Chapter 32 - Masquerade Ball (1)

On the night of the Masquerade Ball, Asterion stood before the full-length mirror, clad in an elegant dark green suit adorned with delicate silver lines resembling the thorns of a rose, scattered across the chest area and sleeves of the jacket. A white scarf wrapped around his neck served as a tie, fastened by a dazzling ruby-studded golden brooch.

The mask covering his face was dark in color, evoking the image of a demonic being with ten red eyes, while black feathers on either side resembled the wings of a fallen angel.

"What do you think, Bella?" Asterion asked the stunning woman, who was seated in a manner unfit for a lady.

"Diabolically beautiful, Master, so much so that I want to lock you up in my basement," replied Bellatrix to Asterion, looking him up and down as if he were a succulent piece of meat. Her tongue seductively slid over lips stained with crimson lipstick.

Asterion remained indifferent to the advances of his beautiful cousin. He had grown accustomed to the perversions of his crazy cousin, who didn't even care about his age. Honestly, it wasn't all that bad; these seduction attempts helped him prepare for the future, especially when he expected to deal with women trying to seduce him, increasing his resistance to such charms. He knew that beautiful women were one of the most dangerous things in the world.

Sitting elegantly in his chair, he lightly tapped his legs, drawing the woman's attention.

Bellatrix's eyes lit up, and she rose from the couch, kneeling beside the chair with her head on his lap. Asterion merely smiled and gently stroked her hair with tenderness.

"You're truly someone starved for attention," Asterion said gently as he admired Bellatrix's beautiful face. Even nearing forty years old, due to magical energy, her aging had been slowed down, making her appear like a young woman of twenty-five.

Bellatrix pouted her lips upon hearing her master and spoke comfortingly, feeling his caresses in her hair. "It's not my fault, Master. Rarely did anyone love me."

"I see your husband didn't please you," sighed Asterion. Political marriages were like that; he himself didn't expect love, but he didn't expect both Narcissa and Bellatrix's marriages to be so troubled.

"Well, he dared to have a bastard outside of marriage," said Bella, her eyes half-closed, lazily rubbing her face against his thighs.

"And what did you do when you found out?" Asterion asked, curious.

"I killed both, the woman and the child in front of him. But he's too petty, hates me only for killing his pleasure sack and his immoral seed," Bellatrix replied with a sadistic and terrifying smile on her lips, although her face maintained an innocent expression.

Asterion remained stoic in the face of the shocking revelation. Not that he was indifferent to the death of a child, but it was like hearing news of someone's death on the other side of the continent: irrelevant to his life.

He shook his head and said calmly, "And you still claim he has no reason to want to kill you."

"It doesn't matter. He will die by my hands in the end. After all, he's weak and incompetent," Bella replied indifferently. Killing the woman and the child was trivial to her. As for Rodolphus's hatred, she didn't care; in fact, she wanted him to hate her even more. Seeing the desperation in his eyes when he was about to die would be a delicious scene to witness.

Asterion just rolled his eyes and then lifted her face with his index finger. He brought her face dangerously close to hers, causing her bodies to come closer and her breasts to press against his chest.

"What a naughty girl you are, Bellatrix," he whispered in her ear. His whisper was like that of a demon trying to seduce one into sin.

Bellatrix's pale cheeks acquired a rosy hue of shyness.

Asterion found amusement in her reaction; the killing and torturing machine in front of him seemed like a timid girl. For some reason, this brought him a sense of satisfaction.

His finger slid over the soft skin of her cheek, down to her chin, and stopped at her lips, where he traced his thumb over her plump, red lips. The lipstick smeared and spread to the sides.

Bellatrix's green eyes were clouded with raw desire as she sucked his finger as if savoring the most delicious delicacy in the world. But when she was ready to strip off all her clothes and surrender to pleasure in a carnal night of passion and wild sex, her master pulled back with a teasing laugh.

Asterion finally felt satisfied with his revenge; he had spent weeks being seduced in various ways by this woman, but this time, he made her feel her own poison.

"I just remembered I have an appointment, perhaps later, Bella," said Asterion, rising and ignoring Bellatrix's hurt gaze.

"Don't be so cruel, Master. My body is burning," Bellatrix said, writhing seductively, her cheeks flushing deeper.

"Furthermore, as your master, I forbid you to touch yourself," Asterion said, showing a smile behind his equally sadistic mask, causing Bellatrix to widen her eyes in shock.

Without waiting for a response, he left the room with light and agile steps.

"The master is so cruel~ I want him to tie me up and beat me. Should I call him daddy?" Breathing heavily, she murmured to herself with a sensual look.

 -

Leaving the room, Asterion noticed the house elves tidying up the last details for the ball, moving swiftly and completing all tasks efficiently.

"Good work," praised Asterion, and the house elves seemed to receive the praise as if it were the most beautiful of praises. They instantly bowed and redoubled their efforts, performing tasks even more quickly, as if they were even more motivated.

 Watching the scene, Asterion merely shook his head, understanding why house elves had a low status in society. They fed off the magic of their masters, essentially becoming magical parasites and, as such, were undervalued, even more so than Goblins.

Continuing down the hallway, he found his great-grandfather standing in front of a huge painting, staring at it without blinking. As he approached, Asterion saw the painting of a tall man standing with his hand on the shoulder of a woman seated in a chair.

Through the facial features, he recognized the man as Arcturus, and the woman, obviously, was his great-grandmother - Melania Macmillan.

"Did you love her?" Asterion asked, observing the elegant woman with black hair and blue eyes, sitting with her hands on her thighs and a slight smile on her lips.

"Yes, more than anything. She was my beacon, illuminating my dirty and tarnished soul," his great-grandfather replied with a slightly hoarse voice, after a brief silence. He then turned to Asterion and continued:

"I hope you find someone like that, Asterion. This is a lonely and cold world, especially for someone who will be at the top of the world like you, and the top is lonely." Each word seemed to be etched into Asterion's heart.

The boy who turned ten today merely remained silent, gazing at the painting of his great-grandmother.

Taking a silver watch out of his pocket, Arcturus glanced at the time marked on the watch and said, "It's almost time, let's greet our guests."

Arcturus then donned the mask on his face and walked towards the mansion's ballroom. His mask was plain black with gold details, a rather discreet yet elegant mask.

"Bellatrix and Sirius?" Walking alongside him, Asterion asked.

"Don't worry about that, as long as they're both wearing masks, no one will recognize them, and even if they do, no one would say anything. Everyone in that room is our ally and needs the Black family to survive in the face of the most powerful wizard in the world, Albus Dumbledore," Arcturus said, stopping in front of huge doors.

"Or they just need to betray our house and turn to Dumbledore's side," Asterion said, looking at Arcturus with a cold stare. He would never trust a stranger; although it might seem somewhat paranoid, it was something he truly believed in. Always expect the worst from those you don't know. Perhaps that's why betrayal from someone dear is more painful.

"Then, kill the traitors and set an example of the expected fate for traitors," Arcturus looked directly into Asterion's eyes and spoke each word with a coldness capable of freezing a desert.

Asterion nodded, showing a pensive look. If dialogue didn't resolve the issue, old ways always could.

"Ready?" Arcturus asked.

"Yes," Asterion simply nodded.

Without hesitation, Arcturus opened the huge doors, revealing a magnificent ballroom made of black marble. Chandeliers illuminated the space with their soft light while hundreds of men and women conversed in low voices. In the air, without any visible musical instruments, classical music played, creating a comfortable and cozy atmosphere.

The guests, upon hearing the doors opening, suddenly fell silent, looking at the two figures who had just entered, one tall and the other short.

The hosts of the party had just arrived!

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Author's Thoughts: 1500 Words in this chapter. I found it more fluid than normal, I think this is the most evident effect of longer chapters. I will continue like this in the next chapters, but when I'm busy, don't expect long chapters. Thank you for your understanding in advance. The ball will be interesting, believe me. >.>

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Next Chapter: Chapter 33 - Black House Masquerade Ball (2), Chapter 34 - Black House Masquerade Ball (3), Chapter 35 - Three Years (1), Chapter 36 - Three Years (2), Chapter 37 - Hogwarts Express (1), Chapter 38 - Hogwarts Express (2), Chapter 39 - Hogwarts Express (3) Chapter 40 - Hogwarts Express (4) Chapter 41 - Hogwarts Express (5), Chapter 42 - Hogwarts (1), Chapter 43 - Hogwarts (2), Chapter 44 - Hogwarts (3).

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