I wrote this fic for the page in the diary of Bellatrix challenge by Severus Snape: "always" Slytherin's pride.

Thanks to Bellatrix Lepus for beta readering.

OBVIOUSLY I do not own any of the HP characters, objects, place, etc.


I don't suppose you know what it is like to be bored.

Desperately waiting for another mission. Nothing to do. No one to see but your sulky sister, annoying brother-in-law and their whiny son. And Rodolphus of course. But when was he ever interesting?

You weren't here today. Neither was Nagini.

I feel a kinship to Nagini. Whenever she passes by the others squirm. I grin at such moments. She is like me, but closer to you. She is your eyes to keep us in check. Not that I need reminding of you. My thoughts dwell on no one else.

I was wandering through the manor. Thinking about how displeased you've been with us, especially now that Lucius has gotten himself a ticket to Azkaban, blaming myself, thinking of ways to make up for all that happened. I was in a thoughtful mood. I hate that.

My walk brought me to the same door as always.

It never was a special room. Not before you choose to move in here.

If you care, I pray you do, imagine the excitement and dread which fills me whenever I approach this room.

I put my face to the door, reminding myself how to breathe. There are days when I have no other thought than your name. My hand reached for the hilt. Knowing/hoping/fearing that you'd arrive.

My memory is hazy after that.

I was staring at your mark on my skin. My sole consolation in Azkaban. All that kept me from losing who I am.

I was lying on the floor receiving some well disserved torture. Ergo I did succeed in entering your room. Hurray for me.

I cried out in pain. You demanded an apology for speaking without permission. I begged forgiveness, my lord, keeping my voice clear of any weakness.

'My lord' how easily these words would bow to my love. They never will.

You are not one to forgive a slip of the tongue, even when spoken in the midst of agony. Most thoughts driven out by pain, I fought to keep these words from entering my mouth. Your torturing was making me delirious.

There was no getting up from the floor. I want you to know how grateful I was for every bit of attention you bestowed on me. I am wishing I was there still.

To see glee illuminate your beautiful face. You stretched a hand, for a moment I thought you would pat my hair. You pulled my head back, a crooked smile adorned my face and you cursed me. Under the imperiatus curse I aimed my wand at myself. If I am not mistaken you complemented me on my crucio then.

The nouns reward and punishment ghosted through my mind.

At times I passed out. I longed to sleep, but I did not want to.

The dark lord screamed.

I rushed over to you. My beaten body in agony.

"Horcruxes." You grinned, biting back your pain.

"My lord?"

"That is how I did it, Bella." Your expression was frightening and arousing. Your red eyes lit up with joy.

"I have divided my soul …"

You told me then that part of your very soul is in my vault. The cup you once ordered me to place there. I must admit I had hoped before to hear your heartbeat come from the cup. Yet I never imagined what you revealed to me this night -last nigh, it feels as if no minute has passed since then.

Did I dare clutch your hand in mine? I can not remember. I was too engrossed by the honour of sitting beside you, hearing you breathe and speak this to me.

Long ago you promised us you'd never die. I never doubted this, never will.

There is no world without you.

I bowed my head, feeling your knuckles press against my hand. Yes, I did hold your hand. I could not find any words.

You gritted your teeth. "One is being destroyed.

By Dumbledore's hand." You would not tell me anything more.

The same blissful shame came over me as when you rescued me at the Ministry fiasco.

I yearn to avenge you. Naturally I told you this, you forbade me to act. I feel as if I have failed you, my lord.

A cold darkness ripped itself from you. You must have felt the pain, though I doubt you were still conscious.

I instantly recognised this as a piece of your wonderful soul. I reached out to it, to you.

Your power smashed into me as part of you died somewhere else.

I did not wake again.

Not for many hours. When I did, I was alone. On an entirely different floor. In the usual company.

Cissy was being overly concerned. I reluctantly saw to the wounds we'd made.

My body feels like a mess. Bruises, cuts, torn dress. I have had worse.

My spirit has never felt more whole.

Last night proved that I am still your favourite.

Now I am waiting, impatiently, for another fight. For some fun, and another chance to please you.

You might never know that I am keeping part of you with me.

You may think me unworthy.

But my damaged soul fits yours perfectly.

I do not mind if you should find out. I keep no secrets from you, my lord. Whatever you decide to do with it, with me, I accept.

For I am your most faithful.

You will hurt when I die. You will scream.

And I will always be

your horcrux


Spread the word: Horcruxes are romantic

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