The Madness of Bellatrix Lestrange

Red Death

"Stop rubbing it Roddy"
"But Belle, it's so... Adorable"
"Rod. It's not. It's cumbersome and uncomfortable and -"
"And our baby, Belle." He said first placing a soft kiss on my lips and an even more delicate one upon the slight swell of my belly.

Rodolphus had gotten his wish, I was pregnant with his child. A few months had passed since I'd taken the mark. The leaves had fallen from the trees as the summer breezes cooled to a fall wind knocking all life from the branches, freezing the ground, preparing the world for the cold death of winter.

But in me a new life grew and flourished . I was three months at this point as the November air frosted the ground. My belly, while not nearly big as my exaggerative whines and complaints made it seem had puffed enough to be noticed by those who knew me best.

Our Lord was a mix of glee for new pureblood life and frustration at my training being stopped. Flashes of jealous struck his face when he'd see Rodolphus beside me at meetings, the ever attentive doting husband.

Did our Lord love me- no certainly not. I knew, even in my deepest madness, even in the throes of unmitigated obsession I knew that he was void of love- but one did not have to have love to feel jealousy over a possession.

Possession was what I was and our private training sessions gave me to him - all to him. He trained me well. I was amongst the top skilled already , among those battle hardened warriors that came before. Me, just a young girl just two years now from Hogwarts. He trained me hard, relentlessly.

He swore it was for my protection. That he couldn't bare to see me fall in battle. I believed him. I still do, but I know that wasn't the only reason. He was unreasonably harsh on me. His bitterness manifested in each hex sent my way. Training me to endure cruciatus constantly, even after I ceased to shed a tear, even after I showed less effect than anyone amongst our ranks. There was an underlying anger in his training of me, not at me but because of me. I was something he couldn't fully possess.

He could take what he wanted, and he did. After every session, he'd lower his wand, come to me , regret and near tenderness in his eyes , pick me up from where my body lay still reeling with pain or the effects of whatever curse he'd last hurtled my way and kiss lightly my lips. His hands would explore my body with wonder while I was too weak to protest and by the time the effects of the curses had worn off I was too in the throes of passion to want him to stop.

He was an expert in inspiring devotion in me. That mix of pleasure and fear, pain wreaking it's mad havoc on my mind , hurtling me further into darkness, confusion and anger. Into blind devotion, obsession for me.

Id long stopped pretending I didn't feel for him. The only barrier now was my love for my husband.

Rodolphus.

The name would run through my mind each moment I writhed under my Lord. Lacing guilt through my thoughts, even in my pleasure filled gasps and moans. Rodolphus. My husband. The man who won my heart already from another man- not by trickery or brain washing or near force like our Lord , but by the small glances I'd catch from the corner of my eyes that shined with adoration. The sweet words whispered in smooth French against my ear like an ocean breeze taking me everytime back to our honeymoon. And now even deeper so with the soft caresses over a slight bump in my body and soft whispers to the life inside. His baby.

His.

That thought kept me up late at night. What if the child filling me now was not my husband's. He, we didn't know, but it only seemed fitting our first perfect pureblood baby should be a he, an heir to the prestigious Lestrange line, what if he was not Lestrange but Riddle. I wasn't fool enough to think it not possible. Lack of love doesn't mean lack of ability to spawn progeny. And what of a child borne of one borne of love potion. Could they love? Were they just as cursed with a hollowed out loveless soul? I shuddered many nights at the thoughts.