Greyback knew the female was up to something. She was being pleasant. Pleasant for Bellatrix was nearly indistinguishable from viciously insane, but Greyback was a man that could appreciate subtle gradations; his wolf instincts could, for instance, tell the difference between the musk of a fox and the musk of a vixen, and whether one of them was wounded, and whether they would die.

So when he approached her room and smelt the other man, he was not surprised. Angry, but not surprised. He wondered how monumentally stupid she really thought he was. Still, playing along might prove a lark. He cracked the door and slid inside as softly as possible.

She was stretched across the bed, clad in drawers and camisole, little bare foot bobbing gently as she swung her leg. He closed the door behind himself and waited expectantly.

She ignored him. Hands behind her head, Bellatrix studied the ceiling, pointedly pretending not to see the wolf man, erection tenting his trousers. He cleared his throat and she yawned loudly, not even bothering to cover her mouth.

He sat beside her on the bed and let his hand rest on her neck as the other stroked himself through his trousers.

"Oh. You again. What is it this time?"

As she spoke she opened her legs slightly and reached down to toy with her drawstring, teasing him with a flash of wiry black hair. He could smell the other man's sweat under the bed, oily and thin, with dandruffy hair and dirty fingernails.

Greyback stepped forward and smiled. "You have a visitor."

"What are you on about?"

In a single movement, Greyback bent and hauled Peter Pettigrew from under the bed, stubby legs kicking violently. He didn't even pause; going to the window, he spelled it open and dropped the man from the third floor window.

Transforming into a rat, Pettigrew weathered the landing and found a bolt hole, climbing inside with a squeak. Upstairs, Greyback dodged as Bellatrix threw a hex at him. He lunged, clearing the night stand and landing atop her with a hard, racheting screech of bedsprings.

"Something you wished to tell me?"

"Gerroff! You're hurting me!"

"Not like I will be." He pressed his mouth to her neck and tasted her skin, fear and anger and a hint of lust. Most interesting, that last one.

Bellatrix pounded at the wolf man's chest, swearing futilely and trying to get enough air to scream. He pressed her more tightly to the mattress, grinning down with sharp brown teeth.

"I thought we'd talked about respecting my authority, Trixie."


His ears ringing, Greyback kept her under him, emphasizing her submission and vulnerability, her weakness in the face of his greater strength. Bellatrix kicked, uselessly trying something, anything, to get him off.

To her surprise, he rose and stared down as she flew up and made for her wand, sitting on the night stand, and from then toward the door and freedom. Greyback watched, amused, as she tried to snatch her wand, knocked it off in a panic and managed to grab it and sprint for the door.

Pulling the door open, Bellatrix sped out of the room and down the corridor, trying to make for the stairs. She was close—close enough to smell the food that had cooked in the kitchen, close enough to see the tatty carpet on the stairs, when she felt a huge, hot hand close around her upper arm and jerked her back.

She flailed, trying to claw with her nails and kick backward, only to be lifted, spun and put over his shoulder like a child. "SET ME DOWN!'

The room had been silenced but the corridor was not. From down the hall, Rodolphus popped his head out in time to see his wife, clad in her underclothes, being forcibly carried to her room by her mad lover.

He raised an eyebrow. Greyback smiled menacingly and continued to drag the shrieking, protesting Bellatrix toward the room.


Greyback never stopped walking. "Just a spat, Lestrange. You shouldn't get involved."

"Quite' said the man, and closed his door with a determined 'thunk'.

Greyback didn't let go of Bellatrix until they were in the room, door warded to prevent escape and, after a second's thought, the window as well. Greyback dropped the yowling, raging female on the bed and laughed at her, pinning her to the bed as easily as he would a kitten.

"That'll cost you, Bell." He spent a moment reconstructing the room, checking what he had to work with. His eyes lit up and he smiled terribly as he found something he could use.

"Accio' he sat down on the bed, hauling the fighting, kicking woman across his lap and depositing her face down, using his wand to stick her stomach to his thighs. Still chuckling, he tugged her drawers down and waited.


"Can't stop me."

She kicked harder, trying to push herself up with her hands. He cracked a hand down, hard, and listened with pleasure as she yelped with pain and resumed her attempts to escape.


"What if I won't, Bellatrix? What do you think you'll do it?"


"What's not right? I'm blistering your arse for you because it gets your attention."


"No? Your husband doesn't have any interest. I'd say he's relinquished his claim, wouldn't you?"


"Not how I read the situation. Seems to me I'm the only one who bothers to rein you in."

She wailed fruitless threats of vengeance as he used his elbow to lightly push her head into the mattress and tilted up his knee for better access to her sit spots.


"Sorry, Trixie, what was that?"


"Yeah? Means it's working."

Bellatrix bit her lip hard to keep her sobs in check. She was breathing hard, her legs hurt from Greyback's hold on her and her wrist was numb from the way he was pinning it. But she'd be damned if the wolf man saw her cry again.

Greyback knew what she was doing. With another few hard smacks to her sit spots, he set her to her feet "Hairbrush is on the dresser."


"I don't remember asking, Trixie."


He laughed and lifted her, easily as a child, to dangle at his eye level. "What don't you understand, Bellatrix? ..Here."

"I never meant--"

"But you let me fuck you. That was enough."

Now she did start to cry, but it was anger. Tears running down her cheeks, she grabbed the brush from the dresser and thrust it at him, not noticing or caring that she was half nude.

Greyback jerked her back across his lap and angled her up just right. He picked up the brush and snorted loudly. "What's this, then?"

From across his lap, Bellatrix lifted her head. "How should I know?"

CRACK! "Mind the tone, Bells. It could always be worse." He swung the brush around a bit, feeling how insubstantial it was in his hands, how funny it smelt. Filthy stupid muggles; they seemed bizarrely intent on separating themselves from everything natural.

Well, needs must is needs must. He brought it down sharply half a dozen times on each side, relishing her squeals of pain and anger. The thing was simply not substantial enough for his needs.

Throwing the muggle brush aside, Greyback stood Bellatrix on her feet and tugged her drawers up. "Hold them, Bells, we're not half finished."

Bellatrix took firm hold and submitted to being dragged down the hall. Greyback knocked on the door and Rodolphus' head poked out. "Er…hello?"

"Lestrange. Bellatrix here would like you ask you a question."

Rodolphus' wife turned and hissed something that he didn't catch. Greyback, with his sharp senses, did, and gave her a firm whack on the backside. "Ask him for something I can use on you, of course."

Bellatrix's reply was profane enough to shock a troll. Rodolphus made a face indicative of his well bred surprise, while Greyback took a more direct route, tucking Bellatrix under his arm and giving her several sharp smacks on the backside, which, Rodolphus couldn't help but note, was quite pink already.


"Ready to ask nicely?"


Greyback stopped. "Go on, then, Trixie." Bellatrix sniffled and turned to her husband. "Would you give him something, already?"

"Ah ah, Trixie, I said nicely." She was tucked up and whacked again, flailing helplessly against the werewolf. Greyback smiled nastily over the woman's howls. "Well, Lestrange?"

"I…let me see." He stepped back into the room and looked, hoping he had something that would drive the maniacs away. Stepping into the bathroom, his eyes lit on something hanging from a hook, a sort of long strap with a handle. He seized it and held it out to the werewolf.

"Anything else?"

"What do you say, Bellatrix?"


CRACK! The strap swung in an arc and smacked the back of Bellatrix's thighs, nearly doubling her over with pain. She wailed, and Greyback simply picked her up and carried her back into her room. "Much obliged, Lestrange."

Rodolphus nodded and calmly closed his door. Over twenty years of marriage and this was the only time Trixie had held any savour for him at all. And the wolfman had her! Cursing the irony, he went to shower instead.

Bellatrix bounced in place, howling and clutching the firey band on the backs of both thighs. "OWWWWWWWWWWW!HUUUURRTTTS!"

"Know what this is?"

"NO!" She couldn't believe he'd got her crying so quickly. She sobbed and tried to rub the horrible burning from her legs. Greyback took hold of her face and tilted it up. "What did I say about your tone?"

She drew back. "PLEAASE OWWWW!"

"A razor strop, they call this. Good for sharpening up razors…and adjusting attitudes, I'd say. Now, take the pillows and stack them at the side of the bed." Still crying, Bellatrix shoved the pillows into a crude hump, wondering what the wolf was up to.

Greyback picked his female (one of two, actually) up and draped her across the pillows, bum pointing to the ceiling, and yanked her drawers off so hard they parted under his hands like wet parchment.

Bellatrix shrieked. "NO NO MORE NO DON'T!"

"Don't what, Bellatrix?" Greyback leant against the headboard and smirked down. She looked good enough to eat, really, bent totally at his pleasure. Greyback imagined what it would be like once his new young female was there with them, and how it be, sleeping between the two.

"P-please don't smack me anymore."

"I dunno. Seems to me as you've not given me a choice. Conspiring with Wormtail and all…what'd you give the little bastard, anyhow?"

"Pair of my knickers."

Greyback snorted despite himself. "Really? That's rich. Not sure I like you handing out things like that, though."

Despite the pain she was, despite her enormous humiliation and the fact that most of the others must have heard her screams, Bellatrix had enough spirit to cock her head to the side and say haughtily "What do you care?"

His response was to pick up the strop and snap it crisply in the air. "That's for me to worry about, but in a moment you'll care very much."

Bellatrix started to protest but he cut her off by sticking her to the bed."All right, Bell, count them."


"Good girl."




"Missed one, Bell. Doesn't count. Next time we start over."









Greyback studied his work. From the middle of her arse to most of the way down to her knees, Bellatrix was a solid red. Her feet were kicking, and a few times she'd nearly come off the bed. Her hair was everywhere and it took nearly a minute for her howls to quiet into mere bawling.

"That cure the problem?"


"Going to try and go behind my back again?"


"Going to give Wormtail your frillies?"


Greyback let her finish her cry and then hauled her to her feet. "Corner, Bells, and hands on your head." Bellatrix did it without another word, grimly determined to survive this with as much dignity intact as possible. She leant her head against the cool wood of the house and vowed horrible, bloody revenge.

Greyback savoured watching the most feared Death Eater in Britain as she shifted foot to foot, danced a little in place, sighed, grumbled, and generally acted like a child. Her arse was absolutely glowing and she gave the occaisional sullen sniffle.

"Come here, Bellatrix, and I didn't say you could put your arms down." Greyback had pushed the pillows away from the side of the bed and more into the center, and he took a second to strip off the camisole before draping her over like he had before.

"No, not for that. Just want to make sure you get the point." He gently pushed her leg apart and traced a finger along her secret place. She gasped, driving her hips into the bed.

"I was going to mate with you, but…I don't think you deserve a treat. Think I'll leave you like this, instead. Pleasant sleep."

Bellatrix yelped, kicking. "You can't leave me this way!"

"Why not? It'll keep your mind on what happened."

"It's already on what happened. My arse is on fire."

"Not enough, apparently, if you can cheek me. Shall we have a talk about manners, Trixie?"

Bellatrix went rigid. "NO NO NO!"

"Think I'd shut it, then, don't you?"

Bellatrix closed her eyes and made herself think of anything beside her flaming hot backside. "Fine."

Greyback shucked his clothes and crawled in beside Bellatrix. "Night night." He lay on his back and breathed deeply. Her breathing was very nearly normal, and he could smell anger and arousal both, hot and thick.

"I hate you."

"I know." He opened one eye and smiled nastily at the female, whose eyes were drifting shut of their own accord. "But I'd find a smarter way to express it, or your arse'll be blistered more often than not. I'm not your idiot husband; I don't have to tolerate this shite."

Bellatrix said nothing. She was plotting. As she fell into a dreamless, exhausted sleep, the germ of an idea was planting itself. She smiled and let oblivion claim her.