Chapter 4

By: HPRairPairsOnly

The morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes in Fleur's room, casting thin beams of light across the dark wood floors. Outside, the world stirred with the distant hum of servants and the rustle of leaves in the early breeze. But inside, the air was heavy, thick with the weight of dread that clung to her like a second skin. Fleur had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Hermione—broken and trembling, cold as death beneath her touch. She saw Bellatrix's cruel smile, felt the sharp edge of her gaze even in the safety of her own room.

She had managed to hold it together. Barely.

Fleur lay on the edge of her bed, fully dressed in the same black silk robe she had worn the night before, her body rigid and tense. The half-empty glass of wine sat on the table beside her, untouched since the early hours of the morning. She hadn't even noticed when the fire had burned out, leaving only the faint smell of smoke in the air. Her mind was too busy replaying the nightmare of last night, over and over again.

She had tried to care for them, to be firm with Hermione, gentle with Luna—but how could she be anything other than a poor imitation of comfort in a world that had taken everything from them? Hermione's eyes, vacant and glassy, haunted her. The way she had slipped beneath the cold surface of the basin, like she was already gone, had made Fleur's heart twist painfully. She'd never expected to feel so powerless. And that powerlessness, that vulnerability, had settled like a stone in her stomach, weighing her down even now.

A sharp knock at the door shattered the silence, the sudden sound like a slap against the fragile quiet. Fleur shot up in bed, her pulse quickening instantly, her breath catching in her throat.

No.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She knew what this meant. Who this meant. Servants were under strict instructions to never bother her. 

For a second, she couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. It was too soon. She wasn't ready. Hermione wasn't ready. But none of that mattered because Bellatrix didn't wait for anyone. Not when she wanted something.

The knock came again, harder this time, more insistent. Fleur forced herself to stand, her legs trembling slightly beneath her as she crossed the room and opened the door.

Bellatrix stood in the hallway, her tall, lean figure draped in dark, flowing robes. The faintest smile curled on her lips, but her eyes were cold, calculating. They raked over Fleur, sizing her up, searching for any crack in the mask she so carefully wore.

"Good morning, darling," Bellatrix purred, her voice like silk over glass. "I trust you slept well." The words dripped with false sweetness, the kind of taunt that came naturally to her.

Fleur's heart raced, but she kept her face calm, composed. She couldn't afford to let Bellatrix see how much that simple presence terrified her. "As well as one can," she replied, her voice smooth, though she could feel the tightness in her throat. "Using your privileges as the Dark Lord's favorite to enter my home without permission?"

Bellatrix's smile widened, though it didn't reach her eyes. "It's my job as his Lieutenant to enter any residence to ensure compliance with the law," she said, her tone casual but sharp. "I couldn't help but wonder how you've been… enjoying them."

Fleur's stomach twisted painfully, a cold knot of fear wrapping around her chest. Her mind raced, searching for the right words, the right response. She had known this would happen. Bellatrix wasn't the type to just let things go. But now, with Hermione and Luna barely holding on, the danger was so much more real.

"They've been… cooperative," Fleur said carefully, the lie thick on her tongue. She couldn't let Bellatrix see how fragile the situation truly was. She couldn't let her get too close. "I've been training them, slowly."

Bellatrix's eyes gleamed with interest, her head tilting slightly as she stepped forward, closer to Fleur. "Training them, hmm?" she murmured. "That sounds delicious. I do hope you're breaking them in properly. They had quite a bit of spirit when I last saw them."

Fleur swallowed hard, forcing herself to stand firm even as panic clawed at the edges of her composure. She needed to keep Bellatrix away from them, needed to protect Hermione and Luna from her insidious touch. But how? Bellatrix would want proof. She would want to see for herself. There was no way to avoid that.

"They still have spirit," Fleur said, her voice low, controlled. "But I've been handling them. They… respond well to discipline."

Bellatrix's smile widened, a flicker of something dark and hungry in her eyes. "I'm sure they do," she purred. She took another step forward, close enough now that Fleur could feel the cold presence of her power, the suffocating weight of her gaze. "I'd like to see them. I'm curious to see just how well they're adjusting."

Fleur's heart seized in her chest, panic flooding through her veins. No. No, no, no.

Her mind raced, searching for some way—any way—to stall her, to convince her not to go. But the look in Bellatrix's eyes told her it was pointless. There was no stopping her now.

"They're not… in the best state," Fleur said, forcing her voice to remain steady, though every nerve in her body was screaming. "They had a difficult first night. Perhaps it's better to let them rest a bit longer."

Bellatrix's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes, as though she found Fleur's attempt at deflection almost charming. "Oh, I'm sure they're fine," she said, her voice smooth and cold. "I'd like to see them anyway."

Fleur's pulse hammered in her ears, her body rigid with fear. There was no way out. No way to stop this. She could only stall for so long before Bellatrix's patience wore thin.

With a tight nod, Fleur stepped aside, allowing Bellatrix to enter the room. Her heart pounded wildly as Bellatrix moved past her, the air around them thick with tension.

As Bellatrix made her way down the hall toward the room where Hermione and Luna slept, Fleur's mind raced, panic flooding her chest. She followed closely behind, every step like a hammer blow to her chest. What was she going to do? What would happen if Bellatrix saw them—saw Hermione, fragile and broken, barely able to stand, let alone pretend to be anything more than a shell of herself?

Her hands trembled as they approached the door, her breath shallow and quick. She could feel the sweat on the back of her neck, her entire body tense with dread.

Bellatrix stopped in front of the door, glancing back at Fleur with that same cold, knowing smile. "I do hope they've been entertaining," she said softly, a faint laugh escaping her lips. "I'd hate to think they were going to waste."

Fleur forced a tight smile, though her heart pounded violently in her chest. She reached for the doorknob, her fingers trembling as she turned it.

The door creaked open, the heavy sound stretching out far too long in Fleur's ears, like the sharp scrape of a blade across stone. She could feel her pulse pounding, the blood rushing in her ears as she stepped inside, every muscle in her body taut with panic. Bellatrix followed, her movements slow and deliberate, as though she were savoring the tension in the room.

Fleur's eyes flicked to the bed where Hermione lay, still swaddled in blankets, her face pale and drawn. She was barely conscious, her chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. Luna sat nearby, cross-legged on the floor, her wide, unblinking eyes fixed on nothing in particular. The eerie calm in her demeanor was unchanged, but Fleur could see the slight tremor in her hands, the faint sign that even Luna's detachment wasn't enough to protect her from the gravity of the moment.

Bellatrix stepped into the room, her presence like a shadow that swallowed everything in its path. Her eyes swept over the space, lingering on the two women before her, her lips curling into a slow, cruel smile. Fleur fought to keep her breathing steady, to suppress the rising tide of panic that threatened to drown her.

"Oh, darling," Bellatrix purred, her voice soft and low as she approached the bed, her fingers trailing along the edge of the blankets as she leaned over Hermione's still form. "They really are lovely, aren't they?"

Fleur swallowed hard, her mouth dry. She didn't trust herself to speak, not yet. Her mind raced, desperate for something—anything—that would keep Bellatrix from looking too closely, from seeing just how broken Hermione truly was.

Bellatrix glanced back at Fleur, a teasing glint in her eyes. "You've done well, my dear. I knew you would be able to handle them." Her voice was light, but Fleur could feel the weight of her scrutiny, the unspoken challenge in her words. Bellatrix wasn't just testing Hermione and Luna—she was testing her.

Without warning, Bellatrix reached down and brushed a strand of hair away from Hermione's face, her fingers lingering on her cold, pale skin. Hermione flinched, a faint, involuntary reaction that made Fleur's stomach churn. Bellatrix noticed it too, and her smile widened, dark amusement flickering in her eyes.

"She's still got some fight left in her, doesn't she?" Bellatrix murmured, her voice laced with satisfaction. "Good. It's always more fun when they don't give in right away."

Fleur's heart pounded in her chest, every word sending a fresh wave of dread crashing through her. Bellatrix's hand slid down to Hermione's shoulder, her fingers curling possessively around the edge of the blanket. Fleur bit the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting, every instinct screaming at her to pull Bellatrix away, to protect Hermione from whatever twisted game Bellatrix had in mind.

But she couldn't. Not without revealing too much. Not without making things worse.

Bellatrix's fingers trailed lazily across Hermione's collarbone, the movement slow and deliberate, like a cat toying with its prey. Hermione didn't move, her eyes still half-lidded, her body limp beneath the blankets. Fleur could see the faint tremor in her chest, the shallow rise and fall of her breaths, and her heart ached with the helplessness of it all.

"Oh, don't worry," Bellatrix said softly, glancing up at Fleur with a knowing smile. "I'm not going to hurt her. Not right now, anyway. I'd hate to ruin your fun."

Fleur forced a tight smile, though the effort felt like a knife twisting in her gut. "Of course," she managed, her voice strained but controlled. "I've… been taking my time with them."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, her gaze drifting from Hermione to Luna, who had remained unnervingly silent throughout the entire exchange. Luna's wide, unblinking eyes finally shifted, settling on Bellatrix with the same detached calm she always had, as if she were looking through her rather than at her.

"And what about this one?" Bellatrix asked, her tone almost playful as she turned her attention to Luna. "She's always been a strange little thing, hasn't she?"

Fleur's breath hitched in her throat as Bellatrix crossed the room, her movements slow and deliberate. Luna didn't flinch, didn't so much as blink as Bellatrix knelt beside her, her long fingers reaching out to tilt Luna's chin upward. There was something deeply unsettling about the way Luna looked at Bellatrix, not with fear, but with a kind of eerie curiosity, as if she were studying her from some distant plane of existence.

Bellatrix tilted her head, her lips curving into a smile as she stroked Luna's cheek with the back of her hand. "You don't look so broken," she murmured, her voice almost teasing. "Perhaps I should have kept you for myself."

Fleur's stomach churned, her pulse thundering in her ears. She had to say something, had to take control before Bellatrix took this any further.

"They've been cooperative," Fleur said quickly, stepping forward, her voice calm but firm. "Luna is… responsive. They both are."

Bellatrix glanced up at her, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Responsive, hmm?" She rose slowly, her fingers still lingering on Luna's skin for a moment longer before she turned back to Fleur, her smile dark and teasing. "I would expect nothing less from you."

Fleur's skin prickled under the weight of Bellatrix's gaze as she moved closer, her eyes narrowing in a way that made Fleur's heart pound in her chest. Bellatrix was too close now, her breath warm against Fleur's neck as she leaned in, her voice a low whisper. "You've always had a way with breaking things, haven't you?"

Fleur's breath caught in her throat, a tremor of fear running down her spine. Bellatrix's fingers brushed against her arm, light and teasing, as though she were playing a game only she knew the rules to.

"You've always fascinated me," Bellatrix continued, her voice soft and silky, her fingers trailing lazily up Fleur's arm, sending a chill through her body. "So composed, so in control. But I wonder…" Her fingers reached Fleur's neck, lingering there for a moment, and Fleur could feel her pulse racing beneath her skin. "How much of that control is real?"

Fleur's breath hitched, her mind racing. She couldn't afford to let Bellatrix see how much she was unraveling, how much the presence of this woman—this monster—made her want to flee, to fight, to do anything but stand still. She forced herself to remain calm, to keep her voice steady even as Bellatrix's touch sent waves of panic crashing through her.

"Control is necessary," Fleur said softly, her voice smooth but tight. "In all things."

Bellatrix's smile widened, her fingers pressing ever so slightly against Fleur's throat, her touch almost tender, but there was an underlying menace in it. "Of course it is," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I wonder… what would happen if you ever lost it?"

Fleur's chest tightened, her breath shallow. She could feel the heat of Bellatrix's breath against her skin, the weight of her gaze as if she were looking straight through her.

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"They will learn," Fleur said softly, her voice steady but cold, though the effort to keep it that way was draining. "They're already starting to bend."

Bellatrix's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Oh, I don't doubt that." She stepped closer again, her hand drifting up to rest lightly on Fleur's shoulder, her touch possessive. "But I've learned that the best way to break someone in is to keep them close. Very close. You'd be amazed how quickly they learn their place when they're in your bed."

Fleur's chest tightened, a wave of nausea rising in her throat at the suggestion. The image of Hermione and Luna, broken and stripped of every last bit of themselves, reduced to nothing but tools for Bellatrix's sick games, made her sick. But she couldn't react. Not now. Not while Bellatrix was still watching.

"I'll consider it," Fleur managed, her voice smooth, though it felt like acid on her tongue.

Bellatrix's fingers trailed down her arm, slow and deliberate, before she finally stepped back, her gaze still fixed on Fleur with that dark, predatory gleam. "Good girl," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I do hope you'll take my advice to heart. I'd hate to have to come back and see you've been too soft."