Woop! Another chapter! Sorry for waits, I'm trying REALLY hard to get better at it. For people reading my other stories, I AM still doing them, it's just that this is the only story I can get solid ideas for. Sorry. I'm sorry if I messed up the format with this, I've had a few problems with it. lol Thanks to Lou for helping me with getting ideas and kicking my arse into gear with this and as always thanks to my amazing beta Ellie who still manages to beta my stuff even when she leaves me to go half way around the world. *Claps* Love you! Anyway; I do not own Harry Potter, anything you see in here that you recognize I do not own.
Enjoy and please review. :)

Bella fled back to France as soon as she could; it was too much for her. Blood, screaming, general massacre and torture she could deal with, but the heartbroken look on her youngest sister's beautiful tear-stained face as her Mother told her Andromeda was dead to her now was too much to bare.

At that moment in time all Bellatrix Lestrange cared for was to be with her husband, in one of her rare emotional moods where she would rather curl up into the arms of the man that loved her than let her wild temper run free. But if Bella thought she would receive such love from the man she had married tonight she was much mistaken.

As soon as she arrived at her manor she spotted her husband. She had apparated into the living room. Mascara still ran down Bellatrix's face and as she wiped away the last of the tears as she approached her husband.

"Rod...?" She called his name.

Rodolphus looked up at her from his armchair near the fire, a sinister glow on his face. But this didn't matter much to Bellatrix, she simply sat down on his lap as soon as she reached him, curling up. She stared ahead blankly into the fire, trying so hard not to cry - crying was
weak really, and she was already ashamed of herself for letting herself cry in the first place - that she did not notice that her husband did not wrap his muscular arms around his wife or respond to her in anyway as she sat herself down upon him.

Rodolphus was in a bad mood. The couple sat like this for a few long moments before Rodolphus spoke up, his deep voice with his ever-fading French accent awakening his English wife from her thoughts.

"I went to see Francis today..." He said, finally responding to his wife, looking down at her and pulling her closer in what could have been mistaken for a loving gesture.

Bellatrix's eyes widened slightly, she knew exactly who Francis was. When Rodolphus was a small boy his mother had made him play with the other pure-blooded children, trying to gain status and raise him higher in later life by knowing the better off and more well known pureblood families. Francis was one of the only boys that Mrs Lestrange introduced to young Rodolphus who didn't end up with a hole punched in the side of his face, or other various violent pass-times. A year ago Francis had married a pure blooded French woman, Cassandra Ellis. Nine months ago, Cassandra had fallen pregnant... Bellatrix knew where this was going before her husband even spoke.

"Cassandra gave birth this morning..." Rodolphus' grip on his wife tightened, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh.

Bellatrix didn't even dare ask what she had given birth to. Once she was violently thrown from her husband's arms and to the cold, hard floor, her head narrowly missing the fireplace, she could guess well enough.

"YOU CAN'T EVEN GIVE ME ONE GOD FORSAKEN SON AND FRANCIS GETS TWIN BOYS, BELLATRIX! TWINS! TWO OF THEM!" Rodolphus was on his feet in a blur of sudden rage, towering over his wife.

Bellatrix stared up at her husband. Her fiery and wild personality was her best feature, in Bellatrix's opinion, but faced with the sudden wrath of her husband as her wand rolled across the carpet and under the couch where she had dropped it in shock, she knew it was best to 'play dead'. She took it. Punch after punch after kick after punch. It was all an endless blur of shouting and hitting.

She lay there, doing as she did years ago when it was her father and not her lover giving out the abuse; she got lost in her own mind, thought of other things. Memories. Memories of her husband...

That first day at Hogwarts on the Hogwarts express when he had been the cute little boy who barely spoke any English that young Bella Black had sat next to.

Running home that Christmas and begging her mother to get her French lessons so she could talk to the boy that had made such a big impression on her.

Second year when Rodolphus, now fluent in English and French, had proudly spoken to Bella without stumbling or saying silly things he never meant to say.

Third year, that first beautiful time they ever "made love".

Fourth year when she curled up in his arms, he having finally just found out about the abuse her parents handed out to her, in particular her father.

Fifth year, when she had stayed by his side all night - much to Madame Pomfrey's displeasure - when Rod had had a nasty fall from his broom whilst playing Quidditch and been rendered unconscious for 26 hours.

Sixth year when they had been sat by the lake, Rodolphus, in what Bellatrix had thought of as a joke at the time, had promised to marry her one day and make her Bellatrix Black Lestrange...
How beautiful that had sounded to her back then...

Seventh year when they had spent their final day at school curled up in Rodolphus' bed in his dorm, having kicked the rest of the boys out of his room, spending the whole day talking and making love . . . and that particular moment on the train home the next day when he had proposed to her; apparently he'd asked her father weeks beforehand and had been working up the courage to ask her . . .

And, of course, their wedding day. The only day in her life where Bellatrix had felt the centre of attention, nothing could go wrong, she was going to be happy for the rest of her life. No more father, no more rape, no more beatings, no more hiding scars and bruises and the misery that haunted her childhood... How wrong could she be?

This wasn't the first time Rodolphus had beaten his wife. After a few weeks Bellatrix had 'tried his patience' too much. Apparently behaviour that Bellatrix had shown with pride before their marriage was no longer acceptable now she was 'his'. She had to do everything her husband asked, apparently it was her 'duty as his wife', she could never show him up or be better than him in public, that was unheard of. But this was not Bellatrix Black, nor was it Bellatrix Lestrange.

Of course it was not like this all of the time, Rod and Bella were still very much in love, but Rod still had a view of the perfect pureblood wife and Bella was definitely not it and unwilling to change into what had once described as 'Mindless idiots who have nothing better
to do than kiss their husbands arses and obey their every stupid whim no matter how fucked up and against their morals it may be.'

But it was for this that Bellatrix payed dearly for. That and the obvious taunting matter that she couldn't produce a son for her husband. No matter how much she had tried, no matter what Bellatrix did she could not give her husband the son he so desperately desired. That was the one thing Bellatrix had wanted to do as a 'pure-blooded wife'; produce a son. The one thing she would submit to.

Because that was what she had wanted more than anything else in the world until that one terrible day she had gone to St. Mungo's and her dream had been shattered into a million tiny pieces... and it was that memory that Bellatrix played through her mind as a particularly harsh blow to her head with her husband's boot knocked her under into the blankness of her mind.

Every review you get I put Bella through a little less misery in my fics . . . or do I? Review and find out! lmao
*Wonders who will spot what celebrity WHO I MET SATURDAY NIGHT :D:D:D influenced a name for this fic* x]
Thanks for reading!

xxx