Bellatrix didn't care what had happened the night before. This headache wasn't worth it.
Yes, the night had been fun. Disturbing in a way only Lucius could make it, but fun nevertheless. Fun. Enjoyment. A concept one wouldn't normally use to describe what Death Eaters did on a Wednesday night, but the previous night hadn't been the usual entertainment, had it? Her brother-in-law had gotten a little heavy-handed with the mead and firewhiskey, a few drinking games had ensued and before Bellatrix knew it, she and the blonde bastard had made it upstairs to play.
And oh, had they played. She had to give it to Narcissa. Bella had always believed the man her sister married was a flamboyant weakling; the only thing he loved more than power was the sight of his own smug reflection—and apparently, a good spanking. But Bella hadn't had the first idea he could be so…forceful when he needed to be.
She opened her eyes and winced at the brightness of the sunlight coming through the window. If she could reach her wand, she'd conjure a dark curtain for that thing. No. Scratch that. If she could reach her wand, she'd undo the cuffs currently holding her numb hands to the curving dark cherry headboard. It was bad enough that she'd been eager to be put in them in the first place, but even in the cold light of day, she couldn't shake the exhilaration that came from feeling helpless in her brother-in-law's bed. Even the sight of her mussed and weary reflection in the mirror hovering feet over her did nothing but set a tingle at the base of her spine. That wasn't the only thing still tingling.
It was all Harry's fault.
Bella felt comfortable using him as an excuse; the Dark Lord did it often enough. Death Eaters were arrested after the Department of Mysteries fiasco? Harry's fault. The Ministry getting close to clamping down on the lot of them? Blame the boy. Bellatrix Lestrange screaming like a banshee had possessed her while her brother-in-law showed her how wands were meant to be used? Far too many shots of Ogden's. Oh, and Harry's fault. More specifically, his eyes.
She couldn't recall exactly whose idea it had been, but that hardly mattered after a while. Bella didn't question why Draco kept a vial of black hairs from a certain schoolmate in his bedroom. Nor did Bellatrix question why Lucius seemed so eager to down the cup of golden Harry-infused Polyjuice Potion. Or why Draco had insisted on sitting in the corner to watch the doings as if he'd done it dozens of times before.
She just knew when Lucius had bent before her, pouted and presented himself for punishment, those bright green eyes twinkling, giving it everything she had didn't require a second's thought. Of course, part of her excuse was that she'd been drunk on enough firewhiskey to keep the Hog's Head's regulars tipsy for a week. Lucius? Had barely downed two drinks in her sightline. Her dear voyeuristic nephew? Not a drop, though he had recently come of age. Instead, he'd contented himself with lurking in the corner after the bright idea of a Harry torture session was suggested.
Bellatrix wiggled one hand. Such a crude Muggle device, these constricting metal bracelets. Most likely the same pairs she'd gotten her nephew on a whim for his sixteenth birthday. If she'd known she could get so much enjoyment out of the things, she might have purchased a pair or two for herself. Not that she'd use them with her own husband. Perhaps she'd ask the Dark Lord about it when he arrived later for the meeting. If Lucius came up to release her by then.
She shifted in the bed and winced. Maybe Lucius hadn't released her yet because he was still in bed, sore the way she was. Though, probably not in the same places. Then again… Not that Bella could remember everything clearly. After she'd started spanking Lucius, she wasn't aware of too much else but the thwack of her hand against his surprisingly soft skin and the strange gasping sounds Draco began making somewhere out of her sight. By the time she'd vaguely heard Narcissa say something to Draco about "being a very bad boy," Bellatrix had been thinking of little else but turning her green-eyed captive around and allowing him to take his revenge out on her for every torture she'd attempted on him the last time they'd met.
Boy, she'd had entirely too much to drink. If her current headache didn't prove that, the begging and crying she'd done when Harry—no, wait, Lucius—had taken her should've driven that fact home. In spite of her sober mortification, Bellatrix had to admit to herself, it hadn't been all that bad. He was skinny for almost seventeen, but there was something about Harry's body she'd missed from being with her own husband for so long. That might be why she let Lucius try things with her Rodolphus couldn't even dream about. And he'd taken her places her husband couldn't without an Engorgement Charm and several doses of a Euphoria Elixir.
Was it strange that Lucius had insisted on being called Harry the whole time? Well, yes. Did she mind screaming out that name instead of the real one? Surprisingly, no. She'd screamed his name enough in anger that putting another kind of passion behind it was startlingly easy.
This was embarrassing. How would she get up the nerve to torture that scarred brat when she saw him in a few days if all she could think of was the way it had felt to have him inside her? Never mind that it hadn't really been Harry. Bellatrix could not allow herself to feel any weakness for him, even in private. Damn Lucius for doing this to her. She'd have to hurt him later. Assuming she could trust herself not to enjoy it too much.
Bella shifted in the bed again and frowned when a thought occurred to her. The damned house-elf Narcissa had acquired for her son. Not that she could be blamed for forgetting. The creature had only been in the household since Draco had come home from Hogwarts, not even two months previous, and could hardly be seen even when she was serving. Bella had to see about getting her own house-elf that could manage to carry a tray and remain practically invisible. Once she was out of this mess, she decided.
"Ginny!" Bellatrix cleared her throat. She'd have to be louder than that hoarse whisper to be heard. She repeated the house-elf's name and then relaxed when the servant appeared before her silently, her head bowed.
"Would Miss be wanting breakfast?" she asked in her squeaky voice.
"No," Bellatrix said. The thought of food right now threatened to turn her stomach. "I need you to let me out of these," she said. She wiggled her hands in the cuffs for emphasis.
"Ginny…Ginny cannot Mistress Bella," the house-elf stuttered. She turned her large brown eyes downward and affected a small pout. One of her ears twitched as she began trembling.
"Why?" Bella asked, her voice dropping into a low timbre.
"Master says Ginny cannot let Mistress go until she…fully recognizes her new Master," she whispered.
Bella closed her eyes and was confronted with a vision of a pair of laughing green eyes and messy hair dancing over her as she climaxed. She squeezed her suddenly shaking legs together and her nipples hardened at the brief thought. Oh, she'd been overtaken by someone. Just not who Lucius might have wanted.
Unless that's exactly what he wanted. She'd seriously underestimated her brother-in-law's sickness. And it was the hottest thing she'd experienced in her life.