remaining cookies back on the plate. She certainly didn't want to cause a scene, especially for Narcissa's sake, who looked pained enough already now that the topic of children had been brought up. Instead, she decided to leave. However, it seemed one of the women was remarkably persistent.

"Oh, was it something I said?" she asked, a hint of a smile on her lips, "I didn't mean to offend you-"

"Do you know," Bellatrix spat, turning back to face the woman quickly, her eyes flashing, "that your husband fucks Muggle women before he kills them?"

The woman looked absolutely mortified, her jaw dropping indignantly. Narcissa gasped Bella's name heatedly behind her, but she ignored her sister, too sick of presumptuous stuck-up snobs to care about spoiling the tea party.

"Rumour has it he likes to bend them over tables and everything," she taunted, her features rigid. "Is it something he's missing out on at home?"

Silence continued in the room, and Bellatrix cocked her head to the side, and then shrugged, "I didn't mean to offend you, my dear."

She fluttered her eyelashes and then turned away, storming out of the parlour and slamming the door behind her. Narcissa was going to throttle her. Before she could get the chance, Bellatrix darted upstairs and grabbed her wand, apparating away from the Malfoy Manor in a heartbeat. For a moment, she thought about going home. However, she couldn't face her husband. Instead, she sent herself to the one place where she felt truly at peace, even if she wasn't particularly wanted.

Feet bare, Bellatrix strolled along the cold floor of Voldemort's dungeons, and then moved with ease up from the bowels of his home. On the first floor, she heard his beloved snake hiss at her, but when she searched for the source of the sound, she found nothing. Eventually, she stopped at his office, but found it empty. A sadness gripped her. Hopefully, he was actually home. She wasn't about to lurk around in his house all day just to wait for him… That would probably infuriate him. Bellatrix hadn't been here alone since she last begged him to let them carry on their tryst, but it felt as if no time had passed at all.

"Bellatrix," she heard him purr from down the hall. "What are you doing here?"

For a moment, she kept her back to him, her head cocked to the side as she stared blankly into space. He called her name again and she shut her eyes, lips curling up when she heard his footsteps march slowly toward her. He stopped close enough for Bellatrix to hear his breathing, and they simply stood still in the darkened hallway for some time. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she couldn't bring herself to face him just yet. Suddenly, there was a hand on her elbow and it slides down her arm, the tips of his fingers curling over her limp ones.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in her ear, her skin prickling.

"Perfect," Bellatrix replied. "My medi-witch approved my return to you last night."

"I will expect to see you soon then," the Dark Lord remarked, his free hand grabbed her hair and pushing the mass all the one side. She nodded, unable to say anything else in his presence. She hadn't felt his touch in so very long. There may have been a few lingering, fleeting accidental scrapes along the way, but she was almost overwhelmed by him at that very moment.

"Why did you come here?" he demanded again, fingers walking down her back until they reached her hips, tightly wrapped in her dark dress. He paused momentarily, and then walked the thin digits over the swell in her body, arousing a deep yearning in her that had been patient for far too long. She stayed silent, as if she hadn't heard the question. All of a sudden, his hand clamped around her hips and shoved her back into the wall forcefully, head colliding against the stone. It hurt, but she held her tongue. Instead, she stared down her nose at him, eyes half-closed and breathing light as he glared at her. He repeated the question, this time harshly, but Bellatrix was too far gone now to fear his tone. Their eyes met, and she knew that he understood why she could come here to him. Cheeks sunken, a sign of irritation, he reached out and wrapped a hand around her throat, pushing her back further into the wall. Bellatrix heard Nagini hiss again from down the hall. She knew he wanted to ask her again, maybe chastise her for coming here with some level of comfort she ought not to have, but instead, he kissed her.

It wasn't the chaste kiss they had shared so long ago when Draco was born. Instead, it was full of more passion than she had expected, as though he felt the same longing she had all this time. It was reviving. It was like he was breathing new life into her. She parted her lips, the perfect specimen of compliance and eagerness wrapped up in one woman. Their rhythm came naturally, but she kept her hands at her side to keep it from a romantic embrace. When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers, their breathing equally ragged, his hands still compressed around her neck. She opened her mouth, and then whispered, "Please?"

Her voice was strained, desperate and enamoured. She couldn't help it. The Dark Lord seemed to contemplate her plea for a second, and then bit down roughly on her plump lower lip, making her cry out against him. Her hand flew up and ran through his hair, fingers knotting in the thickness as she tugged at him to release her. When he finally did, she felt something wet dribble down her chin. Unsure of whether it was blood or saliva, Bellatrix licked it away regardless and dragged his head back down to hers, their lips mashing in a denied fury finally unleashed. He seemed to want to hoist her up, but her dress was too tight to pull her legs apart. She noticed him reach into his pocket and withdraw his wand, and then run it along the side of her leg, cutting the slit into the fabric. Then, to her astonishment, he tossed his wand aside and ripped the material with his hands, breaking it all the way up to her waist. Bellatrix happily helped hoist herself up, legs wrapping around him in a familiar fashion as he nibbled down her neck.

She ached for him. Literally. Every muscle in her body screamed for his touch again, and as she hastily undid his belt buckle, he set her legs down and crooked his fingers under the band of her knickers, sliding them down her legs. She stepped out of them and kicked them aside, gasping a little when he picked her back up only a hint, and then thrust into her completely without warning. It was a splendid mixture of pain and pleasure. Exactly what she needed. He was divine, in every sense of the word.

Bellatrix moaned softly as he continued to ram her against the wall, his head nestled in the crook of her neck. With one hand digging into her neck, he kept one firmly on her hips, his breath hitching against her skin with each thrust.

"Children," Bellatrix groaned suddenly. He paused, and looked up at her flushed cheeks. She had wanted to tell him why she was there, but it sort of came out jumbled in her sex addled brain, "They wouldn't stop talking about children… and I… I can't…"

The Dark Lord gave her a quick peck, nothing comforting or soothing, but potentially as a means to shut her up, and then arched an eyebrow, "I hate children."

Merlin, she loved him. Bellatrix cried out again when he renewed his efforts, her hips cocked just perfectly to give him a deeper angle. She came shortly after, apparently too enthralled in him to continue on for long. He managed to carry on for some time after, groaning her name against her skin when he finished, fingers leaving dark bruises on her body.

"Can I stay here?" she asked as he slowly withdrew from her. When he looked up, there was this frustratingly unreadable look on his face, and for a moment she thought he might kick her out now that he was satisfied.

"Only for today," the Dark Lord told her, making her smile darkly, "and you aren't allowed any clothing."

"I suppose I'll find it in me to accept those terms," she exhaled dramatically, grasping the bottom of her ruined dress and dragging it up and over her head. "Any more terms that I should know about?"

His own dark smile matched hers, and he wrapped an arm around her lower back, "I might be able to think of a few…"

And with that, Bellatrix fell into Heaven.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Yeay for whoever requested this in my weekly poll! I had the muse as soon as I saw there was an audience for it, so I hope you weren't disappointed. I'm pretty exhausted, and wrote this later at night than I like to be writing, so I apologize for any mistakes made.

Love, love, love!