Her nails dug into the wood of her dining room table, her face pressed against the cool surface. Bellatrix sighed as her husband thrust deeply into her, his fingers bruising her hips, his breath hot on her neck.

She had finally given in. It wasn't that Bellatrix had forgiven Rodolphus, or accepted him as anything more than he was, but Bellatrix decided she could participate in marital intercourse for the sake of some peace around the house. After all, it wasn't terrible. They had always been evenly matched partners in the past, and even after their incident, it seemed nothing had really changed. Bellatrix was, however, less interested in the actual physical act of sex with Rodolphus than she was with the foreplay. That was more enjoyable than any sort of angle, thrust, position, and speed that the man could offer. Foreplay was the time where she reined queen. It usually started on the tail-end of a fight. Sometimes it was overly physical, but neither of them cared about the marks on their aristocratic skin the next day. Foreplay was fun. She could dominate, hit, and acceptably bite as hard as she wished. Her husband indulged her because she knew he wanted to make her happy. He also bent her over the dining room table because he thought it was what she wanted. Although he wasn't a tender man, she was fairly sure he would have been just as happy having plain, boring sex in the bedroom, but he took her roughly on obscure surfaces around their home because he thought it made her happy.

It didn't. It made him happy and it kept Bellatrix's life at home on something steady rather than fragile. As much as Bellatrix enjoyed the chaos she brought on the outside world, she decided shortly after an explosive fight with her husband, and an abrupt, painful dismissal by her lover, that it was better to have some sort peace in her life. Somewhere, there ought to be quiet and complacency and it might as well be with the man who would happily live in that environment with her. After all, the Dark Lord had yet to take her back, despite her longing and silent begging whenever they were near one another.

She came to the conclusion early on that it didn't have anything to do with her. If he was upset with her in some way, he would have made it perfectly clear both publically and privately. However, they hadn't been alone in almost a month, and whenever she tried to surprise him, he was out of his home. The place was disintegrating, the wear and tear more obvious with each visit, and she wondered if he bothered to use it as anything more than a storage space. He seldom went along with them anymore on assignments either, so the chances of seeing him were remote. Bella wasn't the only one who had noticed it. There were several in the inner circle who commented on his absence, but that accompanied by an irritable mood whenever he was there meant no one dared question the strangeness.

There was one among them who knew. Severus Snape seemed to be the favourite lately, and whenever Bellatrix saw him, she wanted to rip that sallow skin off his sickly little face. It was infuriating to know that he was privy to information she was not, and as the weeks passed by with no word from her lover, she decided to find out on her own.

A hand suddenly locked around her hair, and Bellatrix gasped somewhat involuntarily as Rodolphus yanked her head back, lips pressed to her neck. He was almost finished. She could tell by the pace, the way his hips jerked a little more now, the way he panted heavily… He lasted much longer now, though she wasn't sure if that was good or not. At first, it had been such a long time since they had engaged in any sort of physical intimacy that he was done in a matter of minutes. However, as the bi-weekly, sometimes more, event became routine, he had built up his stamina again. Sometimes it was a pain, other times she relaxed and let her body enjoy the occasional pleasurable tingle. She never finished. Not anymore. Maybe if she put some effort into it she might, but Bella wasn't about to do that for him.

He groaned her name into her neck, his free arm wrapped tight around her clothed body, until finally he relaxed, his breathing even again. Bellatrix straightened up and cracked her neck noisily, then pushed him off. Her husband sprawled back on the dining room table, a pleased smile on his face as she straightened out her maroon dress.

"Care to join me for a shower?" he asked, lazily nudging her with a limp hand, "Maybe we can have a second round? We haven't shagged in the shower in ages."

"No."

"Why not?" he demanded as she marched across the large dining room, her heels clacking noisily.

"Believe it or not, I have other things to do tonight besides you," she sniffed, glancing back at him down her nose. "Shower by yourself."

He sat up, slipping his pants back on, and then frowned at her, "Are you going to see him? Look, Bella, he doesn't see anyone these days-"

"I know," she half-shouted, eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm not going to see him. I'm going out."

"Where?"

"It's none of your business."

"Bellatrix," he called, following her out a little awkwardly as he no doubt readjusted himself, "I have a right to know."

"Do I need your permission to go anywhere?" she demanded venomously, pausing only to turn back and give him the dirtiest glare she could muster. He shook his head, and she rolled her eyes, "Good. I don't care where you go because I trust you enough not to care. Do me the same courtesy, will you?"

He sighed, but finally his footsteps stopped following her. Free from his watchful, wounded eyes, Bellatrix popped into a spare lavatory in the first floor to freshen up a little, and then snapped at her house elf to find her black cloak. Moments later, the creature was at her side, she had slipped into it, and vanished from her home.

Where she ended up wasn't a place she would normally haunt. Spinner's End, the known habitat of Severus Snape, was located in the pitiful town of Cokeworth. The houses were grey and boring, and whenever she had been there before, it was always pouring. It seemed like all the precipitation in the entire nation huddled around this one area. Why Snape wouldn't just take up any number of offers by her brother-in-law to let him buy the man a new house was beyond her. It certainly couldn't be a sentimental place. As far as she was aware, it was his childhood home, and nothing good ever came from that.

Now, she couldn't remember which of the hovels belonged to Severus. So, she wandered up and down the lane for some time, peeking in windows and judging from the decay of the gardens which might suit him the most. Eventually, she settled for one on the very end of a set of attached homes. The garden was absolutely miserable, with only weeds lapping up the rain water. She knew he would be home. It was late August, and dearest Severus wouldn't have to return to his position at Hogwarts until September. She paused in front of it, arched an eyebrow, and then poked her head around the front window. Unfortunately, the curtains blocked her view of the innards of the house. She drew up her hood and returned to the rough wooden door, knocking loudly several times to the point her knuckles hurt.

No light flickered on in the darkened house, but Bellatrix could have sworn she saw some sort of rustling by the curtains. She knocked again, and just as she dug into her cloak to retrieve her wand, the door opened about two inches. Snape's beady eyes and pale skin shone in the darkness, and she cleared her throat noisily, "Are you just going to make me stand out here in this weather and catch my death?"

"I sense, Bellatrix," Snape drawled, opening the door a touch more, "that it would take much more than some rain to take you from us."

She shoved her way up the steps and against the door, but it seemed some sort of Muggle lock kept her from pushing in entirely.

"Snape, open the fucking door," she snapped, her eyes narrowing at him. "I'm here for a social visit. I know you might be unsure about how to handle visitors, as they're a rare occurrence-"

"All right, all right, all right," he muttered, making a great show of unhooking several locks on the inside. "Just stop talking."

Bella grinned a little as she slipped inside. This was her first trip to the man's home, and as she shoved her discarded cloak into his hands, she realized it felt much more invasive than she had imagined. Severus Snape was one of the most elusive, private, and odd men she knew. Sometimes she thought he was a seedy little rat, and other times, when they worked together, she labeled him a competent Death Eater and dangerous man. Perhaps that was what put her on edge about him of all people; she had no idea who he truly was.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this social visit?" Snape inquired as Bellatrix started poking around the first floor of his home.

It was what she expected. For the most part, things seemed in slight disarray. The kitchen was basically empty, aside from the absolute necessities. No photos on the walls. The rooms were small and drab, though it was fairly clear that the one lined with books, wall to wall, with several fairly worn chairs was where the younger man spent most of his time. That was where they stopped. Bellatrix had yet to answer him. Instead, it seemed clear that she was intent on seeing every part of his small home before they settled into anything. He followed in silence, hands clasped behind his back, until he finally took a seat on one of the worn chairs. Bella's nose wrinkled as a bit of dust fluffed off unceremoniously.

"Have a seat, Bellatrix," he offered, pointing to the chair across from him. She snorted loudly.

"I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, rummaging in his pocket for something. "Smoke?"

That was what she smelt in the air. Cigarette smoke. Her fingers twitched. Merlin, when was the last time she had indulged in a smoke? She hesitated to take it from him, but eventually gave it, snatching the stick from his outstretched hand quickly. He offered to light it for her too, but she used her own wand to see to that, inhaling the sweet deliciousness that came with the first breath of a new cigarette.

"Can I assume the edge is gone now?" he inquired, arching an eyebrow at her as he relaxed into his chair, one leg resting on the other lazily. Bella shrugged, blowing a large puff of smoke in his general direction. He sighed, and she could have sworn he rolled his eyes, "Bellatrix, as much as I enjoy your silence, it's only polite to tell me why you're here."

"Now who's on edge, Severus?" she trilled, smirking a little as she continued to happily puff away on her cigarette. "I wanted to discuss something with you."

"Oh? What have I done to earn this honour?"

"You've wormed your way into a coveted position."

He stiffened, and the air between them instantly changed. She paced back and forth in front of him, until she finally finished her cigarette and tossed the butt in the extinguished fireplace.

"Bellatrix-"

"Somehow, despite the fact you never speak up at meetings, you've become one of his favourites," she started. "You've had so many little meetings with him about something important. That something is bothering him immensely, and I demand to know what it entails."

His eyebrows shot up, and he continued to smoke in silence. Bellatrix, however, was in no mood for his lack of responses to her demands, and she planted her hands on her hips.

"I'm concerned, Severus."

"If the Dark Lord has not informed you of our discussions, why should I make you privy to them?"

"I am only asking because of my worry-"

"The Dark Lord is a grown man," Severus interjected, making her glare. "He can look after himself."

"Sometimes every man needs a little extra help, even if they don't realize it."

"Do you doubt him?"

"Of course not!" she snapped, taking a few steps toward him, "He is the most… He knows what he is doing, but he refuses to tell me."

"Why should you know?"

The look on his face indicated some sort of mockery in his question, and she resisted the urge to rake her nails across his face. Instead, she took a deep breath, keeping her composure in a way that he ought to give her some credit for.

"He and I share many things," Bellatrix ground out, "and if something is troubling him as much as it is, I have a right to know."

"Have you discussed this with him?" he inquired, finally finishing his cigarette. He tossed the wasted butt on a pile nearby, his head cocked to the side. "I wouldn't dare bring up our private conversation with anyone he does not deign to also share it with."

Her lip twitched, and finally she snapped. Forgoing all sense of decency, Bellatrix stormed across the space between them and climbed onto his lap, the tip of her wand pressed to his throat. His body felt stiff, but he seemed to keep something a calm expression on his features.

"If you won't give up the information voluntarily, I know how to force it out of you," she snarled. "Piece by piece, you will tell me everything you and the Dark Lord have spoken about lately. If you think you've seen me at my best when I make Muggle men weep… That will be nothing!"

He glanced down at her wand, and then met her eyes. Her snarl was evident as she pressed the wand into his neck sharply. Before she could get the curse out, something shifted. His hands suddenly dragged her close to him, and he lifted her off the chair, slamming them both to the ground. The jolt loosened her grip on her wand and he managed to knock it away before she could regain the upper-hand position.

"Let me tell you, Lestrange," he growled, a hand slipping up between them and latching into her neck. The air slowly compressed upward, and she struggled to breathe, "If you think you deserve to know the Dark Lord's business, then say it to him yourself. Just because you frequently inhabit his bed doesn't make you privileged to know every detail of the man's life."

She gasped angrily, jabbing her wand as hard as she could into his side, using it as a physical weapon rather than a magical one. He barely seemed to notice, and merely shifted his weight about so that he was situated between her legs, keeping him safe from her attempts at kicking.

"Threaten me all you want," he continued dangerously. "I welcome a challenge from the great Bellatrix Lestrange."

He tilted his head down, his ear close to her mouth. Bellatrix tried to spit something at him, but his thumb pressed hard into her windpipe, and she was starting to see white spots in front of her eyes. It seemed as though he was waiting for something to come back at his taunt, but she couldn't get anything out. A fire raged inside her. She wanted to gauge his eyes out. She wanted to cut his tongue off. She wanted to pin his ears to his head. Unfortunately, all she could do was focus on staying conscious.

"That's what I thought," he purred. She glared up at him, eyes bulging more than usual as the weight of his body pressed down on her hips. Despite the position, nothing about it felt sexual. It was all about the power in the situation, and much to her disgust, he had all of it. When her eyes were finally rolling back in her head, he released her and pushed himself off the floor. She lay there, gasping, a hand on her throat. He pulled out another cigarette and settled back into his chair.

Dignity thoroughly bruised, and possibly her throat too, Bellatrix rose to her feet shakily. He held out his packet of cigarettes toward her, offering her a second. She slapped it away angrily and stormed out of the house. Perhaps Severus had a point. If someone had come to her and tried to tarnish her loyalty to her master, she would have killed them on the spot. Perhaps choking her was quite reserved… If she really needed to know, she ought to see her lover and find out his problems on her own. She would have to catch him at some point, after all. He couldn't be out of his home forever, and when she explained why she needed to know what was bothering him, he was bound to understand.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

No, Bella, I'm sure he won't. Delusional much?

Anywho. I once read a Bellatrix/Snape story that was super interesting, and while I don't think I would ever pair them together, I find writing their relationship immensely fun.