Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Wave of Mutilation	By : SalonKitty Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 19382 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Wave of Mutilation
- 1
Summary: Bellatrix gets the Golden Ticket courtesy of her Master and Lord. Ickle Harry is in for quite a ride.

Prompt: This was written for the HP_Darkfic Fest in November 2010

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: ~10,000

Warnings: graphic sexuality, bloodletting, mentions of past sexual abuse/incest, non-con

Author's Notes: Thank you Pixies for the title.
Wave of Mutilation

Exhilaration flooded her. It bubbled under her skin in a bid to break free into matter of the purest form: protons and electrons and the swirling energy of her magical core ready to explode into shards of the brightest light.
The little brat was finally in their clutches, caught by his own stupidity, and the Dark Lord wasn’t about to allow for any muck ups this time. Potter and his loathsome friends were screwed; there would be no escape.
As a first measure, the Dark Lord had made sure Potter wasn’t merely secured—he’d been lassoed to the point of absurdity. Several nooses were roped around his neck, the tethers rigged to the columns sprouting from floor to ceiling in the downstairs ballroom. The fool had been brought to Malfoy Manor with a gang of Snatchers, and even though that filthy Mudblood had attempted to disguise him, the boy’s temper had given him away. Bellatrix smirked; delighted at the spectacle of her Master’s bane wriggling futilely in his binds. They would have some fun with this one, surely.

Potter’s head looked like the hub of a wagon wheel, the spokes being the ropes branching from his neck, at least six of them holding him in place. Or perhaps he was the sun itself, rough hewn rays of the aura beaming from his mortified face and ensnaring him to their party of witnesses as he waited to be judged. Bella giggled to herself—he certainly did give off his own glow, his rage practically tangible as he hissed and spit at them. Wrists had been bound together behind the small of his back while his hands scratched and clawed at nothing but air. As he struggled, the boy would occasionally slip and hang by his throat for a few, panicked seconds before he found his footing again. His choking and groans of frustration were amusing to listen to, but scanning her Lord’s face it was evident the great man was not finding the humour in this turn of events. Those burning, red eyes studied Potter as if he were trying to absorb the child right through his retinas. A thrill ran through Bella’s centre to see him like this—so powerful and impenetrable—and she bounced on the tips of her boots like a giddy schoolgirl. She couldn't care less about Potter, but seeing the Chosen One have such an effect on her Master was fueling her excitement to dizzying levels. The soft thudding between her legs that began as soon as the Dark Lord had given the command to restrain the boy (and so creatively!) had swelled to a pounding inside of her. Bella glanced hungrily to Rodolphus, who was circling the brat like he was preparing to feast on the most succulent meal, yet it was not her husband who drove her desire. Rodolphus was simply a partner in her depravity, and they worked together well, as many of those they’d tortured in the past would attest.
No, it was the power emanating from her Master that sparked the heat coursing through her, and as she looked over the trapped child fighting his inevitable fate, her desire coloured the boy, too. She would show her Lord; show him that she was worthy, that she could reduce this half-blood wastrel to a pile of smoldering ash. Bella trembled slightly as she watched the man lift up Potter’s chin with the tip of his wand. The two stared at each other in a silent showdown for what felt like ages before Potter cursed angrily and tried to wrench his head away.
“Leave him alone! Don’t you dare hurt Harry!”
Bella sneered. The Mudblood’s protests were growing tiresome. Her clamorous demands had been escalating in volume ever since she’d recovered from the curses Bella had thrown at her upstairs. It had been satisfying to hear the bitch scream while the Cruciatus was in full effect, but now the girl was just annoying. Bella swung her head to the pair of them, strung up together in a net as they hung from the ceiling like cocooned bait for an Acromantula. The slag wouldn’t stay still, her squirms against the ginger looking more desperate with every cry as her ridiculous hair whipped into his face. As for the blood traitor, he just glared at Bella murderously, causing her grin to spread wider at the empty threat. These children were about to get a taste of what real power looked like, the ancient magic of her lord a lesson they all needed to learn. She just hoped he wouldn’t dispatch them too quickly. Her imagination was lit up at the thought of the many nasty spells they could test on their captives. After all, there had been too many disappointments recently, and she was sick of the stink of failure. It was time for Bella to play.
The Dark Lord bared his teeth with eyes closed. “Potter,” he breathed, “you’ll want to shut that harpy up before I slice her in two.” His voice was deadly and flat—another shiver ran over Bella and she fluttered her hands against her cheeks, erupting into more giggles. But then her lord’s eyes flashed open, a sinister smile gracing his distorted features. “Or should I find a better use for her?” he gloated with raised eyebrows. “My Death Eaters have been working quite hard, they deserve some recreation. Perhaps your little Mudblood will provide the proper distraction?”
Potter froze, his expression turned to horror. “What are you…don’t….please,” his eyes grew larger as his attitude switched to pleading, “just leave them out of it. You have me. They’re nothing to do with this.”
“Wrong! Do you take me for a fool, boy? Do you think that I’m not aware of how you’ve managed to last as long as you have? Your whole existence is based on protection; everyone you surround yourself with keeps you from me. But that is no more, Potter. Your friends cannot help you, now. However, what they are suitable for is insurance.” He swung his wand away from Potter and aimed it to the suspended collateral. “You’re going to do what I say or you’re going to be forced to watch them go through some very….unpleasant….things.” His gaze was steady on the brat’s face and Bella’s excitement spilled over.
“Let me, my Lord!” she cried in exultant peals. “I can torture them both at once. The boy will give up any secrets he’s got by the time I’m done.” She whipped her head in the direction of their star prisoner. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer I use my talents on the brat. Whatever you wish, my Lord, I’m up to the task.”
Those crimson-seared eyes fell on her. “My dear Bella, contain your enthusiasm for a moment. I can extract whatever information from Potter’s feeble brain I so choose whenever I desire—I am a master Legilimens, after all. I…have my reasons for going about this in another way. Do not worry, Bella, I have plans for you to assist.”
She beamed at him, her face hurting from grinning so hard, while chuckles came deep from within her chest. Her Master turned his attention back to the boy.
“Should I let down the girl, Potter? We’ll see how much more of the Cruciatus she can endure before she’s convulsing her innards down her front. It will be solely up to you to keep my Death Eaters from taking it too far. Her punishment will be tantamount to the cooperation we receive from you.”
“No!! Please, I’m begging you! I’ll cooperate, I promise, just don’t touch her!”
Long, twig-like fingers pinched Potter’s chin again, dragging the boy’s face upward. Her lord stared balefully down at him for a moment before his lip curled into a bemused smirk. “Such devotion to a Mudblood whore—tell me, child; how long have you been fucking her?”
Potter attempted to jerk his head away again with a grimace, but her Master wouldn’t let him go, his grip on the boy’s chin slipping down to clasp around the coiled throat. “Well? I asked you a question,” he growled.
“You’re disgusting, you evil bastard! Hermione is my friend. Don’t twist it into something lewd.”
“Ah, so you’re a virgin, then, child? Or is there another? Perhaps you fancy the boy? Remember, Potter; cooperate and you might spare their lives.”
“No! There’s no one! It’s not like that!”
Bella suddenly realized where her Master’s interrogation was going and her glee spiked so sharply that her involuntary jumping and clapping surprised even her. “We get to play with a vir-gin, we get to play with an ickle, baby vir-gin,” she sang in a breathy, girlish voice. A hand curved around her side to lay flat to her belly, stilling her briefly. She turned her head to look back into Rodolphus’s face, seeing his brow arched in warning. He had a way of calming her down when she got too excitable, but this time she pushed him away, her expression downright predatory as she watched Potter turn flustered and scared, just the way she liked him. Her glances darted around the room, noticing how the crowd of them—her Master’s most faithful called upon to appear right after he’d come back to discover Potter’s capture—were suddenly more animated, a charge sweeping through them while leers and hooded eyes laid upon the three teenagers. Some sat in chairs and settees, clustered together like a jury’s bench, while others stood around the lassoed boy tensed and waiting for direction. MacNair looked ready to jump on the brat, smacking his lips in anticipation almost as wolfishly as the beast, Greyback, who stood close by.
“Oh, all in good time, Bella, settle down. We have to make sure, first, don’t we? Potter has just revealed to us a gift, although he has the barest inkling as to just how great the cost may be. But the bigger question is...whom might I choose as the recipient of this gift?” Her Master looked around the room pointedly at his followers. “I confess that I’ve been…sorely disillusioned with most of you these past months. It’s been one blunder after another before I finally took matters into my own hands. This child and his companions have managed to best even my most favoured.” Bella’s breath caught for a moment, but her Master glared instead at that mincing snake-in-the-grass, Lucius Malfoy.
“But this court is hardly based on a meritocracy. Nor is it simply about successes. I would even venture to say…unwavering loyalty counts for more than mere deeds.” This time, his gaze fell on her with an intensity that burned right through her. Her breasts ached, feeling swollen and hard, while her nipples were steel points.
A shout came from above. The little bitch was making her presence known again. “What are you going to do to him, you warped monsters? He’s not a bloody prize, he’s a human being!” But in an interesting turn, it was the two boys that jumped to quiet her; the redhead actually pressing a hand across her mouth as he wrapped his body around hers, while Potter flat out demanded she shut up.
Then her Master’s voice was hissing through the hall, his incantation in Parseltongue lost on Bella and the rest. There was a hush amongst the assembly, even the Mudblood was mute, and she watched the frightened face of the girl grow more alarmed as a bright light suddenly filled the room. Bella turned to see the boy literally glow for a moment; a white hot flame enveloping him from his feet to the top of his head before it was extinguished a second later. All that remained was an incandescent snowball hovering over that jet black mop of hair, the messiest and longest she’d ever seen on him, but he appeared unharmed by the charm, blinking back at them in his consternation. She was intrigued by the sphere and drew closer to him, her hand curling around the rope tied to the column next her and sliding its way across to Potter’s neck. More excitement thrummed throughout Bella, traveling along her spine like mice on a vine, and prompting her to reach out the tips of her fingers to brush the boy’s face. His head twisted around to face hers and before she could determine his next move, Potter made a hawking noise in his throat followed by a splat of warm saliva dribbling down her cheek. Reacting without thought, Bella’s fingers turned into claws and she scratched viciously at the brat’s face, red blooming instantly into the sliced skin.
“Keep that bitch away from me!” Potter snarled with eyes shut tight. Hollow chuckles trickled out of her again while amused titters ran through the group.
“Now, Harry,” the Dark Lord began, making t’sking sounds with a slight shake of his head. “That isn’t a very respectful way to treat your betters, is it? Especially to the woman with whom you’re about to have your first intimate encounter, wouldn’t you agree? I should think it wise you apologize to her immediately, or...” and he turned to direct his wand to the dangling pair above the guests, “should I bring down one of your friends and let them—”
“NO! I—I’m sorry,” he beseeched the Dark Lord before turning to gape at her, blood now trickling down past his jaw to pool into the cords at his neck. “I—I didn’t mean to…please.”
But Bella was already seized by the thrill of her Master’s news. She would be bestowed the honour of defiling the boy’s purity. This was proof that she had returned to the coveted role of his favourite, most cherished disciple. Her grin probably looked manic, but she couldn’t hold back her all-consuming pleasure.
“She—she won’t be. My…first. I—I’m not…”
“Do not even attempt the lie, Potter. The spell has already identified your status; we can see it above your head. Your magic is untouched by carnal awakening, this is very clear. I daresay; you seem innocent of even the most basic experimentation, I see no tenebrous spots of lust in your magical aura. This makes you a very potent charm, my boy. Old magic desires the pure for many things, but there are rituals that have long been forgotten which harness that power to enhance an older wizard’s spells…through transference.”
Bella was awed by the very idea and dropped to her knees before her Master in complete subservience. “My lord, I know I have made some mistakes and met with failure. I am not worthy of such a grand gesture, but you honour me all the same. I am humbled by your munificence.” She bowed her head low, her forehead almost touching the floor.
“Yes, yes, of course, and you will do well to remember this privilege. Get up, now. This is not a reward, Bella, this is a test. I am expecting greatness from you with this extra surge of power. Potter’s magic is…different. I have felt it. The outcome of this entire evening will be of significant interest to me.”
“I will not let you down, my Lord. You have my word!” Bella grabbed the hem of her Master’s robes and clutched it to her chest with her passionate declaration.
“Please forgive my obtuseness, my Lord, but what does this mean, exactly?” The silky voice came from her right. Bella’s eyes became slits as she glared at Malfoy, so richly deserving of his fall from grace. He was looking quite haggard these days, but it gave her no satisfaction at this moment. He was, and always would be, a threat to her standing. “Are you suggesting that Bella will actually be able to siphon Potter’s magic, his very essence, and fold it into her own?” The prat looked more disbelieving than jealous, Bella had to concede, but it was still an affront to have him cast any doubt on her Master’s gift.
“Yes, that is precisely what the ritual should do, Lucius. This will be a useful tool to use on the Mudblood and half-blood children if it is successful, the better to take back what is rightfully ours. It has not been practiced in centuries, however, so this experiment will provide crucial information.” The Dark Lord looked ready to say more but paused in light of the sputtering coming from the boy.
“What—how—what are you even saying? You can’t—my magic? To her? You can’t be serious!” The brat’s horrified expression was priceless. Bella suddenly felt ravenous, wanting to devour him in every way conceivable. He was meant for sacrifice, after all. And Bella wanted to be the one to obliterate him in service to her Lord.
The Dark Lord’s smile was wickedly cruel. “Oh, I am quite serious, child. Who knows, you might even find some enjoyment in it. Part of the ritual requires that you…come to a release. But first, certain details must be attended to, Potter. There are tributaries to be made, offerings of blood. Sex magic is one of the most potent forms of conjuring. We will need to pay special attention to the wording of the spell to ensure the proper results. If you are to lose your virginity, your sexual ‘purity’, then I should think we need to cover all that that might entail.” A murmuring broke out as heads swiveled about and the energy in the room converged into a rising pitch. A shrill cackling came from that hag, Alecto, but then Potter was back to his shouting.
“Enjoy? You’re all mad! As if I could ever like being…being…sucked dry by that…that…murderer!”
“Funny you should mention sucking, Harry,” Bella noted gleefully. She realized she’d gotten on all fours at some point and was now creeping toward the boy instinctively, her skin tight over her cheeks from the constant grinning. She imagined her face to be ecstatic, but Potter reared back from her as she grabbed hold of his ankle, his features twisted into abject terror. She took hold of his other leg by the shin and squeezed tightly—she was quite a strong woman—and pulled herself up straight as she remained kneeled in front of the boy, his belly at her eye-level. Glancing down at the zippered crotch in her view, she automatically bent her head to mouth the flap covering the metal teeth before the hand coming to rest on her crown stopped her.
“Now, Bella, patience,” his voice scolded gently, long fingers twining into her hair. Bella was ready to purr for her Master as she leaned back against him. “You’ll need a partner. Our dear Harry, pure as the driven snow this one; he’ll need a crash course in the erotic arts. He’ll have to be taken from both sides for this to be completely effective. This involves penetration, of course, so a man would be ideal. The choice is yours, my dear.” There were more thick gagging noises coming from the boy. Bella stifled her giggles; Potter did sound rather bent out of shape.
But she was further awed by her Master’s trust in her. Surely her eyes were like diamonds in their brightness, tears brimming from her joy. She couldn’t speak, but simply stretched a hand up to Rodolphus standing nearby, smiling at him with affection. Her husband smirked back at her with a nod as his hand clasped hers. He ducked under one of Potter’s tethered ropes and stood directly behind the boy, the other hand curving around Potter’s hip possessively. The boy jolted with a start before attempting to twist his head to gawk back at the staid half of the LeStranges.
“You’re quite pretty, Harry, with those eyes of yours,” Rodolphus teased, traces of his accent still rolling into his vowels. “May I call you Harry? I like to be on a first name basis with the young boys I bugger senseless.”
“What in God’s name is wrong with you people?! What you’re doing is unconscionable! You can’t do this!!” The frizzy-haired one was shrieking hysterically, but immediately after her outburst she broke down into sobs—which Bella had to admit was quite lovely to hear.
“Hermione, stop, please!” The brat was squirming against his binds frantically, looking quite mad as he entreated the girl. Oh, if she were allowed the pleasure of torturing the Mudblood again, she’d have to remember to keep Harry close by. She wouldn’t want him to miss a thing.
“Enough! Let us prepare for the Vitiatus spell without any further caterwauling. MacNair, you’re going to have to make a visit to Snape and his stores. There’s a potion we’ll need in conjunction with the demands of the ritual. Lucius, I’ll need you to fetch a very particular knife from my chamber. Rabastan, there are a few more ingredients we need to acquire.”
“My Lord,” Walden MacNair interjected, “shall I take care of the girl for you until this is over? I can keep her…quiet,” he offered with a sneer.
“You will do as I say, be off with you. I want those two to witness the ritual. A prelude to their fates, if all goes according to plan. And if it doesn’t, you can do what you like with them.”
He sent them all off on their tasks while a flurry of activity exploded throughout the ballroom as other Death Eaters looked for opportunities to involve themselves in the event. Bella, still on her knees, circled arms around Potter’s waist and gloated up at him.
“This is going to be so much fun….”

******

When Bella was a young girl, she would spend hours enthralled during her father’s lessons. Just listening to his deep, somber voice would often do the trick, lulling her into an almost trance-like stupor. He would sit her on his lap in his study and discuss the Dark Arts with her as though she were another adult; his intellectual equal. She would have done anything for her father. And she would attempt to prove this to him on the nights he chose to visit her bedroom. But what she held most cherished in her memories was that feeling of awe produced in those moments; that her father, such a brilliant and powerful man, could see something special enough within her to want to impart his wisdom to her. He’d deigned to have her follow in his footsteps—not her sisters, not her cousins—and make her worthy enough to be called a Black. It had been a sad day when she’d had to kill him, but by then she’d been discovered by her Master, and what a glorious moment that had been.
Sitting back on her legs gracefully as the finishing preparations went on around her, Bella watched the boy fidget and fight, writhing in his binds as the others forced him to down potions then discarded his clothes and stretched his arms out to secure them to the pillars. A thin bar had been pushed up against his stomach and hip bones; the bracketed legs supporting it used to shackle his ankles. Potter was bent slightly at the waist and his chest and shoulders fell forward while he struggled to keep his head up straight, the ropes still snaking from his neck going taut with every movement. She admired the boy’s lithe form; he was put together very nicely. He had grown up, she could see that now, and it was a pleasant surprise to find that her body was responding to the sight of an attractive young man, albeit one who kept up an infernal racket.
Bella was as naked as the child before her, but she was not ashamed or embarrassed. She knew that sex was part of her power, part of her threat, and while she had ceased caring about those aspects of herself, men and women were still drawn to them. For her lord had shown her that she was destined for more than what her beauty had preordained her life to be—she was special, she was a warrior, and she had overcome all that stood in her way. While her beauty may have been ravaged by the horrors of prison, there was no denying that she was a formidable soldier in her Master’s army. And now she would be even more, she would be all that her Master had planned for her. And it was all because of this boy.
Ash had been smeared on her face: thick, sooty lines atop her cheekbones, across her forehead, drawn vertically from under her lip to run all the way to the hollow of her throat. A white circle had been painted right above her mons. Similar circles rimmed the areolas of her breasts. She was ready to receive her gift, and that same feeling she remembered from those times on her father’s knee enveloped her like the warmth of a hearth fire. Watching her Master brandish her knife—the very same one that killed that meddlesome house elf—instead of the bejeweled one he had initially chosen for the deed, filled her with enormous pride. It was a triumph to see Potter recognize it with widened eyes, only to watch him wince and cry out a moment later when the blade was used to slice the sacred marks into his chest. When the dagger pierced his scrotum, his screams surged Bella’s desire like a wave from the sea ready to destroy a village. She closed her eyes and let the anticipation linger in her nerve endings, a jittery vibration just under her flesh. There were more titters and jeers from the crowd of Death Eaters, but Bella only paid attention to the Dark Lord as he intoned more of the spell in that snake speak she adored so much, hanging on to every sibilant hiss. She opened her eyes to watch him. The Master’s bloodletting on the boy finished, he turned the point of the blade to her, soaked crimson from Potter’s sex. She opened her mouth dutifully for her communion rite, licking the blade clean with great theatricality.
Someone had finally silenced the Mudblood, or perhaps they’d taken her away; Bella was too entranced with the sight before her to bother finding out. Her lord’s wand grazed the top of her head as she ran her hands up Potter’s thighs, the child wailing his denials. His organ lay timid and slug-like against his body and Bella ghosted her breath over it, staring at it for the slightest movement in rapt wonder as if it might leap at her at any moment. She poked out her tongue and held it close to the appendage, her breath suspended as she tried to absorb his fear through her tastebuds. Bella could see the trembling in the boy’s abdomen, but fixated on the fluttering pulse just above his pubis as she moved to take hold of his hips and lick along the head of his cock. The reaction was instantaneous.
“No! Oh, God, oh my God, please….stop this.” The last words were pitifully whined, barely a request. Bella glanced up at the boy’s face and could see his eyes go glassy and white as the irises rolled up, his mouth open as a guttural groan elongated into one of a pained sigh. The potion was taking effect. She watched him war with the powerful aphrodisiac as it played out across his features, need surfacing through the terror. Instinctively, the tip of her tongue jutted out to stroke along his shaft and it hardened predictably. The child was hers. She gobbled his cock up with glee.
It had been a while since she’d performed this particular act—violence had supplanted her sexual desire by the time she’d escaped Azkaban—but she felt the years slide away to her teenaged self as her enthusiasm increased. Cygnus, after all, had required the use of her mouth most often back then and she had been only too earnest to oblige her father. It had become a specialty of hers before she’d even met Rodolphus—a good way to exercise her power over men without having to resort to actual intercourse itself—but he had certainly appreciated her skills well enough before their marriage. They hardly touched each other these days, simply watched each other with various partners….or prisoners. As soon as she felt Rodolphus’ hands fold over her grip on Potter’s bony hips, her head started to bob more determinedly, sucking the boy with complete conviction as she felt her husband manoeuvre his way to the boy’s arsehole. Potter was thick and steely in and out of her throat; his moans were becoming more shameless, although some could be mistaken for sobs. Her hands slid down to just under the boy’s bum, curling around the insides of his thighs so she could pull apart, splitting open the boy’s firm cheeks for Rodolphus to burrow into. Potter’s skin was on fire, his body heat baking her fingertips, but she wouldn’t let go of him. There was another slight press to the back of her head.
“Bella, you have to make sure his virginity is completely stripped away in every likely permutation. There is no room for misinterpretation.”
She reluctantly pulled her mouth away from Potter, one hand closing around the erect cock to stroke him on as her husband inched his way inside the boy. There were more distressed shouts and begging, of course, as he jerked about in his binds, but Bella ignored them as she rose to stand before the Chosen One. Chosen, indeed, she mocked in her head; they couldn’t have picked a better lamb for the spit. Potter played his part perfectly, his face a fascinating confluence of suffering and incredulity. Holding on to his shoulders tightly, she lifted up one leg, then the other, to swing them over the bar Potter was bent over. Rodolphus stayed motionless, his grip at Potter’s waist adamant while she positioned the boy’s erection to her eager cunt. Bella thrust with her bottom as her nails sunk into flesh, the prints of her fingers turning instantly wet and sticky. She felt his heat slide into her; Bella’s insides were nearly set aflame. Immediately, she cried out her elation, feeling the muscled walls clench around the intrusion. The boy was hers, she echoed in her head again, victory singing in her breast.
It seemed that the moment was suspended in time as the three of them held their pose, even Potter standing stock still on his toes as each of them grew accustomed to the rampant sensations let loose from the connection. Someone in the room breathed a gusty, Merlin!, aloud before they were shushed by a few others. Bella’s eyes closed to revel in being penetrated by The Boy Who Lived, the very symbol of all that she detested in the Wizarding race, and imagined how she would destroy this abomination. For a brief second she felt contaminated, a physical feeling of filth being entered into her body via his half-breed cock, and her gorge rose as that old anger bloomed in her gut, wanting to repel the invasion, wanting her cunt to grow teeth and make quick work of the boy’s knob. Visions swirled about in her mind: of a dank, dirty cell in that hell on Earth, of guards who made use of her while she was in the grip of a Dementor-induced nightmare, their boisterous taunts to Rodolphus in the next cell over barely penetrating the screams in her head; of her father’s whispers to her as they fucked that Narcissa had become quite the beauty, those large, fleshy hands that smelled so cloyingly of his spicy cologne closing over her mouth once she’d started to cry; of Rodolphus and his brother, Rabastan, sexually torturing a Muggle girl in her bed as she watched, the girl’s tear-stained face surrounded by black curls reminding her of Andromeda the last time she saw her, how she’d wanted to get rid of the baby and had begged Bella for help. As if that betrayal hadn’t already been hard enough on her, knowing her sister had gone off and married that ridiculous Muggle to play daddy to the bastard child left Bella no other option than to cut Andromeda out of her heart with the most jagged and rusted pair of scissors.
But the memories were over in an instant once she felt strong hands cup the rounded swell of her arse and pull her closer to the boy. Her husband was pressed flush against Potter’s back, his teeth sinking into the boy’s shoulder as he shifted Bella’s weight on the bar. They were in control of this child, she was reminded. She followed Rodolphus’ lead and threw her arms around Potter’s neck, clasping him tightly as she drew herself up, breasts squashed against the young man’s surprisingly fit chest. Blood from his wounds smeared upon her skin as she licked along Potter’s jaw line, the salty taste of tears delighting her.
“Nnnggggg, get off of me, you fucking perverts!”
She laughed in her throat at the profanity. My, someone had grown a mouth on him. Potter’s groans continued, but the fight seemed to bleed from him as Bella and Rodolphus pressed closer still, practically screwing each other through the boy.
“Let go, baby boy,” she mewled to him. “Let go of your pride and this will be so much better. We’re going to take this from you, either way. Just give in and let Bellatrix take care of everything.” Her voice turned soothing, welcoming, as she licked along his cheek and just under the rim of his glasses. “You have no choice,” she sang softly, nipping at his chin. Her Master had explained that she needed Potter’s desire to activate the spell, but she still wanted him to suffer.
“You’re a tight piece of arse, Harry, no doubt about that, I’m a lucky man. But no matter, love; we’ll turn you into a whore, yet. Bella’s got a way with the lads, you’ll be her bitch,” Rodolphus growled his emphasis on the word with a sharp thrust into the boy, “soon enough.” The boy couldn’t even toss back an insult, his scream gargled in his throat with eyes squeezed tight.
And then they were moving; one pair of hips gyrating to Potter’s backside while the other canted forward to receive him. Rodolphus was hardly gentle—was never gentle—and quickly began slamming his bulk into the boy as his thrusts grew faster; Bella absorbing the shocks at her end. This pace was unlikely to get their novice into the proper state for a climax, she thought with a frown, even with the potion making him conducive to arousal. She slapped a hand at her husband’s bicep.
“Slow down, you fool! He’s not one of your silly bints.” Her fingers slipped into the child’s hair, carding those wild, sable locks gently before she curled a fist around them and tugged backwards, tilting his head to face hers. “Look at me…Harry. Keep your eyes on mine,” she urged seductively, her voice going low and husky. The boy tried to twist away from her but she tugged again, much harder this time, and forced him to meet her stare. “It’s all right, baby Harry, just relax and let us do the work. All you have to do is feel…and watch…me…”
There was desperation in those green eyes, but he held her gaze as she continued to stroke his hair. When Bella took control, rolling her hips up to his and nudging him back onto Rodolphus’ waiting cock, they all swayed together much slower, almost excruciatingly so. Bella used the power in her legs to help propel her pelvis forward; pushing him to fill her deeper. The three of them eventually fell into a rhythm that was hypnotic as much as it was sensual, although Potter was really just being sawed back and forth between her and Rodolphus.
“That’s it, Harry. You’re a natural. You fuck like a right pro, baby.” She went back to licking his face.
“Shut up.” His tone was gruff and hard but Bella could hear his heavy panting ratchet up to wheezes, a moan escaping sealed lips.
“Be nice, Harry,” Rodolphus teased, grasping the ropes still extending from either side of Potter’s neck. He shook them hard and the boy’s head snapped to and fro along with the force. “Wouldn’t want to have to hurt your friendsssss,” he hissed in a long stream right into Harry’s ear. He thrust harshly against them once more and this time Harry opened his mouth in a loud grunt.
Instantly, Bella swooped down, pressing lips to the child’s as her tongue automatically sought out his. Harry gave a surprised jolt, a strangled sound accompanying his shock, but she didn’t move away, clutching the back of his head to hold him in place. His tongue retracted to the back of his throat and stiffened but Bella closed teeth over his bottom lip and bit hard until she could taste blood, relishing his whimper echoing through her. She held on, gnashing through flesh tenaciously to drive her point home. He yelped again, but opened his mouth for her properly this time; tongue out so she could suck on its mealy thickness like she would his cock. Bella ground herself into his groin, loving the girth and the rigidity spearing her because it was there without consent. She could take what she wanted and he was powerless to deny her, the way it ought to be. The thrill of it had apparently aroused her more than she’d expected if the sopping wetness evident between her legs was any indication. Of course, it could have been the blood seeping from the slice in Potter’s testes, but Bella wanted to think the former, wanted to imagine that she was this turned on by the sex in a way that she hadn’t been in years.
“Mmm, ickle Harr-e-e-e-e-e,” she moaned, smacking kisses all over the sides of his mouth. The boy groaned aloud once more and let his jaw go slack, those eyes penetrating her. She could see his lashes under his glasses this close—they were the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen on anyone, man or woman. “Faster, Rodolphus,” she issued sharply. Something was happening in those eyes and Bella wanted to see more of it. Their bodies slapped together more forcefully as thrusts sped up. “Show me, Harry, let me see you.”
An invisible hand pushed from inside of her mind, just like her Master had instructed, and she stared into the child’s eyes as she envisioned that hand reaching out to rummage through his thoughts. She could feel a solid block for a moment, and then it went mushy, fingers pressing through wet clay, poking through to space. Her stare was fixed on those bright gems that stood in for his eyes and nothing more, all sound fading into silence as if the room around them had fallen away. And then she could hear it, hear frightened mutters growing into shouts, until the words were finally discernable and Potter’s eyes widened to saucers.
I don’t want to feel this, I’m not feeling this….
The frantic rambling died down as Potter became aware of her presence and then she pushed one more time, like a punch through a wall. In a flash, there was no ballroom any longer, just a tiny, musty room filled with debris and a small bed, some scribbled drawings gracing patches on the wall. A little boy with spastic black hair and disheveled clothes two sizes too big sat on the thin mattress, fists scrunched to his face as sobs broke through the hush. “Mum-my, mum-my, I want my mummy,” he cried.
The boy suddenly bolted upright in surprise, his shocked face staring back at Bella. “No,” he said meekly, before he was dissolving into another Harry, an older Harry, running down the street with harsh breaths as sounds of taunting boys came from behind him. “We’re gonna get you, you little freak,” someone chanted as Harry darted a frightened look over his shoulder then faced ahead with a renewed burst of speed. “Never,” he muttered with a determined squint of his eyes, and then there was a loud crack and he’d vanished. Bella got another view, one atop the flat rooftop of a building, as the boy stared down at several running youths who careened to a stop in their tracks, heads spinning around searching for their disappeared victim. Harry glanced to his left and he was looking straight at her again. “You can’t have me,” he told her, “or my magic.” Then the vision went blurry and streaked into blackness.
This only excited Bella further. “Fuck the little brat harder!” she shouted manically to her husband. The challenge on, she took hold of the boy’s head in a tighter grip and her face zoomed right up to his, her lashes touching his glasses as she eyeballed him up close. “We’ll see about that, Harry,” she declared aloud, and then she pushed her mind forward once more, straining to eradicate the murkiness Potter had thrown up in concealment of his thoughts. Her hand crept down to stroke his chest, noticing for the first time the light scrub of hair there when it tickled her skin. One sharp nail circled the fleshy bud of a nipple until she could hear his breath hitch. Satisfied, she pinched it savagely and waited for his mouth to open with a wince. Instead, he gave a frustrated groan, but Bella pounced on those lips once more, her tongue ready for the fight.
“Let me see more, I want more,” she whispered to him greedily as she kept up the barrage of frenzied kisses.
“Yeah?” Harry’s voice rose hoarsely. “How’s this, then?” And then the cloud of black was gone and a light shone brightly on a scene right behind her eyes. She saw the veil flapping lazily in that cursed room, and then her cousin falling backwards into the mist, his mass deteriorating into a ghostly outline before fading to nothing. Bella heard the boy’s screams echoing around her and then she was fleeing through the Ministry, the sound of feet pounding the floor behind her in a race to catch up. “You’re dead! Do you hear me?! You’re going to pay for what you did!” The Bella in Potter’s thoughts tripped and fell to the floor, but she saw herself roll over quickly and gawk up at the boy running toward her with his wand out. His features were twisted into pure hatred as he glared down at her, slowing to a standstill once he was near. “Think I’m going to mean it this time, Bella. Crucio!”
The Bella in the here and now suddenly arched her back, mouth open wide as she let loose a glorious, “Oh, Gggods!!” This was exactly what she wanted from the half-blood. Her memory-self was writhing on the floor, too, but not in pain, an expression of ecstasy taking over face. “Yessss, do it, Potter! Do it again! Give me your all!”
He was bent to the floor now, his wand stabbing at her chest. “You’re fucking insane, you know that? This is supposed to hurt!” And he shouted the curse again, sending another thrill through Bella as it hit every erogenous zone. Her laughs merged with her screams in their thoughts, but the real Bella simply wrapped herself around the boy in a death grip and held on, her teeth finding a patch of pulsing flesh just above the rope around his neck where she bit down until the metallic taste of his blood filled her mouth once more. The three of them were moving together much faster and more intently now, and Bella closed her eyes so she could see only the images Potter was pouring into her head. His wand was still at her chest, but he was looking confused, his bravado from a moment ago slipping. “I hate you,” he spat at her, dropping to his knees. Then he was tugging up her skirt.
“This isn’t happening. You can’t make me—I’m not—it’s not possible!” He keened in his throat as he tore at her under things and spread her legs with a vicious determination. “Why are you doing this?” he pleaded desperately as he fell on her waiting body, but once he drove into her his voice deepened a few octaves lower. “You’re pathetic,” he snarled. In the inhabitance of real space, Bella felt Potter push into her of his own volition. Smiling wickedly, she hooked her ankle to the boy’s waist in an attempt to keep his momentum going, kicking at Rodolphus to move him back. Her husband grabbed her shin to help hold her steady.
“You think I can’t be ruthless? You want to know how this feels?” Shouts reverberated throughout her head, but outside of it Harry only whined his fury. He thrust again awkwardly, but with more purpose. Bella nudged Rodolphus with her foot again to keep him still, wanting to give Harry an opportunity to take charge. Finally, he seemed to catch on.
The child was perfect. Moving with a mighty lunge forward before rounding his hips back, he was now the driving force between her and Rodolphus, who had ceased his own thrusts and was simply letting the boy fuck himself on his cock. Her little rebel was glaring at her as if he had the power to immolate her body with his thoughts, and for a breathless second, Bella expected green flames to zip from those trademark specs and do just that. She giggled when the moment passed with her flesh scorch-free. Potter only narrowed his gaze at her, the curl of his top lip showing his distaste.
“Think this is funny, do you?” he jeered.
“Baby wants to play, does he?” Her laugh trilled along a scale. “Are you going to kill me, Harry? Or were you just planning on fucking me like an itsy-bitsy boy?”
He gave another frustrated howl as he sped up the slams of hips. The ropes surrounding him were rigidly taut once more, while his face and neck had gone bright red from the strain. She hoped he wouldn’t strangle himself to death in the act; that would be anti-climactic, indeed.
Rodolphus was muttering in the boy’s ear again. “Oh, aren’t you a prize, love? Look at the way that lovely bum of yours moves, swallowing up my cock. Are your little friends going to be this much fun? I admit I’m eager to get my hands on the Mudblood, virgin or not. Bet she’ll taste sweeter than treacle oozing out of her cunt once I get through with her.”
“SHUT UP!! Just shut up already! I don’t want to hear…ANY of this! Silencio!” Potter shouted the spell with enough conviction, but of course nothing happened, and the duo cruelly laughed louder to illustrate it’s ineffectiveness.
Bella pouted at him mockingly. “Poor widdle Potty. Trying so hard to be a man. But you’ll never measure up, will you? You’ll never defeat us. You’re too weak and stupid. Diffindo!” She shouted her spell wandlessly, her outstretched fingers aimed at the floor. Instantly, the restraints binding his ankles broke free and Potter toppled forward for a moment, Bella almost dragging him down with her weight. Rodolphus’ hand snaked down the side of the boy’s leg and gripped his thigh tightly, but she was already unfurling her legs from around the boy and dropping them to the ground. His cock slid out of her, and she could see it was still engorged and gleaming. A viscous thread of her arousal suspended between them for a split second and then fell away. Bella knelt before him, quickly banishing the bar holding him up before her mouth was devouring him. She grew heady for a minute, the smell of him so inviting and overwhelming; she could feel a tangible cohesion of his power swirling up into the wall of muscle behind his groin. Rodolphus had moved his hand further down Harry’s leg and was curling his fingers around the back of the boy’s knee, lifting it up so that Potter swayed slightly with the imbalance. But Bella was immediately pressing a palm tight against the underside of the pale, but strong thigh as her husband shifted them forward again, resuming control as he held tight to Harry’s waist and bounced the boy up and down on his erection. His pace quickened as he fucked the boy right into her stretched gob.
“Nnnngg—No! Oh God,” Harry cried out as she squeezed her throat around the head of his cock with a swallow. Bella pulled back for a second to catch a breath and see Potter’s face, but her eyes were drawn to the sight of Rodophus’ prick disappearing in and out of the boy’s hole. She sat mesmerized by the extreme proximity for several beats, the details so vivid and magnified while their grunts and groans filled her head with a song of the earthiest eroticism. Unable to hold back her lust, her head dove under Potter’s scrotal sac and she darted a tongue to the joined, bloody spot of piston and passageway, the musky scent of them both causing her eyelids to flutter like the wings of a hummingbird. Rodolphus yelled his surprise but instantly angled his stance so she could have full access to his balls. But Bella could give two figs about her husband’s tackle; she’d grown tired of his bits years back. It was Harry that she wanted now.
With a dexterous hand, she pushed back on Potter’s belly and re-arranged him slightly on her husband’s weight, aiming for the boy to land on the full penetration of Rodolphus’ length and hit the pleasure spot she knew was buried inside of him. And all the while, her mouth moved to engulf Potter’s tightened bollocks. He screamed so loud she couldn’t help but grin around the egg-like testicle gripped in her maw, the wiry bits of pubic hair scraping against her tongue. Lifting her free arm, she raised a hand to his face, patting around his features until the pads of her fingers settled on his lips and prodded them open. She expected him to bite her given such an opportunity, but curiously, he only widened his mouth and allowed her fingers to slide in, all four curling around the lower bridge of his teeth while her thumb dug into his chin. Emboldened by his acquiescence, Bella bent to taste him a second time. She lapped and kissed at the ring of muscle wrapped snug around her husband’s steeliness, relishing the whimpers escaping from around her fingers, the vibrations against her skin making her dizzy again.
As soon as the air changed around them, they all felt it. A tingling ran along the hairs on her arm and up her back, and then a physical sensation of solid matter pressing against her, making her feel strangely weightless and disoriented. Rodophus stilled for a moment with a strangled choke, while there were gasps and murmurs from the forgotten onlookers, bringing Bella back to her surroundings. Instantly, she pulled back, her head tilted to gaze upon their captive, the Boy Who Lived.
He was glowing again.
Eyes shut tight, but glasses glinting with the light from the ceiling; Harry’s face was frozen into a picture of beatific rapture. His head was tipped back at a slight angle, chin jutted where her hand still grasped him. Her fingers stuffed into his mouth looked amazing to her, drool trickling down the side of his jaw catching a shine. But it was the halo of whitish-green forming at the back of his head that drew most of her attention. The smoky wisps emanating from him first appeared like a wreath, but rapidly invigorated into a belt of energy that pulsed with Potter’s heartbeat. Bella gaped at the spectacle—he looked like the paintings she’d seen of that Muggle Christ—and watched transfixed as the greenish ring started to extend and wind itself around the boy’s face, descending in a serpentine crawl. Bella slowly shoved her fingers to the back of his throat, keeping them tight together as though they were Nagini’s head sliding right into the boy’s gullet, and Rodolphus chose that moment to bring the brat down hard on his cock, probably stabbing that little button inside Harry into blistering starbursts of pleasure. The combined reaction was glorious. His body seized up with a jolt and he howled around the obstruction of her hand so delightfully that Bella wanted to ram her fingers all the way to his chest. She was in awe; staring in fascination as that magic band now spiraled its way down past Harry’s shoulders.
There was a sudden, fervent clapping from someone behind her and a few bellows of surprise, and Bella took it all as her cue to get on with it, to bring this child to his knees, finally. They had triggered something, there was no denying that, and now she could almost taste his magic in the space sizzling around her face. Bella pressed her palm harder to his thigh before taking Harry into her mouth again and there was a sound of glass exploding from somewhere in the room, eliciting more gasps. She paid it no mind, however, and simply concentrated on sucking the boy’s cock hard enough to draw that corkscrew of magic right into his bollocks.
Oh, how the sounds escaping his gob thrilled her. She could no longer tell if the muffled cries were voicing terror or desire, but she suspected there was a healthy dose of both. She needed the desire, but she craved his fear, wishing to eat his breaking heart like a raw, bloodied steak. He smelled so good, even the sweaty stench of his crotch under her nose. Bella felt ravenous, delirious, so erotically charged her body was surely giving off its own light. If only she could penetrate Potter’s body they way her husband was doing, her victory would be all the more sweeter, she imagined. Harry’s prick firmly lodged in her throat again, Bella’s hand on his leg slid to the firm curve of his arse, now bouncing at a breakneck pace with Rodolphus’ guidance. She wanted to fill him too, at both ends, at all points, at every spot where the boy could feel her unravel him, possess him, break him into pieces. It was her destiny and Bella needed to seize it all, take every bit of power from this child. She would show them all, would make her Master proud.
There was another gurgled scream around her clawed grip as she brushed a thumb lightly over the strip of flesh between the boy’s balls and arsehole, then rubbed it across the girth of her husband stretching the boy open. Bella moaned into hot skin, her throat feeling cavernous, as though it was literally growing to fit every inch of the boy inside of her, and she thought fleetingly of Master’s pet and its ability to unhinge its jaw. But Harry couldn’t escape her now, they were well past that. Rodolphus slowed down a fraction and she grabbed hold of her husband’s prick, her thumb pressed tight under the indentation of his cockhead, so that when he plunged back into the boy, her thumb was along for the ride like a hitcher on the back of a broom. The heat inside of Potter was blinding to her; there were more shouts all around this time. Bella didn’t even need to breathe at this point, her world had come down to this one zone of connections: her stiffened fingers thrusting in and out of his mouth obscenely in time to Rodolphus’ hammering, stuffing more digits alongside the shaft piercing that tight coil, swallowing around the prize in her craw. And through it all, something powerful was heading towards her, ready to light her up.
It was getting closer, the charge more electric, so that the sounds of actual sparks snapping by her head soon pulled her out of the daze she’d fallen into. The rest of the Death Eaters had become quite chatty by then, the din of conversation and general enthusiasm adding to the sense of power welling up around her. A triumphant boom of laughter resounded from her lord and Bella’s face burned hot with her pleasure. Clapping followed, this time from the entire congregation, and Bella suddenly realized that the heat source wasn’t just her pride, but pouring off of Potter’s body in a wave. She hadn’t even noticed that Rodolphus had taken hold of Harry’s other leg and lifted him up, bending the child over far enough so that he could rodger him mercilessly. Yet she continued her fight to rip the looming orgasm right out of the Chosen One, to leave him bereft of his magic and ready for death. Removing her hand from a slobbering mouth so that she could clutch tightly to his waist, Bella was met with screams that brought down the manor, but she refused to slow down, nor back away, oxygen no longer a concern as she sucked him down further. She felt ready to combust, but it was so close, that current of magic swirling through her hair now, dancing on her forehead. Were there shouts from the other two? Several were awfully high-pitched and excessive, but it was then that she understood that the cries were coming from her, as well. A chorus of exultation rent the air when she felt the first tendril of Potter’s magic touch her tongue. Semen. Then fire. Then utter silence for a gorgeous moment when the top of her head felt as if it might splinter and blast outwards into shrapnel of bone and brain. She was being filled with a glorious light, the surge streaming down her throat, exploding behind her eyes, splashing into her guts and turning her into an organism of the purest power itself.
She was a God.
When Bella opened her eyes, she was on her back, faces peering down at her in amazement. She flicked her gaze to where the boy sagged in his ropes, apparently unconscious and head lolling to the side. There appeared to be a Hovering charm holding him up so that he wouldn’t hang himself and Bella worried what would happen to him next. Would he be all right? She frowned as the others stared. Why should she care about Potter?
Hours later, she was dressed and lying down in her room, still exhausted from the transference but eager to test out her magic. Her head pounded, but she couldn’t help feeling a certain warmth wrap around her like swaddling. She felt protected, strong. A soft rap on her door brought her to a sitting position on the bed, hands pressed to her abdomen as she called for her guest to enter. When her Master strode through the door with the faintest smirk, her breath caught for a minute, but then he was before her, reaching out to touch her forehead and Bella’s first inclination was to back away. There was a sudden sense of revulsion, her stomach churning with sickness until she managed get a grip on herself and calm down. The Dark Lord’s hand froze in mid-air as he watched her reaction.
“Bella? How is the infusion affecting you? Do you feel any different? I’m very eager to see the results. It looked incredibly successful.”
“I—I suppose I’m still a bit shaky, my—my Lord. But I’m…I do feel more powerful. There’s something else there, like another…layer, perhaps. It’s…I’m not sure what I’m feeling right now, to be honest.”
Eyes raked over her carefully. “Fair enough, Bella. Surely, your magic must acclimate to the change. It is possible that the spell is not as instantaneous as we might have expected. As soon as you are feeling more centered, we shall have you perform some hexes on the Mudblood and the traitor to see how potent you’ve become. Come and see me in my chambers when you are ready.”
Bella felt a shiver of dread run up her spine, making her flinch. “My lord? What has happened to Ha—to the boy? Have you done away with him already?”
“Oh no, there is still more information to be gained, Bella. He is spending some quality time with a few of your cohorts who expressed a desire to have as much fun with him as you apparently did, my dear. We were all impressed. I’m sure he’ll look quite worked over once he’s brought before the court again.”
There it was again; another wave of the sickliest nausea as visions swam in her head of a battered and bloodied Harry teetering on trembling legs as he faced the Death Eaters. Bella shook her head a few times to clear away the image, but her nose wrinkled at the odd mood that had settled into her heart. And she couldn’t understand why she didn’t feel thrilled at the prospect of torturing the boy’s friends. She squashed down the need to vomit again.
The Dark Lord had turned to leave, but he halted when she rushed through her next question. “Do you need me to go and check on him?”
He glanced over his shoulder, his expression a stone wall. “Why would I need that, Bellatrix?”
“To—to make sure MacNair, or whomever, doesn’t go too far? You still want him alive, yes?”
Those eyes seemed to penetrate her to her very soul, and Bella suddenly, for the first time, felt vulnerable under that gaze.
“For now,” he stated quietly and then left the room.
Bella sat silently as she gaped at the door. She reached up a quaking hand to clutch at her throat, trying to still the rapid pulse there.
Harry.
Just the echo of his name in her mind set off a wave of guilt that threatened to crush her. Merlin, she felt sick. What was happening?
Bella took out her wand and stared at it for a full minute before pointing it to the wall. “Lumos,” she whispered, as though she were afraid of being caught. The tip glowed brightly for a second before it swelled into an orb of white light. But it didn’t stop. The ball continued to grow larger until she had to turn away, arm up to her eyes to shield her from the intense glare. Her wand bent from the weight, and when Bella squinted back at the sight, the ball had gone massive and the light in the room was white-hot and consuming. She shouted out, Nox! as she faced the wall again. The pyre that had been released immediately disappeared. Bella glanced around the room, her eyes still blown out and seeing spots, but as her vision cleared, she stared back at the walnut wand resting so docilely in her grip.
Great Salazar, what could she do with a Crucio?
Clutching the wand to her chest, Bella steadied her breath and tried not to imagine what would happen once the Dark Lord summoned her to ‘perform’. This was her magic. She would learn how to control it, to master it; no one else. But she needed to find a way to avoid being called before the rest of them with the children awaiting their sentence.
Narcissa. She should go and talk to Narcissa. Her sister would…understand. She knew how to placate their leader. She had figured out how to protect Draco and had even redirected the wrath that was ready to come down on Lucius’ head at any moment. Bella scrunched up her face at the thought. She should check on her nephew to see how he was holding up. But thinking of Draco brought her back to Harry. His power was enormous, and it had been untapped before now. The young man was much more remarkable than she’d previously imagined. Perhaps Narcissa could sneak her down to the dungeons so she could take a peek at him. Make sure MacNair and his lot weren’t doing too much damage. In a way, he was bound to her; Harry was her responsibility.
Bella stood up and crept to the door; cracking it just a sliver so she could scope out the hallway. She really ought to find her way to the boy. He was much more valuable than even the Dark Lord could have guessed.
She poked her head out and swung it to the right; there seemed to be no one about. Her gaze fell on one of the lamps on the wall. The sphere’s incandescent glow made her think of a room, deep within the Ministry, and suddenly a line ran through her memory, one that Lucius had muttered to her in the days after the assault.
He will have power the Dark Lord knows not…

Bella really did need to find Harry.
- 1
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Wave of Mutilation