Fallen Angel

Fallen Angel

“Your angels speak with jilted tongues, your serpent’s tail has come undone…you have no strength to squander.”—Sarah McLachlan, Ice

The young woman was bound and chained in the center of the Dark Lord\'s throne room. Her mouth was secured with a gag, and the look on her eyes was pure fright as her body rocked slowly back and forth as she frantically took in her surroundings. She was surrounded by Death Eaters, robed and impersonal as they stared at her from the round holes cut in their white masks.

She was to be the night’s featured entertainment, for those lucky enough to merit the honor of watching.

\"Quite a shock, Miss Granger, is it not?\" Voldemort\'s sibilant hiss caused his assembled Death Eaters to laugh, the sound cruel and taunting. \"I daresay this is the last place you expected to end up when you awoke this morning.\" With a lazy wave of his wand, the Dark Lord removed the gag from her mouth.

Hermione took several great, gulping gasps of air when the constricting gag was removed. Rodolphus was seated next to his wife and felt her hand slide lightly over his leg as they watched the scene unfold before them.

\"I wonder who he\'ll get to break her?\" Bellatrix whispered from behind her Death Eater\'s mask—Rodolphus could hear the leashed excitement in her voice. Her face was obscured by the mask, but he could easily imagine the frenzied blissful expression on her face.

\"You won\'t get away with this,\" Hermione threatened. Her voice shook but she raised her head, defiant.

They are the most fun to break, Rodolphus thought in delight.

Lucius Malfoy, standing to the left of the Dark Lord, laughed coldly. Like Voldemort, his voice had the ability to sound like ice sliding over silk. \"Such bravery, Miss Granger,\" he drawled sarcastically.

Rodolphus shifted his attention to the ebony darkness to Bellatrix’s gaze, and fire sparked through him at her look. He always did like to hear the depravity her mind could envision, especially since he was so often treated to seeing it in person.

\"Bellatrix,\" the Dark Lord hissed, snapping him from his reverie.

\"Yes, my lord?\" She stood, an elegant gesture that belied the years she\'d spent twisted and hunched in a tiny prison cell. The thought sparked his ire, and the slow burn began to heat his blood. He shot a look of pure hatred towards the girl on the floor. We shall make her cower before us...


It was ironic that together, they often brought death.

\"Break her,” the Dark Lord instructed idly, as if telling her to have tea.

The girl in the center of the room bowed her head, her bushy, tangled hair covering her face. Walking towards her, Bellatrix grasped the long strands and pulled it back sharply, earning a pained whimper from her victim. There was a gentle chuckle behind her as Rodolphus watched his wife.

Bellatrix smiled. \"Of course, my lord,\" she whispered, reverently stroking the girl’s cheek with one long, blood-red nail.

Voldemort smiled benevolently and waved his hand for Rodolphus to join her, and in a moment, the two held hands as they stared down at their new toy.

*********************

\"You should be glad that the Dark Lord did not see fit to allow a wider audience for this. Often, he likes them all to see when someone is broken.\"

Hermione jumped, her gaze going unwillingly to the man who sat across from her, peering at her with serious dark eyes and a blank face.

Rodolphus had pushed back the hood of his cloak to reveal his dark hair, cut almost brutally short as if he were some Roman general. Bellatrix was breathing rapidly and swaying slightly, as if she were moving to some symphony of darkness only she could hear.

Rodolphus’ deep voice sounded almost warm and comforting, lacking the cold cruelty of Lucius Malfoy, the high, evil hiss of the Dark Lord, or the mad, crackling joy of Bellatrix. It was the type of voice that put one in the mind of spring and the fertile, rich, deep earth.

\"Please,\" Hermione whispered shamefully.

Rodolphus smiled, his hand tracing her cheek much as his wife had done earlier.

\"That\'s a good girl,\" he whispered, and he watched as she saw the spark of something unholy in his eyes, and he knew without a doubt that she understood how his voice could lie.

There was a serpentine hiss from the shadows of the room, and Hermione\'s eyes widened in horror.

Rodolphus watched her, eyes alight with interest, as she understood he brought her no quarter, offered her no mercy. It was a favorite game he and Bellatrix played—she liked to destroy the hope his quiet and calm voice inevitably produced within their victims.

Rodolphus moved slowly around the girl, who was trembling with fear. It would heighten her edge, he thought with a feral smile, liking the way she bit her bottom lip. His hand reached out caress her arm, and she scrambled away from him, wrapping her knees around her body.

\"I don\'t think our little pet wants to play, Bella,\" he said, shaking his head. His voice was tinged with utter sadness, as if the thought brought him more sorrow than he could bear. Unfortunately for their young plaything, he felt nothing remotely akin to sorrow.

\"She\'ll play, Rodolphus, they always do,\" Bellatrix purred, moving at last to join him by the girl’s side. Rodolphus felt himself growing hard beneath his robes, and he reached out to caress his wife\'s arm. She arched under his caress sensuously, purring like a cat.

\"So we meet the infamous Miss Granger at last,\" he said gently, moving the hood from Bella\'s face and freeing all of that glorious dark hair. His hands moved roughly through it, and he smiled softly at her shudder of pleasure.

He removed her mask, setting it aside gently. Her face was flushed with excitement, dark eyes gleaming in her face. Their tenure in prison had stripped the lush beauty from his wife\'s face and figure, but what was left was infinitely more seductive to him. Azkaban and a life of service to Voldemort had transformed her into some avatar of destruction, and she faintly crackled with sin and darkness. It was as if, when he thrust inside her, he was taking Death itself.

He pulled her towards him and kissed her--his mouth eager on hers, but the kiss was soft, loving, imbued with all the things he felt towards her and her alone since the night they brought her to him, here in this very chamber. She had fought him like a wildcat, but had purred underneath him in pleasure before it was over. She had been sworn to Voldemort from that night forward. He stepped out of her embrace, removing his thoughts from the past and concentrating on the task at hand.

The central chamber was empty save for the three of them, and the Dark Lord who remained seated on his throne. The torches next to his throne had been extinguished, plunging him into darkness, and he said nothing, waiting for their first act as an audience of a play about to be performed for the first time.

Rodolphus smiled chillingly. There was a flash of red in the dark--his eyes could not be banked, those ruby fires glowed hot and deadly. The sight would be more terrifying than the Dark Lord in all his serpentine glory. Everyone feared what was in the dark.

Except for us, Rodolphus thought smugly. We are the things to be feared in the darkness. He turned her attention to the young girl, shaking on the floor as if she was trying to disappear.

\"This will not do,\" Rodolphus said quietly, shaking his head. At the quietly concerned tone in his voice, Bellatrix moaned with excitement. He turned and bowed towards the darkness, saying in a respectful tone, \"perhaps his lordship would be so kind as to furnish something more comfortable upon which we might perform our duty?\"

Voldemort made no sound, but a bed appeared in the center of the room. There were a variety of shackles on the iron posts and seeing them, Bellatrix ran her tongue over her lips.

Rodolphus leaned down and spoke gently to the girl on the floor, who stared up at him, wary and mistrustful. \"Up you go,\" he murmured, pulling Hermione to her feet abruptly. She yelped; the harshness of his movement was at odds with the gentle tone of voice. Unceremoniously, he tossed her on the bed.

The chains affixed to the bedposts transformed slightly as she was placed on the bed, shackling her to the iron posts of the bed. Rodolphus sat next to her and looked down into her frightened face, his beatific smile nearly giving him the appearance of an angel. His eyes looked anything but angelic though; they had a strange dead quality, as if there was no soul behind them.

If I am an angel, O, how I have fallen….

Bellatrix join them, standing behind Rodolphus and putting her hands on his shoulders. It was a bizarre picture they made, as if they were posing for some gruesome family photo.
Bllatrix leaned over, drawing her hands down Hermione’s trembling body. The touch was light but her sharp, manicured nails left welts on the pale skin of Hermione’s torso. Hermione caught her lip between her teeth, shuddering.

\"You are so afraid,\" Bellatrix purred, crawling on the bed like some kind of sinister cat. Her eyes were wild and manic as they leisurely traveled over her. \"Can you feel how delicious her fear is, Rodolphus?\" Bellatrix said, leaning back on her haunches, her gaze a palpable caress.

\"Oh, yes,\" Rodolphus said, smiling.

\"Cut off her clothes,\" Voldemort hissed from the darkness, crimson eyes unblinking.

Rodolphus pulled a long, thin knife from his robes no comma and held it out, hilt first, to Bellatrix. Smiling, she took it from him and crawled up over Hermione, who was trembling like a leaf in a rainstorm.

\"This won\'t hurt...much,\" purred Bellatrix, as she ran the knife down the front of Hermione\'s robes. The younger woman squirmed a bit.

\"Don\'t move, pet,\" Rodolphus whispered, \"she\'s liable to cut you, and trust me, the sight of fresh blood only makes her want more.\"

Bellatrix looked up from her task and licked her lips. \"Too true,\" she said huskily, and continued her wicked work with the knife. She was inordinately skilled as she used the blade, nicking Hermione\'s skin only a few times, and that was most likely done on purpose. She ran the flat of the blade down Hermione’s stomach, and the younger woman squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head.

“Now, now, pet,” Rodolphus said silkily. “We can’t have that.” He murmured a charm, and Hermione’s eyes flew open as she found herself unable to move her head or shut her eyes.

“No,” she gasped out, horrified.

Bellatrix laughed, placing the knife out of the way and moving up her body in a slow crawl. She leaned down and traced her mouth down the girl’s neck, pausing where her blood beat frantically through her veins. “Mmmm,” Bellatrix murmured, running her tongue over the pulse point.

Rodolphus ran his hands lightly up Bellatrix’s back. “Relax, pet. She’s very, very good with her mouth…” The two shared a low, husky, intimate laugh, the kind shared between lovers and seemingly out of place in this chamber of depravity.

Hermione was breathing rapidly, her hands fisting and relaxing against the mattress, and in the darkness, Voldemort’s laugh was a hiss.

Bellatrix moved to capture Hermione’s lower lip between her teeth, biting gently. Her hands were moving over the other woman’s body, touching her smooth stomach and her arms. “Such soft skin,” Bellatrix murmured. Hermione was watching her captor warily, no doubt confused by the bizarre gentleness of Bellatrix’s behavior.

Rodolphus could have told her not to become used to that as Bellatrix seldom remained gentle. Sure enough, a moment later his wife’s eyes darkened, and she grabbed the young girl’s arms in a bruising grip.

“I had such smooth skin when I was your age, too,” she purred, pulling the sleeve of her robe up. Bellatrix stared down at her Dark Mark with a smile of pure pride.

“Would you like to Mark her, my lord?” Bellatrix cooed, running her sharp nails down Hermione’s forearm.

“I shall enjoy watching you and Rodolphus mark her, Bella,” the Dark Lord hissed, and Hermione’s heart beat sped up. “Perhaps when you are finished, I too shall give her my Mark. If you have broken her to my satisfaction, if she is…worthy of me.”

Bellatrix laughed, tossing her dark hair, and the movement made her look almost girlish. She looked down into Hermione’s frightened eyes, one hand sliding down her stomach. “You should be honored, girl,” she said in a dark voice. “It feels so good, when the Dark Lord marks you….you’ll see, my pet. Won’t she, Rodolphus?”

Hermione sobbed something when Rodolphus murmured his assent as he joined them on the bed. Rodolphus and Bellatrix shared a kiss more akin to biting at each other’s mouths than true kissing. Bella’s hand rested on Hermione’s inner thigh, and her nails dug painfully into the pristine skin as Rodolphus’ tongue lashed against hers.

He broke the kiss, his hands divesting Bellatrix of her robe, showing her nudity underneath. He pushed her back to lie next to Hermione and smiled cruelly at the two women splayed for his pleasure on the bed. One trembled with fright, the remnants of her garments clinging to her sweat-soaked skin, while the other was flushed and eager, delete with her hand leaving bruises on Hermione’s skin.

Rodolphus pulled his robe off, leaving him in nothing but a shirt and trousers. “What would you have me do with my women, dread lord?” He traced a hand over Hermione’s breast and the girl shuddered while Bella’s breath caught in a moan.

“I want you to break the one, Rodolphus, and use the other for your pleasure.”
Bellatrix laughed, her hand already moving between her thighs. Rodolphus smacked her fingers and growled, “I did not say you could touch yourself,” and she pouted but ceased her movements. “You heard the Dread Lord—you are here for my pleasure, to be used.”

“Perhaps he wants you to use her for your pleasure, and break me,” Bellatrix purred, legs shifting restlessly under his gaze.

“You have already been broken a dozen times for my enjoyment, my Bellatrix,” Voldemort said in the darkness, a terrible excitement in his voice. “I am always amendable, however, to seeing it again. Break them both, Rodolphus, and earn my favor.”

“As my lord commands,” he murmured, smiling in anticipation. He’d been the one to break Bellatrix, so many years ago, and she was always so eager to repeat the experience.

He moved to trail his lips up the smooth column of Hermione’s throat, and said huskily, “You’ll like it, pet. Bellatrix always has.”

“I’m…not…her,” Hermione choked out, and at the ire in her eyes, he felt his body tighten.

Bellatrix giggled next to him on the bed. “Oh, good. Rodolphus doesn’t like them when they’re quiet,” she said, retrieving the knife from delete the bed where she’d laid it down earlier. She slid it expertly under Hermione’s bra, cutting the fabric off and revealing pert, young breasts. The cold air of the chamber hardened her nipples and Bella licked one slowly.

Rodolphus put his mouth next to the girl’s ear as he trailed a hand down her body, where Bellatrix was expertly divesting Hermione of her knickers with the knife. Hermione sucked in a breath in terrified anticipation. “No, you’re not her yet,” he agreed. “But if you’re very, very good….perhaps you will be.”

Bellatrix ran the cold blade between Hermione’s thighs, and the girl shifted slightly, a flush coming to her cheeks.

“Let yourself go, pet. The darkness is so seductive…let it embrace you….” He ran his tongue across the sensitive skin of her inner ear no comma and smiled when he heard the faintest of moans escape the younger woman’s lips.

He was fairly sure he knew what his wife was doing with her fingers, what was making their captive thrash slightly on the bed. Bellatrix has learned much since she lay beneath me on this bed so many years ago.

He trailed his own hand down Hermione’s body to find Bellatrix’s fingers busily stroking and placed his own hand on top of hers. He raised his eyes and met his wife’s dark gaze; they smiled in tandem and turned their attention back to the nubile, untutored body lying beneath them. Together, they rubbed her and stroked her until the sounds escaping her lips were not as terrified as they had been, but spoke of a growing, dark desire the girl was helpless to fight.

“I think she’s enjoying this, Rodolphus,” Bellatrix murmured, eyes on Hermione. The young girl had rolled her eyes back into her head, and her hips were tilting up slightly as if she were seeking out the attention of their combined fingers.

“Are you, pet? Do you like what we are doing to you, how we are touching you? You’re wet, do you know what that means?” Rodolphus’ voice was gentle but firm. “Tell her, Bellatrix, tell her what that means.”

“It means, pet,” Bellatrix said, breaking away to slide down Hermione’s body, kissing her way down the girl’s stomach, “that your fear is turning into something else, something more delicious.”

Rodolphus watched with a heavy-lidded, sleepy gaze as Bellatrix kissed Hermione between her thighs causing the girl to buck on the bed, a strangled “oh!” escaping her lips.

Voldemort, eyes glowing, said in a soft voice, “Make her beg, Bella.”

Like a cat, Bellatrix arched her back and purred at the command. “Do you want to come, pet?” She licked her again, Hermione was biting down on her lip as if trying to stop from speaking delete dash or crying out in pleasure as Bella’s wicked tongue stroked her expertly.

“Don’t be afraid,” Rodolphus said. His hands were stroking her breasts, he wondered if she even knew she was twisting in something other than anguish beneath them. “Fear makes desire so much more beautiful, don’t you think? Beg her, my pet. Let me hear you.” His voice was insistent and still strangely gentle.

Hermione sobbed something, but it was incomprehensible to any ears but her own. Bellatrix did not cease in her torment, and Rodolphus grasped Hermione’s legs and pulled them slowly apart to allow Bellatrix better access, meeting little resistance as he did so.

“What was that, pet? I don’t believe I heard you.” He ran his hands down Bellatrix’s back, which arched beautifully as she skillfully worked between Hermione’s thighs.

“Please,” Hermione gasped, the word sounding as if was ripped out of her very soul.

Rodolphus smiled. “Good girl. Our little pet learns well, Bella. Show her how merciful we can be.”

He watched Hermione’s face, so he did not see what Bellatrix did to make Hermione shriek and sob as release tore through her, but he was familiar with his wife’s wicked tongue.

He stroked a hand down Hermione’s flushed body, gently wiping her brow where her hair clung to her face in sweaty strands.

“Did you break her, Rodolphus?” Voldemort’s voice was tinged with a dark amusement.

“Almost,” he said.

*****

Later, he removed the charm holding her eyes and her head, because he liked the way she thrashed as she came. Plus, it was easier to straddle her, pushing himself into her mouth while Bellatrix pleasured her.

She was trembling now from desire, as she flexed her hands against the bindings there was a quiet satisfaction in the gesture. He was a genius at discerning these small gestures, and while he took Bellatrix from behind as they lie next to her, he said to her, “it feels so good, to let go, doesn’t it? Now you know why we take the Mark.”

She didn’t answer, but her eyes had strayed, and she had watched him fuck his wife, biting on her lip and twining on the bed as if she were searching for some elusive pleasure. He had released one hand from where it was tangled in Bella’s hair, and placed it between her legs, roughly shoving his fingers into her. He brought them both to climax at the same time, a slow round of mocking applause from Voldemort serenading them in the darkness.

Bellatrix was all over her, trailing her hair down Hermione’s smooth skin, causing the young woman to sob and thrash even as she arched towards her tormentor. When tears leaked from her eyes, Bellatrix laughed delightedly and licked at them before kissing her.
It was intriguing, the way Hermione kissed Bellatrix back, as if she was trying desperately to forget where she was, what was happening to her.

I remember Bella, at your age, all fire and darkness beneath me…although she was never quite as innocent as you….

“Claim her, Rodolphus,” Voldemort hissed in the darkness, and he bowed his head in assent and moved his wife away from her. She growled playfully and scratched him, leaving red welts on his back causing him to sigh in pleasure.

“Mark him, pet, as I have,” Bellatrix whispered, settling down next to her. Hermione turned her head willingly, and they kissed, while Rodolphus moved between her thighs.

“Hermione,” he said, and at the sound of her name, the girl looked up, a hint of terror returning to those dark eyes that had slowly lost their glimmer of light. It was as if by saying her given name, he had pierced through that haze she had allowed herself to slip into. She pulled at her bindings, and he said, “Do you want me to untie your arms?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head on the pillow. Her voice sounded strange—excited, frightened, and determined all at once.

“Do you want me to take you?” he said, voice darkened in lust. Bellatrix moaned softly, her hand between her legs again as she pleasured herself. Rodolphus looked at her with a glare.

“Bellatrix,” he snapped in a stern voice. “Stop. I shall inform you when you may come. Do you understand me?”

“Too late,” she said with a manic laugh, her breathless cries echoing off the stone of the room.

“You shall be punished for that, Bellatrix,” the voice came from across the room, silky and threatening in the dark.

“Yes, please,” she moaned, and Rodolphus growled at her before turning his attention back to the woman who lay beneath him.

“Do you, pet? Shall I take you, mark you as mine—ours?” He was certain she knew he referred to himself, Bellatrix, and the dark one who watched from the shadows.

“Y—yes,” she sobbed. “Please!” Rodolphus smiled in triumph to see her thrashing in pleasure beneath him—she had fought hard, but each spark of pleasure both teased her and destroyed her. To give in to the delights of the flesh was to surrender to the darkness of the soul.

The Dark Lord hissed in the darkness. “Break her,” he said, voice eager, as if he could stand the torment no longer.

Rodolphus grasped her arms roughly where they were pinned by the invisible bindings above her head. “My pleasure,” he said, as he drove into her.

She cried out in pain, but the laugh that spilled immediately afterwards from her lips was reminiscent of Bella—wild and manic, suffused with lust.

He rested inside her for a moment, and their eyes met, and he began to take her, rough and urgent. The fresh, innocent young woman who had been given to them had been overcome by the creature of lust and passion they had skillfully created.

“Yes, Rodolphus,” Bellatrix said eagerly next to him, face flushed as she watched.

Hermione was thrusting up to meet him, cries spilling from her lips, and Bellatrix grabbed her wand and murmured a spell, freeing Hermione from the bonds holding her arms. She tossed them almost desperately around her lover, and Bellatrix moved behind Rodolphus, watching as her husband took possession of the now-freed younger woman.

There was silence for a moment as Bella rubbed herself against Rodolphus’ back, biting at his neck and whispering encouraging words in his ear. Every now and then, he would throw his head back, and they would kiss violently. Once, he bit her so hard blood spilled from her lip, and she smiled in delight.

“So close,” he whispered, smiling ruthlessly down at Hermione, gazing up at him with lust-drowned eyes. “Aren’t you…?”

“Yes!” Hermione cried, her eyes wild. Bellatrix left her position behind Rodolphus to kiss her, a slight bit of blood smearing on Hermione’s lips. The sight was incredibly arousing, and Rodolphus increased his pace, rocking furiously inside her.

“Your arm, Hermione,” a voice said, and Rodolphus looked up to see the Dark Lord, still shrouded in darkness and hooded, crimson eyes glowing brightly, standing behind the bed.

“Give him your arm,” Rodolphus bit out, feeling his body nearing the edge, feeling her inner muscles spasming around him. He gritted his teeth and pushed violently into her, wanting her pain and her pleasure to overwhelm them both.

“Let him Mark you, pet, we know you want it,” Bellatrix whispered. Her hands moved over her body, and seeing the knife in his wife’s hands, Rodolphus wondered if she would cut herself in her pleasure—it would not be the first time. Her inner thighs were marked with scars from such cuts. “You have been broken, and now it is time to be reborn…”

Hermione moaned, and flung her arm back towards that dark, sibilant voice.

Bella moved, the knife between her legs, caressing her skin with the point of the blade as she watched the Dark Lord catch Hermione’s arm and wrap his cold, cold fingers around her skin. He stroked his fingers down her forearm, hissing slightly. “Such soft skin…just like yours was, Bellatrix….”

Voldemort placed his wand on Hermione’s skin no comma and murmured the incantation quietly. There was a flare, and the skin of her arm burned as the mark was seared into her flesh.

Beneath him, Hermione tensed and screamed, yet her body tightened around his as she came. It forced his release, and he came inside her to the sound of the Dark Lord’s triumphant laugh. Bellatrix moaned next to him, blood on her thighs as she fell back on the bed.

There was silence in the room, heady with the smell of sex and blood, darkness and death swirling in the air around them. Their breathing was harsh and ragged, all staring at the Dark Mark on the newest Death Eater with a grim smile.

Voldemort moved away from the bed delete comma and stroked a hand down Hermione’s hair. “You have indeed broken her. This is a most fortuitous victory,” Voldemort murmured, as Hermione rubbed her face against his cold hand. His voice pulsed with a dark satisfaction and a terrible eagerness, as if their show had aroused desires he wished to sate with the newest member of his dark army.

Voldemort caught Hermione’s chin and peered down into her chocolate eyes, which were glowing with satisfaction and repletion. “My Death Eaters have broken you, Hermione. Now, you are mine.”

She looked up at him and sighed, but said nothing in return.

There was a strange look on the Dark Lord’s face, an odd gleam in his eyes Rodolphus had never seen before. He extricated himself from Hermione’s embrace, noting the blood on her thighs, eerily mimicking the blood between Bellatrix’s legs. His body stirred once more at the sight.

Rodolphus drew Bellatrix to him, and they watched as the Dark Lord pulled Hermione to her feet, and led her into the shadows, murmuring quietly. They heard her laugh in the darkness, and Bellatrix turned to him with a smile.

“It seems our pet is to be the favored one of the Dark Lord,” she murmured, crawling up his body. Her blood seeped onto his skin, and he rubbed himself against her.

From the darkness, they heard the Dark Lord say in a breathless voice, “Do not forget, Rodolphus, to punish your wife for her willfulness.”

They heard a slight whimper in the darkness behind them, and a hushed laugh, and then they heard no more.

Rodolphus smiled down at her, hands going to push her arms back against the bedpost. “I shall obey your command, my lord,” he purred, and captured her mouth with his own, his fingers tracing the Mark on her arm lightly, the gesture reverent.