Belle's debriefing and an unfortunate truth
/. . . she walked into the large twin nozzle shower stall, she turned the nozzles on full and began to sob at the awful truth of her life, she was unlovable; she had been rejected by the first and only people in her miserable life she had dared to love./
Harry and Marietta were just coming out of their shock when they realized the damage they had just done. Belle's fragile psyche had endured so much in recent weeks this might very well have been the proverbial straw.
"I've got to go to her" they both said at the same time, then smiled at their synchronized speech.
Harry entered the shower first, Belle, who had obviously been crying said "Oh, do you need the shower now?"
"No, I need my Belle now, please?"
Her usually beautiful face contorted in sorrow, "you are disgusted by me, don't deny it, you know you can't lie to me!" she all but howled in anguish.
"You're right Belle. I can't lie to you, and I never will. I am disgusted, I am disgusted that one human being could do this to another, I am disgusted that I would feel justified in doing the same thing to the bastard who did this to you. I am not disgusted with you. I am shocked at how bad your scars are, but I am not horrified to be with you. I know you know I'm telling the truth, now, please?"
Harry opened his arms inviting Belle into his loving embrace. She shrank back. Marietta's face appeared through the steamy mist over Harry's shoulder.
"Belle" she said, "I'm not disgusted by you; I'm shocked for the pain you've had to bear. I can't imagine what it must have been like to have to endure it and I promise you, I will not let anyone hurt you again if it is in my power to prevent it. This I vow!"
In the muggle world words are thrown around like so much chaff. Curses are laid upon the heads of those who would pull out in front of you in traffic; promises are made and conveniently broken on the flimsiest of excuses. In magic societies words are used to shape the world, a vow is a vow upon magic where one's magic is forfeit if the vow is broken or a vow is a vow on your very life. It was as though Belle was five years old again, and she needed the comfort and closeness of the ones she knew loved her and crying tears of longing she fell into the arms of those who did, unconditionally.
Understanding, healing and forgiveness worked a special magic on them that evening, they knew that they would never be alone again.
They led the still sobbing Belle out of the shower and into the embrace of warm soft towels, as one embraced her the other gently dabbed the water away. When she was dry they continued to minister to her with hands and lips.
Harry and Marietta caressed the welts and valleys that were Belle's back and buttocks each one kissing her face, her lips her neck and very gently her breasts, for Harry, still feeling the sympathetic magic of their shared pregnancy, knew they were tender. Loving hands led her to the large four poster in the master bedroom and laid her down between them.
"Love me, my beloveds" she implored, "make me forget where I end and you begin, make us one for now."
Four hands expertly caressed her, Marie from behind and Harry from the front. He kissed her gently until she reacted with wanton hunger, her mouth open as wide as she could, her tongue probing as deeply as it could and Harry realized that she expected the opposite of tender loving care, she wanted, perhaps craved a rough, mindless fuck.
"Belle," Harry whispered "my beloved Belle, come back to us, please, come back."
And she did, she realized that this wasn't just fucking, this was making love, and while there were aspects of rutting involved it was first and foremost an expression of unconditional love and affection.
"Oh Harry, Marie, please make love to me, make me whole for the first time."
And the realization hit her, that, for the first time in her life she was making love, she was in a very real sense, like a virgin. She rolled onto her back, pulling Harry on top of her so that she could caress his lithe, muscular form, knead his tight ass and feel his impressive erection settle on her abdomen while he kissed her completely.
Marie seemed to sense what Belle needed more than anything at that point was to have him deep inside. As Harry slid slightly back Marie guided him into Belle's wet and more than ready center. All three of them groaned as he bottomed out against her dark, wet curls. Belle raised her knees and locked her ankles against the small of his back as he raised up on his arms to look at her beautiful face, her unbelievably large deep, dark eyes which looked back at him with complete adoration. He could see his reflection in those eyes and it seemed he would fall into their depths.
"Don't stop, lover" Marie whispered, and he realized he was so busy worshiping those beautiful eyes that he had stopped moving, so he began the slow stroke, steady and luxurious so that Belle could feel every centimeter of him; she was nearly vibrating with pleasure. She pushed back at him urging him to move faster and faster still until they must have looked like a flesh and blood locomotive on the king sized bed.
As Harry began to pound into Belle in earnest Marie spoke in a voice that was just above a whisper in the other woman's ear "isn't he magnificent, I want you to watch him when he does me next, you know he can, he has stamina enough for three of us."
Belle groaned at the picture forming of yet another bondmate entering their family, Marie continued in her normal voice "I want you to be there when he makes me pregnant too," Belle began to scream her release and Harry growled like a jungle cat as he rode her to completion. Marie continued in Belle's ear "I want you to see it happen because you're going to be as much a mother to my child as I will be to yours. We are family; we will always love each other."
Harry rolled onto his side, pulling Belle with him. Marietta slid in behind her and the three of them embraced and cried from the sheer joy they felt at that moment. At some point Belle said "Harry, you've not finished yet."
Harry replied, "It's not about me, beloved, it's about you."
"Marie," she said, "I must be slipping, I haven't satisfied /our/ man."
"Not to worry, Belle" she smirked, "this is just the tea interval, and he's only just begun!"
"Oh bless the Goddess for the stamina of a teen aged man!" Saying this Belle rolled Harry onto his back and, still enveloping him, began to slide up and down his body, rubbing his chest with her very sensitive breasts and nipples, stroking his shoulders and neck with her luxuriant hair while riding him to yet another peak.
"Merciful Maeve, sweet baby Merlin on a bike; come for me mon chÃ©ri, come for me!" as she was saying (or rather screaming) this she was squeezing him with the muscles of her lower abdomen so that he felt as if he were being milked.
"Harry," Marietta whispered in his ear, "let go, I know you'll still have enough for me, but she needs this right now, let go and go ahead and make a little noise, trust me."
Harry's shouts of "ah, ahhh, ahhhhhhrg!" and the warmth of his finishing inside her combined to give Belle a climax that registered on the Richter scale. She fell forward onto his chest and panted, "love . . . love . . . be . . . loved . . . beloved, oh my be, my beloveds . . ."
For the next hour or so they filled the chasm that had been Belle's loveless life with promises to keep filling her until she was whole at last.
"My beloveds" Harry mused, "I love the sound of that, the rightness of it; my beloveds."
Marietta had the sad duty to remind them that they were due back at headquarters in the next fifteen minutes.
Both Harry and Belle groaned as they rolled out of bed. Harry and Marietta dressed in simple fatigues under their cloaks of rank, Belle in a simple but elegant dress robe of deep green velvet. Her midnight black hair had been dried and plaited the long braid draped forward over her left shoulder. Her feet were encased in simple velvet slippers that she managed to make look elegant as she presented herself for inspection.
"I had planned to wear that for you at our next regimental function, but it looked so good on Belle I gave it to her. She refuses to wear black robes anymore."
"My Lady Black, you are so beautiful; if I may?" he offered his arm and she took it as though she were attending a dress ball rather than the first of a long series of interrogations.
Sergeant Major Moody met the trio coming into RHQ and escorted them to the interviewer's office. "just a word of advice sir, ma'ams" he said in a sotto voice. Harry nodded for him to go on, "ye might try silencing charms in the future, there might and I mean might be someone on the base that didn't hear the animal noises coming from the Commander's bungalow just a little while back; but I'm doubtin' it."
The two teens were scandalized and scarlet faced, Belle just raised one eyebrow and nodded her understanding.
A middle aged wizard in nondescript robes walked into the office and sat at one end of a table in one of four chairs. "Commander, this is Mister Smith from the Department of Mysteries. No transcriptions will be made from these interviews and a geas will be placed on all present to prevent recording of any kind, magical or muggle. I will not be needin' to sit in on this one" the last part was said with just a bit of rancor.
Mister Smith was as unremarkable as it was possible for a human to be, he had a face that looked like someone everybody knew. Hair color was maybe blond maybe light brown, he had no distinguishing features.
"Mister Potter, I presume?" even the man's voice was nondescript, a pleasant baritone but otherwise indistinguishable from many other voices.
Marietta bristled, "that's Commander to you, Smith."
"Indeed?" the unspeakable raised one eyebrow.
"Doesn't matter what name he goes by, he's earned his rank."
"Apologies, Lieutenant. Please take your seats, Lieutenant Edgecombe, Commander Potter, Mrs. Lestrange."
"Miss Black, please, or Belle. Bellatrix Lestrange is dead" Harry said in an even voice as he held the chairs for each of the ladies in turn.
"As you say, Commander; how can we in the Department of Mysteries help you?"
"Mister Smith, what do you know of horcruxes?"
Harry Potter made history that day as he told the story of Voldemort's quest for immortality and the lengths he had gone to in his pursuit of it. Belle told of her nightly visits to Harry while she was still in the thrall of the Dark Lord, and what the reptilian bastard's plans were for their newborn baby girl. He and Belle told of the locations of the known horcruxes and the name of the petty thief who probably had possession of the remaining one. Harry made history as the first and only person to elicit an emotional response from an unspeakable.
When they finished Mister Smith sat back in his chair and said "Oh bloody fuckin' Hell!"
"We can take out the Dark Tosser, but the horcruxes have to be destroyed first, and time is of the essence. Sooner or later he's going to realize that his guarantors of immortality are disappearing and he'll go to ground for a couple of centuries or begin a bloodbath that will make Grindelwald's rein of terror look like a, to use your phrase, a bloody fuckin' picnic."
Mister Smith sat forward in his chair, rubbed his hands together as if eager to begin and asked again "how can we help?"
"First, we need immunity for Miss Black, a fresh identity so that she can start anew."
Even though Harry said 'she,' Belle recognized through their bond that 'she' meant 'we.' "Bellatrix Lestrange must be believably dead in the eyes of the world."
"Second, we need you to pick up one Mundungus Fletcher, a petty crook who probably has Slytherin's locket. We'll convince him to give it up." Harry said with a wicked gleam in his eye.
"Third," he looked at Belle with love and longing in his eyes, "can we get rid of that bloody tattoo?"
Mister Smith looked crestfallen at the last request.
"Commander" he said sadly, "we have had repentant Death Eaters who have tried removing the Dark Mark with no success. Removing the skin won't work, the mark will simply move to another spot. One man even amputated his own arm and the tattoo reappeared on his remaining one. The dark mark is not ink on the skin, its dark soul magic. I know this better than most unspeakables for you see, soul magic is my specialty."
"Mister Smith, I am bonded to this woman, I've been in Belle's soul, there is no darkness there, our baby has driven it out of her."
"I'm very sorry Commander, the darkness is not gone, it's just overshadowed by the purity of the innocence of your unborn child."
"What are you saying, Mister Smith?" Belle asked; the apprehension clearly evident in her voice.
"Voldemort has no power over you, at this time, but the moment your baby is born, at the very moment the umbilical cord is cut, the dark soul magic will re-assert itself. Voldemort will again dominate your soul, Bellatrix Lestrange will return."
A pall descended over the group, each person was lost in their own thoughts, mostly dark.
Finally Belle spoke "I love you Harry, and I love you Marie, but I will die before I let that happen" she said in a calm, clear voice. "Alexis will be born, and if you love our daughter, if you truly love me you'll let me cut my own throat at the same time you cut the cord."
"No, Belle" Harry replied, "the blood magic that tied you to your husband has been broken; you are your own person now."
Her voice remained calm, but the tears filling her eyes betrayed her breaking heart, "I'm sorry my love and my lord, but Mister Smith is correct, Voldemort's dark soul magic is too strong for me, I can't fight him."
Everyone in the room understood at that moment that there was nothing she loved more than her bond-mates, her redeemed life, however short it might be, and her daughter to be.
Marietta seemed to hit on something and quickly asked "what if there isn't a Voldemort to try to control her soul?"
Harry perked up immediately, "hey, that's right, no Voldemort no one connected to the mark, right?"
They all looked at Smith, hope burning in their eyes.
"Grindelwald had marked followers, when Dumbledore defeated him in 1945; their marks burned white hot for a few seconds then went out. Left pretty ugly scars I can tell you and the smell of burning flesh was nearly overwhelming."
"Did it kill his followers?" Marietta asked.
"Most of them, yes, but Grindelwald's mark was taken over the heart, not on the arm."
Belle sat straight in her chair "I can endure it, even if it takes my whole arm it'll be worth it to be rid of that reptile!"
"Mister Smith, Miss Black will remain in our 'custody' until her immunity can be made official. She is fully cooperating in the prosecution of Voldemort at great personal risk to herself and deserves our protection." Harry was clearly not making a request.
"Commander, I believe I can speak for the ministry in this matter, Mrs. Lestrange will be declared legally dead, the certificate of death counter-signed by two auror officers, Miss Black, who bears an unfortunate resemblance to her 'distant cousin' will be under the protection of those same officers until further notice." Smith, for the first time in years, smiled. "Will that be satisfactory, Commander?"
Harry smiled warmly in return, "Very satisfactory, Mister Smith."
The unspeakable stood and said, "I was never here, this conversation never took place, but everything will happen as I have said, on my magic I so swear."
A rush of wind from the displaced air of a portkey and Mister Smith was gone.
"Commander, Lieutenant, may we please retire, it has been a very long day and I believe you promised to, what was it you said? Oh yes, 'flank me' cross-eyed."
They all but ran back to the bungalow where Belle dragged Marietta into the bathroom as she urged Harry to "soyez patient mon chÃ©ri." Harry understood, 'to be patient.'
When they emerged from the bath both ladies were wearing matching diaphanous hunter green night gowns that were short enough to reveal the tops of their thighs. The gowns were held together by a single small bow just below their beautiful breasts. As they prowled toward Harry he could see that Belle had charmed the hair off her beautiful mound, with a slight difference. Just above her pudenda she had left just enough short hairs to form a small "H" pattern.
Harry loved it.
He showed her just how talented he could be with his prehensile tongue.
Marietta, thankfully, remembered to cast the silencing charms just in time.
No one of the three got a great deal of sleep that night, but they woke the next morning feeling renewed and energized with determination and hope.