Bad Romance

Chapter 71

Chapter 71: The Screams All Sound the Same

She was so cold. So desolate and alone and cold. It was far too quiet both inside and out. Then it just exploded out of her. The scream! Then after that one there was another and another and another. The act of releasing the building madness born of silent despair made her heady. She was alive again even as she became lost in the screams that tore from her. They were expressive of her despair and misery and emptiness. They were expressive of her fears. Fears of never seeing anyone ever again, of growing old in this place, her beauty slipping away until she was an old hunched crone and then finally died.

"Bella! You've got to be quiet or it will get their attention. They'll come over here and you know we don't want that. Talk to me, babe. Come on!" The insistent pleading voice came from Rod. He was in the cell directly to her left. The final scream became a sob on which she choked as Bellatrix fell to her knees, hands pressing flat onto the ground as her head dropped, wild black curls falling over her face. The curtain her hair provided served to shelter her in darkness, allowing her not to see her bleak surroundings at least for a moment.

"Alright," she acquiesced, resigned once again to this fate, at least until the next time the inner pressure became too great and she began to scream again.

"Talk to me," Rod insisted.

"I love you, Roddy." That was it. At times her love for him, for the life they'd once had and the life they still very much wanted, was all that held her together.

"You too, babe. Always."

In that moment, she wanted him to hold her in his arms more than anything else. That wasn't going to happen though, and she sobbed. That was alright as long as she wasn't screaming, though, because the Dementors only fed on joy, not misery.

Misery didn't taste good so they didn't care about it. Misery was a bitter draft and anyone who wanted to survive in Azkaban drank it daily, in part to keep themselves alive and unkissed by the foul fiends. It wasn't difficult thinking of things to inspire misery, though. Not when it was doubtful that they'd ever see freedom again. The thought was too much and she gave another low cry of despair.

It was then that she felt his arms come around her, drawing her hard against the warmth of his chest. How could he touch her when they were separated by the stupid cell wall, though?

"Come on, Bella, babe, wake up. Wake up!" Rodolphus shook her gently as he held her close. He smelled of soap and his hands were warm as they rubbed her back.

"Roddy," she gasped, suddenly feeling as though she was coming up from under water where she may have been drowning.

"That's right...I'm here," he replied and she clung to him for several wordless seconds before kissing him hard. He was quick to respond and soon he was deep inside of her as they busily reaffirmed their freedom.

There were never conjugal visits in Azkaban, after all. Pleasure shot through Bellatrix with every thrust of Rod's generous erection and her nails raked his back in encouragement. He filled her, his weight crushing her into the mattress as they strained toward completion together.

Only afterward, when she lay curled in Rodolphus's comforting embrace, did her mind stray back to her Azkaban nightmare. She must be more concerned than she'd initially thought over the killing of those fifty wizards in America.

"If they lock us up for killing that lot I swear I shall make someone suffer," she vowed, conveniently overlooking the fact that when locked away in Azkaban, no one could make anyone pay for anything ever again.

"You are concerned about that," Rodolphus asked, tone sleepily incredulous. "We were acting under orders, and I doubt Grindelwald, Valdez, or the Minister herself are trying to put themselves in Azkaban so we're safe. Besides...what sort of people do you believe those were, anyway?"