Forgive and Forget and Forgotten
A HariPo fanfiction
Note: These characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, not me. This pairing –while written by me –belongs to Morghen and is for Mew and Morghen's Weird Pairings, a sub-topic found in my topic in the HPFC here (Just take out the spaces!): http : // forum. fanfiction. net/ topic /44309 /25299326 /1/ Read, review, and enjoy! And check out and join the forum challenge!
"Women are made to be loved, not understood." –Oscar Wilde
"Get him to Snape. He'll heal him."
"Why should we bother? He's an agent of the Order."
"Making him valuable. I agree, have Snape heal him."
"I disagree. We should kill him now before he has the chance to escape and reveal the whereabouts of-"
"Oh, shut it. Why don't you sod off, you?" There was a scoff. "He's been scratched. Yeah, Greyback hadn't been transformed, but he might still be useful to us. His new wolfish side could be…an advantage."
"Stop looking at him with that glint in your eye, Bellatrix. He's our prisoner."
"And therefore my plaything," Bill heard her breathe. Judging by the others' conversation, they had not heard her. No one but Bill had heard her.
The eldest Weasley son silently groaned and wished he could cover his face. He couldn't open his eyes, not yet. His face was caked with blood from where Greyback had scratched him. That ruddy werewolf. It hurt for Bill to even cry. He knew he would not likely being seeing Fleur any time soon…or ever again.
With that abysmal thought, Bill's grief and pain lulled him into sleep. The Death Eaters luckily left him alone to rest.
He did not know when he next awoke.
Bill groaned as he struggled to sit up. It was dark; that was all he knew. He felt his body –yes, he was still intact. There were a few cuts and minor scratches on his arms and torso, but the worst damage had been done to his face. The wizard felt his face and gritted his teeth –and then winced in pain.
His face hurt like hell.
He was fairly sure that if he looked at his reflection right now, his features would look like they'd been through his mother's meat grinder. That thought dampened his already midnight black mood. If he did somehow manage to escape and return to his family, how could he expect Fleur to take him back? He knew she loved more than just his good looks, but he also knew her well enough to know that his newfound hideousness would greatly impact their relationship. As he looked around his indiscernible surroundings, he frowned. He and Fleur had been over the moment he had crossed paths with Greyback.
There was a clamor somewhere to his right. Bill turned his head and looked for the source, but he saw nothing but darkness. A door clicked shut.
"You're finally awake," a feminine voice said.
Bill tensed. He'd heard this voice last time and knew he had to be careful. This was the one and only Bellatrix Lestrange he was dealing with, after all.
"Why won't you speak? Ah –you can't yet, can you?" He sensed her lips curved up into a smirk.
"I can –ah," Bill hissed. His face hurthurthurt and pain made his head throb and his mind fuzz. He groaned –or had he growled? He couldn't tell. It was like the sound had come from outside of him.
Bellatrix made a noise like a quiet snort. "A proud, obstinate little blood-traitor. You really are a Weasley."
"And what of it?" he rasped. He found that, the more that he spoke, the easier it was to speak past his injuries. "I'm not going to be your plaything."
She was quiet a moment. "So you did hear that. Hmm. I think only you did. But that doesn't matter. Your say doesn't matter either. You're our prisoner. We can torture you, maim you, kill you-" Suddenly, her voice was right near his ear. "We can do whatever we want to you."
"Is that the royal 'we'?" he spat back.
There was a nasty crack as her palm struck his cheek. It hurt a million times worse than it would normally have because of his marred face. He doubled over on his bed and fought down the bile rising to his mouth. He couldn't keep it all in, however. He wiped his mouth on the nearest piece of cloth after he expunged his stomach's contents…what little there was of them.
"Sorry, your highness," Bill grumbled.
"Maybe they were right," Bellatrix groused. "You probably would've been better dead."
When she walked out, Bill wished they'd killed him, too.
Bill had no idea whatsoever of where he was. He also had no idea what time of day it was or what day it was. He vaguely sensed that he had been at the Death Eaters' hideout for a few weeks.
It was the same old routine. He'd wake up with a start from some nightmare –his mind's favorite being Greyback attacking Fleur –to find he was still surrounded by inky blackness on all sides. Moments later, Bellatrix would bring in something for him to eat. She never said much, but his hackles were always up around her.
On one particular instance, she did pipe up. "You're the same as normal?"
Bill found it odd that she'd phrased it as a question. He also found it weird that she'd been observing him long enough to find out what his "normal" was. "I'm me, that's all."
"That's not what I meant."
He sighed. More than anything else, he was just purely exasperated with her. But one could only get that way after waaay too much time with the psychotic witch. "Then say what you mean. Or is this just another way to torture me?"
She smirked…well, he heard it, not saw it. "We haven't harmed a hair on your head, blood-traitor. In fact, all we've done was heal you." Her arm brushed his and he got a cold chill up his spine. "But that can be easily changed."
He pushed away his food. "I think I'm tired again."
He felt his food churning in his stomach. He really wished she would not breathe on his face like that. "I think I'm tired again," Bill repeated.
She walked away as he turned towards the opposite wall. "You shouldn't be fine. You should be feeling like a beast. You were scratched. And it's a full moon tonight."
Bill's blood iced. "Am I going to turn?"
"I dunno. Are you?"
That full moon brought no complications. But Bill could feel it in his blood –the next one would be the determining factor.
He could either live or die. It wasn't even his choice. The scratches had been infected, regardless of Greyback being in human form at the time of the attack. Bill could feel the moon approaching its detestable phase. In fact, he almost knew what day it was… Yes, it was Friday. The full moon was two or three days off.
The Death Eaters knew when it was coming, too, and not because they had contact with the outside world. They were watching him slowly become the beast Bellatrix had called him. No… Bellatrix was the one watching.
"So this is what it's like," she commented to herself as he thrashed about. She paced the perimeter of the room as Bill lost sight of his senses.
He growled lowly at her. "Don't just stand there –kill me already!" Bill barked. He clawed at his skin. No! Nonononononononono, this wasn't him, this didn't feel like him, this couldn't be him! He didn't feel right in his skin, in his body. He glared at her. His senses were sharpening; he could see her very clearly in the darkness now. He saw her pale skin and her jet hair and her half-wary sneer. He saw her onyx eyes as they watched him with…fear? Bill smirked. Though she was the older, more experienced witch, she was scared of him, scared of what he could turn into, scared of what he was becoming.
"I won't kill you," she said quietly, but she backed up a bit.
Bill snorted. "You go on and on about having all this power over me –well, where is it now? Am I still just your plaything?"
Finally, she cackled that laugh he was expecting. "Of course you are my plaything! I've toyed with you all this time, making you sit on the edge of your sit, wondering each time I walked in here if it would finally be your last day!"
"Oh, shut it, you ruddy cow." He strode over to her and grabbed her wrists. Her back was against the door now and now his breath was on her face. "If it's going to be my last day, I might as well enjoy it, no?"
She laughed against his lips as lust took over. Night was their cover as lips and fingers and skin meshed…but that was all. He was sober enough of mind to not let it escalate to something he would regret. He shoved her from him when he realized just how much of that porcelain skin he saw.
"Get out," he croaked.
Bellatrix smirked. "Already done with me?"
On reflex, he shot out his hand and wrapped it around her neck. "I can be done with you with one little squeeze."
She laughed. How could he forget? She was in love with violence. Making such a threat meant nothing to her. Bellatrix left, however, and Bill was alone to greet the next day with blue eyes that were slowly turning gold.
It happened Monday night.
Bill laughed drily to himself as the sun dipped in the sky and the moon hovered over everything. No, still all he could see was darkness in his room, but he felt the moon rising.
It was all he had in him not to howl.
He knew not if he would change, but he felt like a beast in his skin. His senses were now at their most acute –so much so that he could still taste that crazy woman on his tongue.
…night fell and he craved one thing.
Bellatrix entered his room quietly. "…blood-traitor…?"
"My name is Bill," he snarled.
She nervously laughed. "You're right. Tonight is your last. We'll get rid of you."
He stood and walked to her, watching her. He could see her every miniscule move, every slight twitch in expression. He smirked as he drew her to him. "No, you won't. You want to keep my as your pet."
"No. We have no use for you…"
"They don't –but you do. Well, mistress, I am at your every command on my 'last night.'" He drew one fingertip up her spine and caught her as she arched into him. "Well? First order?"
Bellatrix locked her black eyes on his golden ones and kissed him. She walked into him, forcing him back onto the bed. The witch traced his scars and kissed each and every one of them. She tore at his covering and caressed him in ways that he knew would've made Fleur blush and curse at what little the French witch knew.
The beast took over for him. That animal drew his mouth over every available inch of her and sighed as their two bodies closed the gap and melded into one. She was a smattering of creamy softness against his jagged, toughened muscles…something that was so opposite to him. Something…something that was so different from what he was used to: Fleur.
Bill did growl here-and-there, a thing that seemed to excite Bellatrix. His hair fell on either side of his face and entwined with her jet locks. He tried to keep his lips from hers, but she turned his face and kissed him with all the fervor of a lifetime lover. Her tongue in his mouth tasted forbidden, all right –but his scars didn't hurt anymore. He didn't mind losing himself to the beast if it meant this kind of pleasure. He didn't understand this pleasure with Bella…but he knew he liked it.
Okay, it was weird to write this, even for me, *lol*. I tried conveying an itty bit of Stockholm syndrome mixed in with the animal instincts of a werewolf that would produce a sexy scene or two –and I got this. Actually, I kinda wanted to elaborate on the sexiness, but I felt I couldn't do that with Bill and Bellatrix. If it had been Snemione or Ginrius, then yeah…but even I'm still weirded out by this pairing, haha!
But that's the point of Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings! So please leave a review! Thanks!
Thanks, Mor, for Betaing your own pairing, *lol*! Siriusly (s)awesome! XD