
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1554239.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Bellatrix_Black_Lestrange/Lucius_Malfoy/Narcissa_Black_Malfoy, Bellatrix
      Black_Lestrange/Narcissa_Black_Malfoy
  Character:
      Lucius_Malfoy, Narcissa_Black_Malfoy, Bellatrix_Black_Lestrange
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Dubious_Consent, Magical_Bondage, Voyeurism, Marauders
      era
  Stats:
      Published: 2005-06-01 Words: 2297
****** A Lesson in Loyalty, My Love ******
by helwolves
Summary
     Lucius visits Bellatrix and Narcissa over summer holidays. Bellatrix
     claims a boon she's owed.
Notes
     Written for the May 2005 round of the pornish_pixies Fantasy Fest,
     request from LJ user violet_quill: Bellatrix/Narcissa, under the
     direction of voyeur!Lucius; dirty talk, possible dubious consent.
Lucius finds them at the edge of the garden, hexing the roses red.
He only manages a few silent steps closer before Bellatrix turns and smiles at
him, his name issuing like a threat from her colorless lips.
He returns the smile, closed-mouthed; reaches up to pluck a thorny leaf from
her dark hair. “Not fond of the white, are we?”
Narcissa laughs, a wash of pink staining her high cheekbones, her pale neck,
her bare shoulders. Lucius flashes his teeth when she snaps the stem of an
untouched rose and holds it out to him, her breath quickening as he fixes her
with his eyes.
“Muggles,” spits Bellatrix, breaking the fragile spell. “This property has
wards woven so tightly you could tangle spiders in, yet the filthy little
Muggle brats still find their way here, steal what doesn’t belong to them...”
“So Mother says we can keep them away however we wish!” Narcissa giggles,
taking aim at another rose.
“Impossible to avoid these days,” says Lucius. “They do tend to ... multiply,
Muggles.”
Bellatrix grins, the heat and light of the slowly dissolving hexes making her
cheeks glow even in the harsh sunlight. “Not if I can help it — Oww!” She
rounds on her sister, eyes blazing, wand raised. “You — You careless little —”
“Sorry!” squeaks Narcissa. Her face goes even paler, her eyes begin to swim
with tears. Lucius touches the smaller girl’s arm and she nearly collapses
against him, burying her face against his chest.
“Don’t worry, love,” he whispers, stroking her bright hair, nearly shaking with
silent laughter while grinning down at Bellatrix. “I won’t let her hurt you.”
*
“What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t invite him.”
“Lies.”
Bellatrix lets the word slide from between her teeth, watching as her sister
turns to face the wall. Narcissa’s legs are bare, her skin glowing in the
afternoon light, dark fabric framing the exposed vee of her back and the soft
curves at the base of her spine, crisscrossed with the shadows of loose black
ribbons.
“Bella, do up my laces, won’t you?” Narcissa asks, nonplussed, peering back
over her shoulder.
Bellatrix steps closer, smoothing the fabric in place, running her hands deftly
down the younger girl’s sides, over her slim hips. She lets her fingers touch
skin with each ribbon she plucks and tightens. Narcissa braces her hands
against the wall, holds her breath, arches her body as her sister pulls at the
laces to tie the swimming costume tightly in place.
“You know, we have house elves for this sort of thing, Cissy,” Bellatrix
whispers into the white-gold hair curling damply at the girl’s neck.
“Their hands are so rough. I wouldn’t let them near something as fine as this.”
“And yet you let me...” Bellatrix jerks the strings one last time, hard.
Narcissa falls back against her, laughing breathlessly, and turns with
Bellatrix’s arms resting lightly at her waist. Her grey eyes sparkle as she
looks up from beneath thick lashes. She brushes her lips against her sister’s,
mouth wet and ever so slightly parted.
Bellatrix’s fingers clench but Narcissa has already slipped away, her laughter
echoing down the empty hall.
*
Lucius finds her in the moon room, snipping thorns from the venomous tentacula
with silver shears.
“We never see you anymore, not since you’ve finished school, you know,” she
says, her back still toward him. The plant’s red tendrils shiver and twitch as
she works. “But I must say, it’s rather bold of you, coming here...”
“What ever are you implying, Bella?” Lucius sits on a wooden chaise, pulling a
cigarette from a gold case before tucking it back into his trouser pocket. The
fabric of his thin summer robes drapes over his sprawled legs, pools in a dark
silk puddle on the stone floor.
“Just us girls,” she says, turning, “for the whole summer holiday,” setting the
shears on the table, letting the thorns fall, “with no maternal eyes prying,”
stepping closer, bare feet scarcely touching the ground, “and naughty Cousin
Lucius comes calling.”
She sits and curls against him, long legs folded up beneath her white dress. A
small blue flame dances on her fingertip and he tilts his head toward her,
drawing breath until the cigarette flares to life.
“Go on.” He lets his fingers trail up her back, brush the tangles of black hair
from her shoulder. “Your mother invited me personally. She loves me, you know.
Dying to be the grandmother of a Malfoy. Simply cannot wait until lovely little
Narcissa is of age,” he drawls softly, “though generally I have no patience for
such technicalities.”
Bellatrix shifts against him, something like laughter vibrating deep in her
throat. “Odd you should mention that.”
“Oh?”
She stares fixedly at him for a long moment, as if reading runes cast behind
his eyes.
“You owe me a boon, Lucius. I would have it now.”
He sends a cloud of bittersweet smoke curling high into the air. The grey light
of dusk filters in through the moon room’s enchanted ceiling, draining the
color from the stained-glass walls, the variegated plant life, the girl’s cold,
bare skin.
“And what is it you would have?” he asks, finally, smiling down at her with a
practiced calm.
Bellatrix purrs, “Her.”
Lucius chokes on the inhale, causing her to laugh softly and wave the scattered
cloud of smoke from their faces. He looks at her, and though she’s smiling, her
eyes have gained a feverish brightness that he finds perhaps more unsettling
than the request.
“You cannot mean —”
“She drives me mad,” Bellatrix hisses, her hands flat against his chest now,
her lips trembling. “She’s a brilliant little tease, you know. She’s absolutely
horrid, Lucius! Taunts and touches and kisses and then leaves... She’s no
innocent, she’s a monster, she is, and she will not have me!”
He sneers at her with helpless amazement. “You’re mad enough without her help,
love.”
“Lucius, you owe me... You cannot deny what I request.” Her voice is low and
dagger-edged, and he releases the thin wrists that he did not realize he had
ensnared.
“Let’s speak plainly, for a moment, then. You wish for me ... to cast the
Imperius curse on my virgin bride-to-be ... so that I may force her into
performing base sexual acts with her own beloved sister.”
Bellatrix stares at him for a long, shivering moment before shattering the
silence with her barking laugh. “No,” she gasps, “no, of course not, foolish
boy. I don’t want you to curse her — you must convince her.”
*
“I used to think — when we were young, of course — I thought that if we just
kept swimming, we might swim off into the sky, and Mother would never find
us....”
The footsteps behind her are soft; Bellatrix is wearing no shoes again.
Narcissa swings her legs through the water, letting the ripples create
constellations from the scattering of tiny, incandescent lily pads that light
the pool by night.
“It does look like a sea of stars.”
Narcissa looks up in time to see a white silk robe pooling around her sister’s
ankles, and every inch of Bellatrix’s pale skin glowing in the moonlight for
the few seconds it takes her to step out of the garment and leap into the
water.
The younger girl yelps as a cold wave washes over her, shrieks as her sister
emerges from the depths like a dark creature and tugs at her toes. Narcissa
plunges in after her, laughing and splashing, swatting and tangling together,
slick skin sliding against skin, until the two of them are breathless and
floating, hanging by their arms at the edge of the pool.
The kohl around Bellatrix’s eyes is smudged. Narcissa reaches over to thumb it
smooth, but Bellatrix always was the quick one and she snatches her sister’s
hand out of the air, spinning and pinning her back against the black marble
steps.
“You’re a silly little girl, you know,” Bellatrix murmurs, her lips against the
fluttering pulse in her sister’s wrist.
Her breasts are full and soft in the water, though the temperature and the
chase have left her nipples painfully taut, and she smiles slowly when she
notices that Narcissa is staring.
*
Lucius finds them at the edge of the pool, crushing the light out of water
lilies with their writhing.
He moves closer with a practiced silence, watching. Bellatrix’s hair is long
and dark, the wet tangles hanging like a veil to hide the meeting of mouths,
but the sounds betray them. Wet kisses, open and quiet. Bellatrix’s soft
growls. Small, girlish noises from Narcissa.
“Lovely,” Lucius whispers, though there is more venom in his voice than he had
hoped.
Narcissa’s noises go panicked, insistent. She paws at her sister, trying to
turn away and hold her swimming costume to her chest, and doing a poor job of
both. Bellatrix snarls, tangling her fingers in Narcissa’s dripping hair to
keep her from scrambling away.
“You see?” Bellatrix hisses, her dark eyes flashing and suddenly focused on
Lucius, who settles himself on the ground beside them. “You see what she does
to me?”
“No — I wasn’t —” Narcissa gasps.
Her lower lip trembles and has been bitten full and pink.
Lucius finds that he doesn’t need to force the smile when he says, “You have
been a very wicked girl.”
It requires little effort to grab a fistful of the trailing black ribbons at
Narcissa’s back. As she whimpers and jerks, the stiff fabric pushes aside to
reveal the edges of soft pink nipples, the pale curves of her breasts.
“Lucius, no, I —”
“Silence,” he barks, and the girl stiffens. Near her feet, Bellatrix shifts
impatiently, her naked body lithe and twisting, and it would be distracting if
Lucius weren’t already transfixed by the other girl’s softly shuddering
breaths.
“Narcissa... What have I told you is most precious in all the world?”
“...blood.”
His fingers work at the laces. Bellatrix inches forward, and he can feel the
damp heat of her as she presses closer to drag the wet fabric down and away.
“And?” he urges, splaying a hand on Narcissa’s quivering stomach, watching the
gooseflesh spread there.
“F-Family.”
“Yes.” Lucius smiles down at her, running his tongue along the line of his
teeth. “So tell me, love,” he continues lightly, reaching out to stroke
Bellatrix’s hair, letting his other hand drift down the strong curve of her
neck, to brush against her breast before tugging her closer by the arm, “is
that any way to treat your sister?”
Narcissa stares up at him with eyes impossibly wide and shining in the
moonlight. She shakes her head, slowly.
“You want to make it up to her, don’t you?”
The girl nods.
“Brilliant.”
He’s drawn his wand from his boot before either girl notices, and with a word
and a wave he pulls several long, thin tendrils from the stones beneath them.
They lash through the air, cold and wet and wrapping around Bellatrix’s wrists
and ankles faster than she can react.
“What are you playing at, Malfoy?” she hisses as the tendrils arch her body,
pull her arms back, spread her legs.
He grins appreciatively at the view. “Merely granting your boon, Bella. Nothing
more.”
“Lucius...” Narcissa clings to him suddenly, shivering and naked in the cool
summer night. “What would you...”
“I want you to taste her.”
The girl doesn’t move. She makes a high noise in her throat as he grabs her
roughly by the hair and shoves her toward her sister.
Bellatrix moans like a dragoness in heat as Narcissa nuzzles against the blue-
white skin of her inner thigh. Lucius sneers and twitches his wand hand...
Another tendril slips from the ground and insinuates itself between Bellatrix’s
lips; the grind of teeth on stone echoes across the pool.
“Darling, my love,” Lucius says in a silvery voice, “you will put that pretty
little tongue in her pretty little cunt. Now.”
Lucius leans forward to brush aside the curtain of her blond hair, allowing a
perfect view of Narcissa’s tightly closed eyes, her tongue darting out to wet
her lips, her fingers moving to rub at the dark vee between her sister’s legs.
Bellatrix’s hips jerk at the contact and, encouraged, Narcissa slides forward,
sharp little tongue darting out again to lap at the slick pink skin exposed by
her fingers, slowly at first and then pressing forward longer, deeper with each
stroke.
Lucius growls his approval.
“Tell her,” he whispers, sliding one hand down Narcissa’s bare back, making her
arch, catlike. “Tell her you love eating her cunt. Tell her how pretty it is.”
Narcissa pulls her head back, panting, her mouth glistening. “So wet...
Bella... so pretty...” she gasps between breaths, pushing her fingers easily
inside, and Bellatrix jerks hard against her restraints. Narcissa pouts,
“Lucius...”
“Go on, then,” he says, and she plunges forward again. And he watches,
spellbound by the rhythm of her nodding head, her sister’s shuddering hips, the
noises wet and smacking, the flashes of slick flesh and pink tongue... Lucius
allows himself to slide a finger around the edges of Narcissa’s cunt, parting
the fine blonde hair, rubbing lightly at her clit until Narcissa moans against
Bellatrix, causing the other girl to buck violently and draw breath hard and
shaking around the stone gag.
She rolls her hips back, seeking the pressure of his hand even as he pulls
away. “How I ache to finally have you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to bury his
nose in the perfume of the damp curls behind her ear. “You are a perfect little
pureblood whore, aren’t you.”
“Yes...”
“Both of you.”
“Yes...” Narcissa murmurs against Bellatrix’s belly, her fingers stroking
lazily between her sister’s legs and around the swell of her breasts.
“That’s a good girl.”
“Yes.”
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
