Something was wrong. It was not so much her desires that bothered me, but the fact that she did not deign to share them with me through voluntary methods. Face to face with my lover, I reached back and tugged on the long, black hair I'd always adored, pulling downwards until I could see the tears well up in her eyes.

"What is it I cannot give you?" I knew what it was. I always knew, but this time I wanted to hear the words from her.

Her response reminded me of why I'd always felt such an attachment to the woman, when my parents had taught me well that attachments were things to be avoided at all costs. My fingers knotted in her mane, my hands unwavering, she pushed herself towards me. Her eyes became wetter and more glossy and she silently pressed her lips to mine.

And yet despite the more positive physical reaction to her kiss, it did nothing to sate my anger towards her. As if I were beholden to my urges and she were the only one who could satiate me. How simplistic a worldview she must have. I bit down on her tongue, savoring the taste of her blood in my mouth, feeling her tense up against me in arousal before I shoved her away from me.

She flew into the wall behind her, loosening the mirror from its surroundings and causing the floor around to her to fill with shattered glass. Her back to the wall, her dress disheveled, I glared down at her.

"You know what it is, my Lord," she said, her eyes near tears but her voice steady.

I crossed the room and bore my eyes into the top of her head, my boots crushing tiny shards of glass beneath them. "There is nothing I can do to make you hate me, then?" I asked. Funny, after all the pain I'd caused her, all the times I'd watched her writhe on the floor, begging for more, then begging me to stop, that she could not summon the hatred that aroused her so. I resisted the temptation to cast my wand at her; I resisted the temptation to throw the sharp pieces of glass into her eyes.

Did I even want her hate? I doubted that, yet still there lurked this sense of desire. This feeling that there was something in her world which I could not do. I could not be her enemy.

I knew this woman. She had spent fourteen years having her life sucked away from her, all because she would not betray me. Perhaps there were actions in my repertoire that could summon the hatred she so desired, but at what cost must I squelch those yearnings out of her mind? No, a loyal and satisfying servant was far too great a cost to pay.

Drawing forth an expression somehow reminiscent of affection, I leaned down towards her. She drew her mouth towards my ear and whispered a name. My course determined, I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back up towards me. Looking into her eyes, I saw what even she did not know. I looked down at her and shook my head once, firmly.

"Give me your arm." She complied and I pulled her arm towards me. Placing my wand at the faint markings, I dug the tip inwards. She threw back her head, exposing her pale, pristine neck to me as she screamed from the pain. I'd never claimed that my service was a painless enterprise, after all.

With a pop, Lucius apparated into the room. Though his ice gray eyes betrayed nothing, I knew he was somewhat aghast at his surroundings. Mostly, though, he was annoyed that I'd broken his mirror. With a wave of my wand, the glass shards flew off of Bellatrix's robes and the mirror restored itself on the wall.

"Satisfied then, Lucius?" He lowered his eyes and nodded. "Bring me the young mudblood auror."

"Certainly, my Lord." Another pop and he was gone.

"The young Mudblood Auror…" Bellatrix let the words play around in her mouth. If they were not what she wanted, it was only because she did not realize the true nature of her love and her hatred.

I looked at her and nodded. This would do. This would do nicely. Perhaps the venom felt for her young niece was not as thorough as that for her estranged sister, but it could be far better manipulated for my own needs in time. Daring to get involved in the deeper emotions could only lead me down a dangerous path.

Bella, meanwhile, had decided to position herself seductively on the bed. I suppose she felt the need to thank me. As if my favors were done out of love for her. I let my red eyes stare menacingly into her black ones, and with a flick of my wand watched her scream in pain. She liked pain, I knew that well enough, but nobody could ever bring themselves to like this pain. Even as she tried to place her hands, stinging in agony as they were, between her legs to demonstrate her arousal, I knew that it was all a show. She only wished she were that twisted.

"You like that, Bella?" I asked casually.

Her answer was a scream. I relaxed my wand, letting her return to her seductively intentioned position.

"Thank you, master," she whispered. Someday, perhaps, I would let on that I knew.

Another crack, and Lucius returned, one arm around the chest of an attractive young woman with hideously bright hair, the other placing the tip of his wand against her head.

"As you desire, Lord Voldemort."

At the sight of me, the little mudblood screamed. Bella, meanwhile, laughed haughtily.

"Hello, Nymphadora," Bellatrix said. "You've grown into a lovely young woman."

The girl continued her struggle against Lucius. Knowing Malfoy, I was quite sure that despite his appearing to contain her with one arm and the threat of his wand, he likely had cast a spell or two making her escape quite difficult. Without her knowledge of those spells, of course.

"She's all yours, Bella, dear. Finite Incantum. Lucius, you may take your leave." The spells released and Malfoy left by the door this time, closing and locking it behind him.

At wand point I directed the mudblood to Bella's bed.

"Show me my sister, blood traitor that she is."

Suddenly the young pink-haired woman was a tall brunette. I recognized her vaguely, from back when my Bella was a girl. Her red-brown hair flowed in waves down to the middle of her back and wore an expression of fear and disgust on her face.

"Manere aspectamen." A look of shock registered on the woman's face. A little known spell, a difficult one, and a personal favorite. A shame there were so few occasions to cast it.

"Andromeda." Bellatrix spoke each syllable as if it were a vile curse word, looking up and down the locked-within-herself image of her sister. A twisted, giddy smile rose on her face. "The traitor and the mudblood. You know, I should have killed you when you were just my baby sister. Would have been so much easier back then. And you would never had had a chance to bring such shame onto the name of our family." With that, she reached up and slapped her sister's image across the face. She brought her hand up against her again, bringing small droplets of blood to the woman's face. I watched as Bella threw herself forward, and let the tip of her tongue savor each tiny red marking.

A part of me wished I could bring that kind of hatred and lust forward in my lover. Another part of me assumed I soon would.

With a fury only she possessed, Bellatrix tore open the robes of her niece/sister. I began to watch as her teeth sank onto the soft pink circles, likely drawing blood once again. The woman really did have a bit of an obsession there. Her fingernails clawed into the other woman's flawless shoulders, again drawing small rivulets as she leaned over to savor them.

With practiced yet thoroughly unappreciated agility, Bella, button by button, fold by fold, removed her own robes. Throwing them viciously to the floor, she thrusted herself forward towards her sister's body. I smiled as I watched Bellatrix's black hair flowing outwards from between the other woman's legs. A few moments and the mudblood began to scream in a way only Cruciatus and the flickering of a carefully placed tongue can produce.

The mudblood's shrieks only lasted a few seconds, as Bellatrix had the auburn-haired woman at wandpoint. For a woman with such a tenuous grip on her sanity, Bellatrix was quite versed in her own desires. I could not help but feel my own arousal as my lover directed the fingers and mouth of the other woman.

Bella had always been more of a moaner than a screamer, the low primal sounds originating deep in her throat and slowly making their way out of her mouth. Bella's eyes caught mine then drifted away. I turned and made note of the fact that she was transfixed on the repaired mirror, watching her own face contort with pleasure.

Letting go of her wand, she pushed the red-brown head of hair downwards and towards her. Her fingers tightly wrapped around her partner, she exercised complete control even as her head threw itself back in ecstasy.

The mudblood seemed to fulfill all expectations as Bella's moans became lower and deeper until they dissolved altogether into throaty, labored breaths. Bellatrix was spent- laying on her back, her eyes barely opened, head towards the ceiling; I was quite tired of watching my lover get her pleasure elsewhere; and the elsewhere, the mudblood as blood-traitor, was huddled in the corner, crying.

"Thank you, my Lord," said Bellatrix, her voice breathy. "Thank you."

I looked at her, her nude body spread out on my bed sheets. Raising my wand, I pointed in towards the far corner of the room.

"Avada Kedavra."

The mudblood did not scream. She was long dead before she even noticed the green light heading towards her, so occupied was she with her own disgust and self pity. Bella, meanwhile, let out a low and throaty groan, which grew into a high pitched scream of no.

I laughed, the high cadences echoing throughout the room.

"You hate me now, Bellatrix, do you not?"

Her eyes opened a bit wider, taking in my face as she listened to my condescending tones. Her mouth curled into a seductive smile as she nodded.

End.