Lazily, Voldemort observed the girl sneaking through his chamber. It was unusual for Bella to wake before him, and even more unusual for her to leave without saying so much as a word to him. She obviously thought him still asleep and did not want to wake him. She seemed to not even want to look at him.

Curious.

He watched her as she collected her clothes from the ground, eyeing them with apparent hesitation. He could almost feel the irritation radiating off her, before she slipped into her nightgown and tiptoed over to the door. For a brief moment she hesitated and actually looked back to him, but still, she did not wake him. Instead, she noiselessly opened the door and slipped out.

Voldemort sat up in his bed and stared to the door. What would make Bellatrix of all people escape in such a manner? She was always so enthusiastic about sharing the bed with him, even when she so obviously did not enjoy the act itself. For all the pain she loved to inflict on others, she very much hated feeling any herself.

Still, she never denied him, always pretending like she enjoyed his rough treatment. Even tonight, when he bound her arms and pushed her face first onto the hard and cold stone floor, she never protested. On the contrary, she told him to use her, to take her, even when her body flinched with every bit of pain, even when the cries that fell from her lips spoke of nothing but hurt and panic.

It didn't matter how harshly he treated her, she would always come back to him, a seductive smile on her lips. She was just 21 years old, just a girl, but she always sought him out.

Why, then, would she flee now? It didn't make sense. Voldemort knew all too well that this ambitious young witch wanted nothing more than to be a partner at his side. She was destined to marry into the Lestrange family, even though both sons were too stupid to be of any value. He knew she hoped that he would save her from that fate, that he would marry her instead.

A ridiculous notion.

He couldn't deny that he enjoyed her submission though. To see such a proud, cruel woman go down on her knees for him was a rush he never failed to relish in ever since she first presented herself to him two years ago. He pushed her further and further, expecting her to stop him, to deny him, to fight against him. Yet she never did. He could do anything to her and she would still proclaim her undying love and loyalty.

It was amusing, though he had started to get bored of it recently. Maybe she had noticed that and decided to switch up her game. Whatever it was, he would not make it easier for her. She would still go on to marry Rodolphus in a couple of months, and he would continue to fuck her even after that.

He half expected her to ignore him this evening, but when the usual knock didn't come, he was still surprised. Ever since he took up residence at Grimmauld Place with the Black family, Bellatrix would try her luck every night without fail.

Something was definitely up.

It should be beneath him to seek out his personal whore, but he had to admit, he was amused by this new game. Ever since he declared himself the Dark Lord about a year ago and started the war to conquer all of England, things had gone too smoothly, too much like he predicted. This little wrinkle was the first thing in months that was out of the ordinary.

Clad in nothing but his black silken robe, he exited his room and made his way down the corridor. The house was silent, as most residents were already asleep. He stopped in front of Bella's door and listened.

He could hear footsteps from within, as though someone was pacing up and down the carpet. Every now and then he thought he could hear frustrated groans, but he was not sure. Curious. Bellatrix was either quiet as a viper, or loud as a cat in heat. This restrained noise was not like her.

Grinning to himself, he imitated her signature knock: one long, two short, followed by another long one.

"What?" Her voice sounded equally annoyed and scared from within.

Without waiting further, he opened the door and stepped inside, quickly closing it again behind him. There was his Bellatrix, wrapped into the most sensible black robes he had ever seen her in, staring up at him as though she never expected her nighttime visitor to be the Dark Lord. Curious again.

She blinked, then blushed and averted her eyes. "My lord. What brings you to my room?"

He only raised an eyebrow. That was an outrageously stupid question for her to ask and she knew it.

"I'm sorry, my lord, I'm sorry! I didn't mean–of course I know why you are here. I apologise for being so rude."

She still didn't look him in the eye. Chewing on her bottom lip, gaze glued to the floor, her hands clasped together in a tight grip – this was not the confidently seductive woman her knew. Voldemort stepped closer to her.

"I expected you tonight."

For less than a heartbeat, her eyes flicked up to him, but then she looked away again. "I didn't think … what I mean to say is, you usually don't like me bothering you every night. So I thought I should stay away today."

He scoffed. Of course, he'd send her away more often than not when she knocked, but that had never prevented her from trying every single night so far. "Presumptuous of you, my dear. I decide when I want you. It is not up to you to deny me. Is that clear?"

He could see that she was trembling now. He half expected her to throw herself at his feet, but still, she remained in the same position, eyes averted, not moving an inch. "I apologise again, my lord. I realise that I have upset you. If that means you are no longer interested, I would understand."

His hand grabbed her by the throat before she could say another word. He pulled her closer, forcing her to finally look up to him. He could read the fear in her eyes. Fear and something else that he could not immediately place. Something he had never before seen in Bellatrix.

Shame. Guilt.

He could feel the smouldering embers of his ever-present rage burst into flames. She was keeping something from him, lying to him. And he would not stand for that. His other hand forcefully grabbed her wild hair and pulled hard.

This always made Bella wince and put her in a submissive mood. She would do anything to avoid more pain, even tell him secrets she would rather keep to herself. Anything to please him without experiencing what she so loved to inflict on others.

But nothing of the sort happened. Instead, her blush deepened and he could see her suddenly stare up at him defiantly. She still trembled under his fingers, but he was sure it was not from pain.

For a moment he was tempted to slip into her mind. With both hands on her, eyes only inches away from each other, he might be able to do so. It was the one thing he admired most in Bellatrix Black: She was the only one capable of even remotely resisting his attempts at Legilimency. More often than not, he gave himself a headache breaking through her defences, so he usually just forced her to tell him whatever he wanted to know.

He brought his face even closer to hers, feeling her hot breath on his cheeks as it came in quick, short puffs. Her pupils were blown wide, her eyes almost black as she still wore a slight frown. Whatever this mixture of defiance and shame was, he would get it out of her, one way or another.

"Now, Bella, I know you've been naughty," he whispered, watching with fascination as she swallowed hard. "Tell me what you're hiding and maybe I will be gentle with you today."

Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips in an anxious movement he had never seen from her before. "I'm not hiding anything from you, my lord. I would never hide anything from you. There is no need for any of this. I just wanted to be thoughtful."

Voldemort let go of her hair and pushed her backwards, watching with amusement as she stumbled onto her own bed, coughing while rubbing her throat. And yet, her eyes never left him. As if she had suddenly decided that it was better to look at him instead of casting her gaze ever downwards.

Strange. Curious. Bellatrix was in a mood he had never experienced before.

He followed her onto the bed, pushing her further up until he could crawl over her, trapping her under his body. For a short moment it looked like she wanted to flee from him, but then that defiance returned to her eyes and she instead looked up at him as if challenging him.

"You know I don't like it when you lie to me, darling." His gaze travelled over her body, still covered in this heavy material that hid everything from him. "So let's try this again, mh? You know I don't want to hurt you."

She swallowed again and Voldemort couldn't help himself, his eyes followed the movement with an excitement he didn't know he still possessed for this woman. Her throat positively screamed for the rough grip of his fingers.

"Okay, alright," Bella suddenly cried out, "I'll admit it. I'm still sore from last night and wanted to rest today."

He froze. There was no chance that the Bellatrix Black he knew would ever say something like this. She might have been acting strange before, but this was so clearly against everything he knew her to be, that only one clear answer was left. This was not Bellatrix Black.

But whoever this was, they obviously did not want to get caught, while also trying to avoid him. He allowed a grin to fall across his lips. He had all night to find out who this was. If this wasn't Bella, he could easily slip into their mind and just get the information he wanted. But there was no fun in that. He would save that for later.

Right now, he would show this person what a very bad idea it was to mess with the Dark Lord.