Fire

Chapter 6

“I\'ve seen your trick of blood, your trap of fire, Your ancient wound, your scarlet moon, And your jailhouse smile.”—Nick Cave, Lament

“Bellatrix, what on earth is the matter with you?”

Bellatrix raised her eyes from where she had been staring down at her coffee cup and fixed her older sister with an innocent expression. “Whatever do you mean, Andromeda? There’s nothing wrong with me.” She forced herself to relax her shoulders, slow her breathing and appear innocuous.

Andromeda laughed, shaking her head. “Right, Bellatrix. There’s nothing the matter with you this morning, just as there hasn’t been anything the matter with you for the last year you’ve been home from school.” Andromeda leaned forward and put her hand on Bellatrix’s, patting gently. In a soothing tone, she said, “Look, I know it is difficult, adjusting to the switch from being a student to being a young woman –”

“Will you bloody stop it, Andromeda? For the love of Merlin, you’re not mum. I do not require your lectures now anymore than I did when we were at school,” Bellatrix snapped, feeling her face flush in anger. Andromeda just raised a brow in that utterly infuriating way she had and murmured something like, “Indeed”, under her breath and returned her gaze to the Prophet after removing her hand from Bellatrix’s.

Bellatrix bit her lip until she tasted blood, until the pain stopped the flare of irrational anger that rose within her. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself, resisting the urge not to hex her older sister into next week. Bellatrix was aware she had a formidable temper; it often amused her that everyone thought she was blind to this facet of her personality. But even she realized lately that she had been a bit … unbalanced. Just yesterday she’d been a bit heavy-handed with one of the house-elves and had to threaten the bloody thing with clothes to keep it quiet about its misfortunate encounter with Miss Bella. She noticed it was difficult to keep her temper with Andromeda, her parents, the house-elves … every day she felt she was struggling against unleashing some powerful spell that would torment everyone around her, merely for the amusement such an action would bring.

The problem was she was bored. Horribly, dreadfully, awfully bored.

Bellatrix was not used to having nothing to do. In school, even if she did not spend a lot of time on her coursework, she still had a lot of other things to occupy her time — scheming, inflicting terror in her classmates, hexing those unlucky enough to warrant it from her (mainly, everyone) and the like. Her mind was engaged, and although it could be said that was dangerous for everyone else, it was far better for her. Here at Ravensden she dressed each morning in gowns her mother deemed proper, took breakfast with her sister and then did nothing until the obligatory round of parties began at night. There she was obliged to stand around and sip Champaign and wait for something exciting to happen.

It never did. She saw the same people, ignored her parents pointed attempts to attach her to a wealthy wizard worthy of their status and spent a lot of time staring out of windows at the night, wanting nothing more to be a part of the darkness. There were times the longing was so intense, she would sneak into some empty room of wherever the party was being held, rip off her gloves and scratch herself under the silk of her robes until she bled. Sometimes she bit the skin between her thumb and index finger — a reason she was fond of the evening gloves in the first place. Many no doubt thought it an affectation of wealth or privilege, but lately the bite marks had started to bruise. There would be no escape in these moments of utter boredom until the end of the party, when she had a few blessedly short hours of freedom.

In the darkest part of the night, her activities horrified her sister and would have destroyed their mother’s sanity if she knew — but even that had begun to lose its appeal. The last fully satisfying relationship she’d had, that had been with Malfoy. The blond wizard was an irresistible catch, and he although he was an accomplished lover and a brilliant man, something about their liaison had been sadly lacking. He’d known exactly how to touch her, how to banter with her, but it had all been so … coldly impersonal, as if he wanted her to know she was never to think herself a candidate for the role of Mrs. Malfoy. The thought made her laugh — that was a position she would gladly leave to another. Malfoy’s icy beauty was compelling, but he was as cold on the inside as he was on the outside, and Bellatrix had never had any desire to freeze.

She had dated Barty Crouch Jr. briefly, but he was the exact opposite of the cold Lucius Malfoy in a few ways — namely, he was a tad too devoted. She liked his all-encompassing desire to pleasure her and his awe in having her in his bed, but his continual flock of owls and annoying habit of sending her presents had finally ended that little diversion. At least Malfoy had understood the rules of the game — there was no contact between them unless it was in the dark of night, and during the day, if they met on the street, they would politely nod hello and keep walking.

They most certainly did not mention the possibility of marriage to her bloody father. Growling, Bellatrix felt the anger rise in her again and her breathing escalate. She had almost cursed that pathetic excuse for a wizard for that one. I should have. Maybe it would have entertained me. Maybe casting Crucio on someone is just the thing I need to fix this horrid restlessness. She eyed the house-elf carrying the coffee pot thoughtfully. It met her gaze, squeaked nervously and almost tripped.
Bellatrix laughed, delighted.

“Really, Bella,” Andromeda said crossly, not looking up from her paper.

“Terrorizing the house-elves is so juvenile, not to mention pointless. They’re scared to death of you already.”

“Bloody hell, Andromeda, I swear to Salazar himself I will curse you if you continue to speak to me in that insulting fashion!” Bellatrix said angrily, standing up and fixing her sister with a glare.

“Sit down,” Andromeda said, still not looking at her. “You’re going to make me even more tired, and I have not the patience for you today.”

“Well I don’t bloody well care what you have the patience for —” Bellatrix stopped her ranting as something in her sister’s voice had caught her interest. “Why are you so tired, sister, anyway? I noticed that you were not in your room when I returned last night — or should I say this morning? Out being naughty, were we?” Bellatrix grinned, crossed over to her sister and grabbed the chair next to it, falling into it and tugging at Andromeda’s hair. “Come along, Sis, do tell me. Where were you?”

“Honestly, Bella, you’re like a child tormenting a puppy,” Andromeda snapped but fixed her sister with a somewhat fond look from her dark brown eyes. It was the sort of exasperated fondness a mother might have in her expression as she watched her toddler throw a temper tantrum over being a new toy.

“Well, I cannot help you are as easy to torment as that little puppy of
Narcissa’s was — what was its name? Sisyphus or something?\"
Andromeda shook her head, smiling. “I remember how Mum thought it was funny to have ‘Cissa’ and ‘Sisy.’” Andromeda laughed. “Cissa is so not a dog person, is she?” Andromeda furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “What ever happened to that dog, do you suppose? I don’t even think Cissa remembers. We’ll have to ask her when she’s home next from school.” She looked at Bellatrix thoughtfully. “Do you remember, Bella?”

“Narcissa hates that nickname, you know,” Bellatrix said quickly, unable to meet her sister’s gaze. She was not entirely certain Andromeda really wanted to know what had happened to the dog. “She really does.”

Andromeda shrugged. “I’ll believe it when she tells me, Bellatrix. Who knows, you could be telling me that just to make Narcissa vexed with me,” Andromeda said with a smile. “I wouldn’t past you — I’ve never seen anyone who likes conflict as much as you.”

Bellatrix’s smile was as sharp as a knife as she grinned her assent to her sister’s words. “I’m not, but think whatever you like. Now, sister,” Bellatrix said, peering at Andromeda thoughtfully. “Do tell me why you were out so late last night.”

Andromeda stood up but not before Bellatrix saw a flash of worry in her sister’s dark brown eyes. “No reason, Bellatrix, and certainly you have something better to do with your day than badger me? Besides,” she said, voice slightly hard, “you leave my whereabouts alone, and I’ll remember to return the favor.” She gave Bellatrix a pointed look before sweeping out of the room.

Bellatrix stood in the dining room, eyes narrowed. Where are on earth is Andromeda going that she thinks she needs to threaten me to keep it a secret? Shrugging, she dismissed the thought and swept out of the dining room, knocking a teacup on the floor and watching with a smirk as a house-elf peeped around the corner, looking nervously into the room, waiting until she was gone to come in and clean up the mess.

Bellatrix Black had an unfortunate habit of waiting for others to clean up her messes for her.