#bellacus

[hogwarts-1970s-scrapbooks]

"Do we have to do this?"

"Yes, now move. Oh for Salazar's sake. I'll lead."

Amycus Carrow and a very bossy Bellatrix Black in their forced dance lessons for the upcoming Yule Ball the Lestranges were throwing. Taken by Druella Black in December '64

[aomm-au]

Slow dancing in a burning room /au/ Amycus & Bellatrix

Bellatrix was disheveled.  She needed to get back to the castle. Hogwarts would be warm and safe.  The chill in the air set into her very bones as she moved through the middle of Hogsmeade as darkness began to set. There was almost a primal drive inside her, urging her on. The witch drew her cloak around her tighter, shivering slightly as she moved through the village. Bellatrix shook her head, a movement which caused her curls to fly around her slightly, as she tried to rid herself of the thoughts dominating her mind. It would all be things to ponder once she was tucked safely under the down comforter in her dorm. She couldn’t afford to be distracted right now by running through those conversations over and over in her mind. Trixie knew her thinking would be a lot clearer once she felt safe again. It wasn’t that the Slytherin wasn’t confident that she could take care of herself. In fact, she was more than confident of that fact. Years of intense dueling study, training, and her Black blood made her strong, fast and skilled. But she also knew when she wasn’t at her best and with the way her mind continued to reel, she definitely wasn’t at her best. Her dark, heavy lidded eyes continued to dart around her, almost panicked in their search for something to jump out of the dark at her.

Almost instantly, she realized what a coward she was being. With one final glance to make sure she was alone, she allowed herself to lean against a brick wall. The last thing she needed was to explain to the ridiculous gossips in her dorm why she was a wreck. She looked down, realizing that her wand was still clutched in her hand. Her knuckles were glaringly white and she relaxed them a little, forcing her lungs to take deep, calming breaths.  This was absurd.  She was Bellatrix Black, for Merlin's sake. The Slytherin wasn’t sure how long she sat there before she finally started to feel calm again but figured that it was well past curfew by the time she finally stood. It only took a minute to run her fingers through her mussed curls and to brush the dirt off her skirt before she finally felt like she could go back to the dorm without any kinds of questions. The girls would just assume she was out doing whatever it was that they believed she spent her evenings doing.

Before she could take her first step, Bellatrix heard a loud crack behind her. Without a thought, the Black whipped around and pointed her wand towards the sound.  It was easy to make a figure out in the darkness, to see the way the person’s shape took hold, but the lightening was too dim to make out any more than that.  Bellatrix remained calm, her chin pointed upwards in apparent defiance and her eyes narrowed at the figure. When she spoke, there was no trace of her previous fear in her voice.  The vocals were cold, harsh and intimidating. “Show yourself or no one is going to be able to identify you by the bits of you that are left in this alley.”