Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. Honestly if I did, do you really think I would be writing fanfiction? Hell no! I'd be in the Bahamas or something. Anyway, read on!

The Dark Lord was talking but I barely heard him. I was watching my wife. Or at least the woman who claimed to be my wife. We both knew she was nothing more than a woman who shared my bed and name. Bellatrix was staring at our Lord intently and dreamily. She had the constant air of arrogance and power around her.


"My head snapped up at the sound of my name. "Yes, my Lord?" I asked. Shit I had been caught.

"There will be plenty of time to ogle your wife later, don't you think?" Lord Voldemort said with a hint of cruel amusement in his voice. The other Death Eaters snickered at me as well.

Bellatrix looked at me and scowled. Apparently her fantasy had been interrupted by my foolishness. I returned her glare before looking back at the Dark Lord.

"Of course, my apologies, my Lord," I said. Yeah right, like I would ever be allowed to ogle her.

I would never admit it, but sometimes I hated that man. The man who stole my wife from me. I had loved Bellatrix once, but I doubt she ever loved me. She only loved the Dark Lord and he didn't even return her feelings. That didn't stop him from tormenting me by claiming her though. They knew I knew and they didn't care. To Bella, Voldemort was the only wizard worth bedding. I was nothing to her. Our marriage had done nothing more than change her name. It was loveless and simply a requirement for her. I tried to make things work, but she wouldn't have it, and Bellatrix Black Lestrange would not be forced to do anything by anyone besides the man she loved, and that man was not me.

She knew he did not love her in return. The times they spent together were nothing more to him than keeping his tie with his most loyal servant strong. Sometimes it was to punish me, too. He had taken her numerous times in the night from our bed while we slept. There was always a smug look on both their faces the next time they saw me because they knew what it did to me.

I eventually got used to it. My love for my wife began to fade away, but that didn't keep me from being frustrated. The least she could do was bed me just to give me an heir, but she wouldn't do that. It was hard enough to get her to sleep in the same room as me, she would never let me touch her. She was married, but not to me. She loved and married Lord Voldemort and led me on because it was "expected of her".

I got angry with her once. I was a little drunk and I made a severe mistake.

'You love him, don't you?' I growled and grabbed her arm before she could move away from me as I advanced.

'Love who?' she asked and my grip on her pale skin tightened. She didn't respond to it as I figured she wouldn't. She didn't mind pain anymore. She told me that she used to, when she was young and foolish, but she had gotten through that. I wasn't sure what that meant, but the scars on her beautiful body provided enough to form a guess.

'Don't play stupid, woman!' I thundered and threw her against the wall, holding her there. 'The Dark Lord, you love him don't you?'

'And what if I do? What are you going to do about it?' she spat.

I threw her to the ground this time but still she showed no fear and got to her feet. She just stared at me without trying to flee or even backing up. She stood strong and held my gaze with matched intensity.

'More than me? More than your own husband?' I don't know if I was on the verge of tears then. I might have been, I was drunk after all.

She didn't even pause when she answered, 'Yes.'

It was the first and last time I ever struck her. She toppled back and I held her against the wall once again but this time by the throat. She smiled and laughed and I pulled her away only to slam her back.

'Why are you laughing?' I demanded.

'You can't kill me, Rodolphus. He may not love me, but he would kill you anyway,' she laughed.

I released her and slapped her so hard she lost her balance and fell to the ground. I pointed my wand at her and shouted, 'Crucio!' But it was fairly ineffective. Not only was she practically numb to any pain I could deliver, I didn't actually want to hurt her. I couldn't, I still loved her. But she made it very clear that she did not love me when her curse struck me. I buckled to the ground and howled in pain as she stood over me, that wicked smile I had also grown to love plastered on her face. I knew she liked seeing me in pain, whether physical or emotional and at the time I was in both.

That curse was so strong, I know it was stronger than mine had ever been even on people I truly hated. I don't know for sure just what happened to make her be able to hate and want to hurt so much that the curse was so effective. Maybe it was from so much practice. It was her favorite. I always knew she was strong, but this was too much. I had asked her once why she loved torture so much, but she didn't tell me. She never told me anything. I was no one to her and she was making sure I knew that.

'You know you're nothing to him, too,' I panted when she finally lifted the curse.

'Not exactly, you see, otherwise I'd be just as low as you are,' she corrected with another laugh.

I knew that. Without her, I would probably not even be as high as I was. My success simply rode on her success' coat tails. She was his favorite, everyone knew that. She would do absolutely anything for him…or to him.

'Didn't you ever once love me? Just a little bit?' I asked though I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.

'No. Why should I? You're weak compared to him and compared to, well, me. Why should I settle for you?' Again she said it without hesitating. Couldn't she just humor me by hesitating once? Couldn't she at least pretend she had to think about it? Pretend that there had been a time or two that she cared? No, because love was useless to her except when it came to her fucking Lord. She didn't need love though she knew she could feel it. She just never felt it for me. I wasn't good enough for her.

That was the first time I ever thought I might hate my wife and my Lord, but those feelings were quickly washed away. I wouldn't survive long here thinking like that. But I saw the way she looked at him and the glances he occasionally shot her. He did it much more inconspicuously than she did.

Everyone knew how she felt about him. Even now during this meeting she was not even trying to hide the dreamy look in her eyes as she listened to him. That made it hurt all the worse because she didn't care enough about me to even try to spare me in some way. The only reason he even hid it was because he was more reserved about it. Those god forsaken looks made me the hind end of many jokes. To think that my wife did not love me, would not bed me even to simply produce an heir, and chose instead to be the heartless bastard's mistress, it was humiliating.

As I watched her fantasies play out in her mind and the occasional time he would meet her gaze for only a moment, I started wondering how long it would be before he started wearing her around his neck instead of his precious snake. I could see her now, perched across his shoulders, them both hissing laughter at me as they walked by. It stung, it truly did.

When she agreed to marry me it was the happiest moment of my life. I imagined our life together, but she had other plans. And Bellatrix Black Lestrange gets her way. This was how she repaid my love. I really had a right to hate her, to want to kill her. Sometimes I thought about it. How bad would it be to live without her? But it would be a short life for me and who's to say I could even succeed. And if I failed, she wouldn't. That woman made my life a Hell.

But still…I loved her.

This story just sort of came to me and I decided to write it down. Sorry if you guys don't like the way I portrayed the relationships but it made sense to me. I might do a side for Bellatrix to. Until then, Bellatrix is the coolest ever!