
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/447891.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Bellatrix_Lestrange/Draco_Malfoy
  Character:
      Bellatrix_Lestrange, Draco_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Bellatrix_Lestrange_-_character, Draco_Malfoy_-_character, Community:
      daily_deviant, Blackcest, Crossgen, Underage_Sex, Dubious_Consent,
      Consent_Issues, Book_6:_Harry_Potter_and_the_Half-Blood_Prince
  Collections:
      Daily_Deviant
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-06-30 Words: 1000
****** Flagrante ******
by Musyc
Summary
     He wants to feel normal again, and he knows that he never, ever will.
     He lifts his head and there is Bella, dancing and spinning, laughing
     wildly, her hair streaming around her in dark waves, and he knows
     why.
There's the stench of smoke and dirt on his skin. Bare patches in his palms
from when he fell over a gnarled root and scraped his hands raw. Cuts on his
cheeks and forehead, stinging as sweat drips into them, from the leaves
slashing his face as he ran from the castle. He can barely hear the others over
the thunder of his pulse, his heart slamming in his ears, rushing in his
throat, until he shoves one hand over his mouth and nose, afraid his blood will
surge so fast that it escapes him. Afraid it will pour out of his nostrils and
over his lips until he's coated in it.
The others are laughing, cheering, clapping each other on the back in
congratulations for a job well done. They spin and disappear in black, murky
smoke, leaving to regroup and celebrate the battle, the death of an enemy and
the breaking of spirits. Their signal, Morsmordre, the skull and snake, floats
overhead marking their victory. Draco shudders and turns his eyes away from the
clouds and the macabre, grinning face in the sky. He fights not to gag at what
that symbol represents, at the knowledge of what he's done. His assignment is
complete, the old man is dead, his parents are safe. He should be celebrating
as well.
He can't. There's a fiery space inside him, like one of the novas they learned
about in Astronomy classes, on that tower where Dumbledore died. It's burning
everything from him, leaving his whole universe off-kilter and spinning out of
control. He wishes it would burn him entirely, sear him down to nothingness, so
that he could lose the sense that fills him now, the sense that everything has
gone wrong, that something has been set in motion and has made his choices
futile.
He wants to feel normal again, and he knows that he never, ever will. He lifts
his head and there is Bella, dancing and spinning, laughing wildly, her hair
streaming around her in dark waves, and he knows why. The destruction at the
castle, the screams and wails of people injured or dying has her thrilled. A
flush spreads across her pale cheeks, her eyes sparkle bright and feverish. Her
joy at the attack, her glee at the carnage they left behind.... As twisted, a
violent, as sickening as it is, this is normal for her. For all the Death
Eaters. And he's one of them, he's as soulless and vile as they are, and this
is normal for him, now.
Bella's panting hard from their flight, one hand against her throat and her
breasts rising under her bodice. She's laughing and gasping and moaning all at
once, her fingers outlining her body as she spins and capers. She's flushed and
impassioned, ready for more, more, more, and Draco knows she doesn't care how
she gets it. She wants, like fire wants fuel, and she takes what she wants. The
only question that she ever has is who, and it isn't the first time he's seen
her eyes turn towards him.
He shakes his head, but it's resignation, not denial. Protest only spurs her,
refusal only excites her. She's heat and passion, rushing him like a fire, and
it's too late for him to avoid the flames.
Bella grabs his face, her ragged nails biting into his cheeks, and she hauls
him close. Draco responds as he knows he must, as he's been trained to answer.
Each time, it's been easier, and by now, he knows how to make it quick.
He shoves his hands into her hair, jerks her head back, bends to bite at her
throat. He can feel her pulse rushing beneath his lips, the heat of her skin
under his mouth. She presses to him and her hands roam his body, running under
his shirt and into his trousers, nails raking across his nipples, fingers
wrapping around his cock.
He snaps his head up, ripping her throat with his teeth, the copper-iron taste
of her blood on his tongue. Bella shrieks and tightens her grip, her fingers
locking around his length. Draco bucks, moaning, and Bella shoves him to the
ground. He falls hard, the breath knocked from him, lights sparking across his
vision, and she's on him before he can recover. She tears at her skirts, claws
at his trousers, exposes them both to the wind and sky.
Draco looks up at the clouds, and the green skull grins at him, eddying in the
wind until it's laughing. Taunting him for his failures, mocking him for his
weakness. He hates it. Hates himself. Hates the woman straddling him, her body
hot and slick against him. Hates everything that has brought him to this, that
has made this familiar, that had made this normal.
He digs his fingers into the dirt beneath him and closes his eyes. Bella rakes
her nails across his stomach and over his hips, then grips his cock tight and
guides him in. She rides him like a wildfire, fast and searing, with the
burning roar of her cries echoing through his blood.
Draco clings to her, pulling her down, clutching her to him. He digs his heels
into the ground and lifts his hips to thrust into her. Bella sways above him,
her wild hair a tangled black flame. She squeezes around him, grinds onto him,
rocks over him, taking herself to a peak.
Draco pulls her down and kisses her, bites at her mouth, scrapes at her lips
until she bleeds. He can taste the flames that fill her, the heat driving her
to madness. She is the nova, the explosion of fire and death, and he prays that
soon he'll be consumed.
She dances over him, head thrown back as she shrieks, her body writhing and
bucking as she comes. Draco shudders underneath her, his nerves singed and his
blood heated. He follows her into the flames and burns himself to ash between
her thighs.
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