Rodolphus awoke, as he did every morning, to the sound of his wife leaving their bed.
He rolled onto his side and looked across it. Bellatrix left nothing behind but an indent in the sheets three meters away from Rodolphus. She had charmed their bed to double its original width. A precaution so that Rodolphus didn't get "ideas."
"Good morning," Rodolphus said.
Bellatrix glanced back at him, looking only from the corner of her eyes. Without an answer she walked in front of a mirror and dropped her night-robe.
She stood naked in the room with her husband. For most, that would be a sign of intimacy. Bellatrix didn't look at Rodolphus a second time.
She pulled open drawers and dug through them. When she found what she was looking for, she lifted a skimpy set of lingerie, stepping into the panties and clasping the bra. Both were pure black, her skin perpetually pale. She didn't look her age, her form devoid of excess weight and curved like an artist molded her in pursuit of perfection.
"Are you ever relieved?" Rodolphus asked.
Bellatrix had been twisting to study her body's reflection. Her lips flat, she turned her torso to face her husband. "Rodolphus, did you speak?"
"I asked if you're ever relieved."
"Oh." Bellatrix faced the mirror again. "What for?"
"That we were matched. Out of all the possibilities, I'm glad that my family chose you."
"House Black is a good ally to have," Bellatrix said.
"No. I meant you."
Bellatrix didn't look. She didn't answer. She hadn't even heard him.
Rodolphus watched his wife pull on silk robes that barely covered her lingerie, hanging off her curvaceous body at every corner. She left the room without bidding goodbye. Only as she left did she smile for the first time.
Rodolphus dressed himself particularly slowly that morning.
He wandered downstairs and ate by himself. Just as he was finishing, the screams started.
"Fuck me!" A lull. "Fuck me fuck me fuck me! Ahhhhh!"
Rodolphus chewed his last bite of toast. He left the room where he'd eaten, heading downstairs to sit beside the door. If guests visited, he would be there to greet them. That had been the elf's job, once.
The screams still reached him. Rodolphus took a book from a nearby shelf and stared at the pages, trying to force himself to focus on the words. He'd never liked to read.
In his head, he told himself that he was the guard. He was the one who controlled the wards— the moment someone arrived within range, it was Rodolphus that would be alerted. The master was doing top secret work. It was up to Rodolphus to guard him during this critical time.
"Ah fuuuuuuuuuuck!"
He bit down on his own teeth as if to chew through them. He couldn't help the way his mind wandered. If she let him touch her that way, would she still make those noises?
Soon he was covering his ears, reading each page six times before moving on. He wasn't sure what the book was about.
He was still like that an hour later when someone moved at the edge of his vision. The wards hadn't gone off, so it had to be one of the other two in the manor.
"So this is where you are. Lord Voldemort is working, so do not mistakenly disturb him."
"I would never," Rodolphus said, peeling his hands off of his ears. He wouldn't look directly at Bellatrix and her flushed cheeks.
"What were you doing, anyway?" Bellatrix asked. "Huddled like a damn fool holding your own head."
"Just reading," Rodolphus said quietly.
Bellatrix observed him, then turned sharply, realizing that she simply did not care.
"I'll be attending a Wizengamot session. Before that, I must get changed. I'll be back for dinner."
Rodolphus stared at his book in her wake. He slid his fingertips over the letters of it like a blind man reading brail. He moved his hand so far that it slipped off, touching the table's wood, and kept going, eventually leading it off the lip.
"Just reading," he said.
He started to laugh, although he couldn't put his finger on the joke.
O-O-O
The master was working on something. That was all Rodolphus had been told when he first arrived and took up residence in Rodolphus' family manor. It had been almost a year now. Rodolphus still had no idea what the project was. He had only three clues about it.
Every once in a while, magic so powerful that it affected the wards would be cast, making the manor itself tremble. Occasionally, at irregular intervals, Rodolphus would have attacks of forgetfulness. All of a sudden, he couldn't find things that he had just set down. Lastly, Rodolphus had learned that when the master felt like taking a break, he did it by fucking Rodolphus' wife.
The manor walls were so much thinner than he'd ever known.
It became Rodolphus' job to handle everything that needed to be done around the mansion. Other wizards were to be kept out unless the master called for them. The risk that Voldemort's work could be discovered prematurely was too great. There had been a house elf, an old female one who handled the meals and chores. Until the elf served a soup that was a touch too hot, and Bellatrix broke her spine. The master laughed uproariously at the position the crumpled elf fell in.
She had been in Rodolphus' family since he was a child. By outliving his parents and brother, she was almost the last of his family.
Voldemort told him that he was now in charge of cooking.
Rodolphus had no idea how to do that. He was the child of a Sacred Twenty-Eight family. That wasn't a skill men were taught. So, he compromised. He bought himself a slave.
She lived in the kitchen. He'd placed a mat for her. The Imperius kept her obedient, and because neither Bellatrix nor Voldemort could be bothered to visit the kitchen, they never discovered the blond girl living there.
Her name was Penelope. She was beautiful, almost as much as Bellatrix. Yet Rodolphus never felt any urges toward her. How could he take advantage of her state? She was the closest thing he had to a kindred spirit.
She was a wonderful cook. It was one of the things he requested when he visited the Emporium. Each day Rodolphus watched her work. It started as a way of pretending that he was doing the work himself, but over time he came to appreciate the beauty of watching her knife work.
"How did you learn these skills?" he asked.
"My mother taught me," Penny said.
The promptness of her reply soured his mood slightly. It was a reminder that his magic was compelling her to answer. It was too similar to how he sounded each time the master spoke to him. Reminded why he typically watched in silence, Rodolphus shut up.
Penny prepared a roast with vegetables on the side. When it was done, Rodolphus lifted the plates with a charm, bringing them to the dining room.
The master and his wife were already there. Bellatrix wore her Chief Warlock robes. Voldemort's pale, handsome, waxy face twisted to offer the barest smile.
"What a wonderful meal you've prepared," he said. "Come, Rodolphus. Let's eat."
Rodolphus set it down in the middle of the table. He slowly retreated to his own seat. He was Lord Lestrange… yet with his master at the table, Rodolphus had been given the least important seat, exiled to the corner of the table. It had been done on purpose, though Rodolphus didn't understand why. Had he not been a loyal servant his whole life?
He waited to serve himself third. Voldemort and Bellatrix took at the same time. Bella heaped her plate with meat, ignoring the vegetables. She took so much that none was left for Rodolphus.
"M-May I have some?" Rodolphus asked.
She sneered at him. "Should have cooked something bigger then. Serves you right for wasting your time on trash like this."
She flipped the plate of vegetables, dumping carrots across the table, most of which rolled onto the floor. Rodolphus' eye developed a twitch. That was Penny's food…
"That won't do, Bella," Voldemort purred. "You have to eat your vegetables. I need you to be nice and strong. In good condition to serve me…"
He picked up a carrot from the table, cleaning it with his hand. Bellatrix gave him puppy eyes that would have looked out of place on a girl a quarter her age.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Apologies mean nothing. Simply do better," Voldemort said. "Here. Allow me to help you."
He held the carrot out. Bellatrix leaned in. She licked it on two sides, staring at him, before stretching her mouth over his fingers. She pulled her lips back, sucking on Voldemort's fingers until the carrot popped loose. Bellatrix sat back in her seat, shivering with pure delight as she chewed what she'd been given. Voldemort calmly wiped his hand with the same napkin he cleaned the food with.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
Rodolphus flinched, realizing the Dark Lord was looking at him.
"N-No, my lord," he said quickly, staring at the table.
"Strange. I almost thought I saw a glare."
Every muscle Rodolphus owned contracted. His heart nearly beat into his throat as he rushed to utter any assurances he could—
"This fool doesn't have it in him," Bellatrix said. "He was moderately spirited when we were young, but Azkaban drained him. All that's left is a coward, Lord Voldemort. A hollow bore masquerading as a man."
"...Then it's as you say," Voldemort said.
Rodolphus' heart beat faster. Bellatrix, she saved him! He knew she cared in her own twisted — very twisted — way. Yes, it… It could always be worse. He should be grateful.
"What are you waiting for, Rodolphus?" Voldemort asked. "Take your food."
They had taken all the meat and Bellatrix had spread the vegetables across the room. Could he mean…
Rodolphus pushed his chair back. Voldemort didn't take kindly to wands being drawn in his presence. Rodolphus had learned that before. He walked around his dining room, stooping to collect the vegetables that had been dumped. Bellatrix giggled as she chewed bites of roast.
Returning to his seat with his plate now full, Rodolphus started to clean a carrot the way Voldemort had.
"Is your own cooking not good enough for you? And yet you feed it to me?"
"No— It's that it's dirty, My Lord—"
"Eat it," Voldemort said.
Rodolphus ate.
"How was your work today?" Bellatrix asked. "Any progress, Lord?"
"Time will tell," Voldemort said. "The outcome was decided as soon as I set my mind to this task. All that remains to be answered is how long it may take. And what of you, my dear? Is Wizengamot treating you well?"
"Dreadfully dull," Bellatrix confessed. "There was a bit of fun the other day. Your student was involved! A murder trial, for poor weak Alecto."
"Indeed? And what do you make of his loyalty?" Voldemort asked.
"Harry is as unenjoyable as ever," Bellatrix said. "But it seems he brings out the best in my sister, so I've let him off for now. He is difficult to assess."
Voldemort sipped a wine as red as blood. Rodolphus glanced at the bottle, confirming it was from his family's private supply. Once among the most expensive collections in England, it was half gone by now.
"Harry has always been like that." For a moment, Voldemort sounded proud. "Remember, Bellatrix, you are fulfilling a job that would be deserving of my own attention were I not preoccupied. You must act decisively. When it comes to the security of our nation, the truth comes second. If in doubt, eliminate."
"Every time I think I can't love you more, you say something so wonderful," Bellatrix said.
"You're welcome to show your appreciation. At any time."
The look in Bellatrix's eyes changed. She stuck her fork toward the ceiling. Meat juice and blood from the roast ran down it, but Bellatrix licked upward, removing it with her tongue. She gave it a few licks, even dipping down and licking her forearm when a blood trail reached that far. Rodolphus could hear the wet noise of her tongue. A moment later, she descended under the table.
It didn't take long for the noise to begin again.
Rodolphus had wolfed down his dirty vegetables while they talked. Eager to leave, he rose.
"What kind of servant abandons a meal before his master?"
Rodolphus froze. He looked at Voldemort. The man calmly cut a slice of meat and brought the bite to his lips, chewing with complete composure. Gagging and slurping could be heard underneath the table. Voldemort's red eyes locked onto Rodolphus' face.
"S-Sorry," Rodolphus said.
Voldemort smirked. "Come and get my plate. I'm done with it."
Rodolphus walked stiffly. As soon as he reached the head of the table, he was forced to see.
Bellatrix's head was sticking out from under the tablecloth. Their master's manhood was stuck between her lips, hidden in the depths of her throat. She bobbed her head for him, her half-closed eyes gazing— oh, how they were gazing!
It wasn't quite love, but it was more than devotion. This was all Bellatrix needed in life. It was what she lived for. The first time he saw that look, Rodolphus made the mistake of believing it could one day be him she looked at that way. He had never recovered.
"My plate," Voldemort said. "Don't keep me waiting."
Rodolphus grabbed the plate. His fingers were shaking so badly that half the potatoes rolled off. Voldemort lifted an eyebrow.
"Pick them up."
Rodolphus picked up the fallen food one at a time, but his fingers were still vibrating wildly, causing another to fall each time he grabbed one. He could hear Bellatrix choking.
Finally, he gathered everything on the plate. Voldemort grabbed his wrist.
"M-My lord?"
Voldemort said nothing. Rodolphus was forced to watch a few seconds longer— a few more than he could take. He blinked, finding his eyes wet.
The Dark Lord smiled. Bellatrix gurgled. She shut her eyes happily, swallowing something. Rodolphus' heart hammered.
It couldn't be… Had he just— Not to anything Bellatrix had done, but because Rodolphus cried?
Voldemort released his wrist. Rodolphus fled as fast as he could without spilling food. Anything to avoid staying in that room.
He ran back to the kitchen, hunkering on the floor when he arrived. He heard Bellatrix moaning in the direction he came from. She was especially spirited this time. He blinked repeatedly to stifle his tears, failing each time.
He hadn't even been allowed to eat. Rodolphus grabbed a stray fork and wolfed down his lord's leftovers, stuffing his mouth until he struggled to chew it all. While he kneeled, someone patted his shoulder.
Rodolphus didn't question it. He gradually swallowed, assuming that somehow Penny was commiserating their shared pain. In this house, both of them were slaves. Rodolphus couldn't run from the realization anymore. Voldemort's smile had confirmed what he'd been trying to ignore. Why was the Dark Lord treating him like this?
No reason. Because it was fun. Rodolphus was just one more expendable piece, the only one on hand for the Dark Lord to torment.
"He's always been that way."
The male voice made Rodolphus flinch. He dove to the side, wrenching himself away from the hand on his shoulder.
It wasn't Penny's. She was nowhere to be seen. The kitchen window was wide open, and the only person present was a young man with bright green eyes.
"Rodolphus," Harry Potter said. "You look upset. I feel for you… and I know how to make you feel better."
He twisted his hand, turning it upside down, offering to help Rodolphus up.
"When someone hurts you, the only choice is to get even," Harry said. "You'll never believe who taught me that."
Slowly, before he could think about what he was doing, Rodolphus reached out.
He accepted Harry's hand, letting it pull him to his feet.