Bellatrix Black and I never dated. We never wanted to because we couldn't stand each other. But we did have our own sort of relationship during our time at Hogwarts. It was defined by aggressive kissing and our occasional quick fuck in a broom closet or against one of the walls in the Shrieking Shack which we always sneaked into on Hogsmead weekends.

Only twice, we'd used a bed in the Room of Requirement. But that was too cliche. We wanted rough and vulgar and as improper as possible. She had on and off relationships with several boys including Rodolphus Lestrange and I was dating an attractive and naive blonde a year younger than her. We were never jealous of each other's romances. And we never talked about anything. What we understood about each other was unspoken but it was strong enough to keep us connected for some time.

Now, we were adults, we were both married and what we had was the perfect affair. Perfect because there were few risks and absolutely no attachments. It was strictly about the sex. We closed our senses to everything but our animalistic needs and passions. I didn't care whose name she moaned and she didn't care who I pretended she was.

Most of the time I didn't even bother pretending, she was perfectly desirable in her own right. I wouldn't want to live with her, but fucking her as much as I pleased was a fun idea. I'd never tell her that though, it would ruin everything we had.

Sometimes, I could get her to moan my name or even scream it. But, mostly, it was Lestrange's, because I did things she wished her husband would do to her. I asked her about that once, breaking our "no talking" rule.

It didn't make sense. Everyone knew that Rodolphus loved Bellatrix and would do anything for her. She never would have married him if he didn't please her, so he must have. In fact, I was convinced that he was her little sex slave or something, because I'd seen him wearing a dog collar with a little gold charm that said, "Bella's." Why, then, were we having this affair? I knew my reasons, but hers were unclear.

"Because," She surprised me by answering my question. "I need someone who isn't so... loving. And you need someone who isn't so stupid."

That blunt insult was accurate. My wife was indeed stupid. She knew I wasn't "on a mission for the Dark Lord" and she ignored that truth because she was pathetic. We hated each other. She was ridiculously annoying, and I, apparently, was "abusive." Whatever romance we'd had was dead. We tolerated each other, that was all. If she got too annoying, I'd hit her and things would go back to normal, that was the extent of our relationship.

A week or so after that conversation, Bellatrix and I were under a blanket on her couch, undressing each other when her sister walked in on us. Narcissa needed exactly five seconds to realize that I wasn't Rodolphus and then she ran from the room. Bellatrix sighed then pushed me off her and started redressing.

"What?" I protested.

"We got caught," She said, kissing me briefly. "It wouldn't be fun anymore."

I pulled her aside after our Death Eater meeting the next day and asked if she ever wanted to "get together" again. She just shrugged innocently but that really was the end of it.

Soon afterward, the Dark Lord fell and the Aurors came for us. I chose to fight but I was distracted. For some reason, all I could think about was Bellatrix. She couldn't know how I really felt about her because I'd just recently realized it myself. But I wondered if she'd been caught, if she was fighting, if she...

My last thought was about her.