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Bellatrix started to dig.
It was slow, dirty work, but she wanted to do it by hand; it felt more personal that way.
Sweat mixed with dirt on her skin, but there was still more to go—six feet under, and six by seven feet wide.
She collapsed by the open grave, her chest heaving with exertion. The night sky was clear, and she looked for her own star, then her parents, cousins and grandparents, just like she’d done when she was a child.
Bellatrix choked down a sob. They were all gone, now. All she had left was Narcissa, who didn’t even have a star, and besides, she got her own family now.
Bellatrix had no one.
The stars travelled through the night sky, and her body was starting to stiffen in the cold air.
Pathetic. It wasn’t like her to give up like this, but maybe it was for the best. She was tired of always fighting. As a child, she’d grown in Narcissa’s shadow. As the only female Death Eater, and young at that, she’d had to fight hard for her place in the inner circle.
She’d let herself believe she could have this. That someone wanted her, or cared for her, even just a little.
Once again, she’d been betrayed.
The familiar rage started to swell in her chest. One might think she’d be used to the mood swings by now, but it never got any easier. Every emotion, every time, she experienced in full.
Bellatrix got up and, without bothering to clean herself up, started to walk back towards the manor. Anger spread through her body like heat, and she no longer felt cold or alone.
She burst through the double doors into a cosy sitting room bathing in the light of embers from a single fireplace. Voldemort was reading in his favourite chair; Harry lay on the floor, curled around his legs. Bellatrix drew her wand and pointed it at the Dark Lord’s chest.
“You! Any last words?”
“Bella, what—?”
“Crucio!”
Lord Voldemort twitched in his chair, tension around his eyes the only visible sign of every nerve ending in his body lighting up with pain. He was so beautiful like this, and now it was going to end. Bellatrix’s eyes filled with tears again, but she didn’t let up the curse before she felt a light touch on her shaking arm.
“Bella,” Harry said softly. “Mum, please, what’s wrong?”
She sniffled and let her arm fall limply to her side.
Harry pulled her into a hug and murmured comforting words into her ear, placed tiny kisses on her neck. “Mum, where were you? We stayed up all night waiting for you. You know I can’t go to sleep without you.”
“But— I thought—” Bellatrix’s voice cracked as she succumbed to Harry’s embrace. “You went out without me,” she whispered into Harry’s hair.
“Hush, silly girl, don’t you recall we talked about this?” Harry asked. “We— I can love you and still occasionally go out just the two of us. Just like you and I go for brunch every Thursday without Tom, right?”
She heard some shuffling and shortly after, the Dark Lord’s presence next to them.
“Bellatrix, cut this nonsense at once,” Voldemort said. “Let’s go to bed; Harry is exhausted.”
“Of course, My Lord.” She still talked into Harry’s hair but slowly let go of him and looked up to her lord with watery eyes.
“Salazar, why are you so dirty, woman? Have you been digging a grave again?” Voldemort said sternly.
“Yes, My Lord. Two, My Lord. One for each of you.”
“Oh, mother,” Harry said fondly. “I love you too.”
“Fine, a bath it is, then,” Voldemort said, exasperation creeping into his voice.
Voldemort filled the large tub with warm water while Harry helped Bellatrix remove her soiled clothes.
“Mother, you have ruined my favourite corset,” Harry rebuked her fondly. He loosened up the laces and let the thing fall on the floor. Next, he pulled the thin undershirt off and placed little kisses on her bare chest. Bellatrix groaned, and Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, giving kitten licks on her rosy nipples.
Voldemort cleared his throat behind them. “If you’re quite finished, the bath is ready.”
He pulled Harry from Bellatrix and tore off what remained of her dress. “In. Both of you.”
They got into the large bath. Voldemort sat on his customary place like a throne and spread his arms to rest on the bathtub sides.
Bellatrix crawled into his lap, and moaned as she felt her Lord’s already erect cock against her arse. She leaned her back against Voldemort’s chest and spread her legs.
Harry, on his knees in front of them, covered two fingers with soap and rubbed them against her rim. He pushed two fingers in at once, just enough to allow penetration but not ruin the burn of stretch she loved. Harry spread her arse open and lifted her onto Voldemort’s cock.
Bellatrix looked at Harry’s mesmerised expression with hooded eyes, while her Lord’s cock slowly sunk into her. She closed her eyes and rested her head on Voldemort’s shoulder. The warm water loosened up her sore muscles, and she sighed in satisfaction when Voldemort moved, his cock pushing even deeper into her anus.
After a while, Harry had apparently looked his fill, as he leaned closer. He hooked his elbows under Bellatrix’s knees and filled her cunt with a single push.
Sighing in satisfaction, Harry snaked his arms around both of them, supporting himself on Voldemort’s shoulders. He leaned in to wrap his mouth around Bellatrix’s already leaking nipple, and started to suck. A small, puppy-like whine escaped Harry’s throat, and she felt the milk starting to flow.
Bellatrix groaned and ground herself down on Voldemort’s cock; the man immediately responded by fucking into her.
It was slow and lazy; they were all tired after the late night, the comfort of skin-to-skin contact more important than getting off.
Harry was the first to grow restless, and Voldemort increased his speed with him. The mountain of sensations was too much; Bellatrix seized taut around her boys, and one after the other they soon filled her with their own milk.
It was perfect. She should probably fill the graves she dug for them tomorrow.