Ultimate Aphrodisiac

Chapter Six
Fledgling

"When dealing with people, let us remember we are not dealing with creatures of logic. We are dealing with creatures of emotion, creatures bustling with prejudices and motivated by pride and vanity." - Dale Carnegie

Things changed in those next few months. A casual observer might have concluded that Bellatrix had lost her nerve. No longer did she test and break boundaries at every opportunity. She became suddenly and inexplicably devoted to her studies, preferring for the first time in her life to sit down and work on her Latin and French rather than run outside. She didn't climb a tree all summer, the house elves went largely unharassed, and the gardens remained still and quiet. When Orion took her riding, she no longer attempted stunts far beyond her skill level, showing no inclination to try wild loops and flips, but instead sat with perfect posture on the back of her Granian palfrey, placid and with unprecedented obedience.

Bellatrix's governess and tutors didn't know what to make of the sudden alteration of character, for all they knew the cause. The entire wizarding community did; Andromeda's elopement and subsequent disowning had been prime fodder for the media, though all involved parties refused to publicly address the issue. But to see the jewel of the household grown so drab and demure, behaving so like her mild younger sister, was almost more of a shock than Andromeda's defection. Certainly no one could have missed this change, but no one spoke of it. Sirius, Narcissa, and Regulus were all afraid of what Bellatrix's reaction might be if they brought it up, for Clytemnestra the pain was still too near, and for Orion, commenting on it would mean admitting the tragedy that had befallen the family, something he had been deliberately avoiding all summer.

The only one with the temerity to broach the subject, though not with the girl herself, was Elaine Black. "Just sad," she said to a weary Clytemnestra as they took tea one afternoon. She and the boys were spending the entire week at the Manor, a ploy concocted by Elaine and Orion to use Sirius to draw Bellatrix out of her sudden introversion. At the moment, all four children were being led on a nature walk by the governess; just two months earlier, such an excursion would have been suicidal for Miss Graves, as she would no doubt have ended the afternoon trapped in a ravine with poisonous vines creeping hungrily about her ankles. Since Bellatrix's transformation, though, she had acted without fear, even when Procyon's boys were visiting, as Sirius never showed the boldness for mischief without a partner. "Such a shame. I hope this doesn't ruin her permanently. She always showed such promise."

"I'm sure she'll recover," Clytemnestra said, desperately searching for a way to end the conversation. None came easily, however, and Elaine didn't give her much of a chance to grasp for an alternate topic.

"It's the sort of thing that makes or breaks a girl's character," Elaine pressed on. "I always would have thought she'd be the sort to be bolstered up by such, but one would think if she were going to buck up, she'd have done it by now."

"She's grieving," Clytemnestra said, in a tone of voice that ought to have indicated that she was not the only one. Elaine, though, remained oblivious to her sister-in-law's discomfiture, and plunged straight ahead with the largely one-sided conversation.

"And it's either come at the worst possible time or the best possible. I suppose we'll see what happens when she's off to school. Maybe that'll perk her up a bit." Elaine frowned when Clytemnestra gave no response, not even a defeated shrug or nod. "After all, she'll have to prove herself. No lounging about in Slytherin House, indeed, or she'll be run straight over."

"Bellatrix wouldn't let that happen to herself." Clytemnestra might not have been overly fond of her middle -- 'No,' she reminded herself, 'Eldest.' -- daughter, but she had a realistic notion of her character. "Once she's properly challenged, she'll spring back."

Harrumphing, Elaine twitched her wand so that the teapot refilled her cup, and then plunked two sugar cubes into the beverage and set it to stirring itself. "We'd all best hope so," she commented. "More hinges on that little girl than ever, and matching her to Sirius has become more import--"

"You can't honestly be thinking of that at a time like this." Clytemnestra's indignation was on her face but not in her voice; she didn't have the strength to colour her tone with it, and so the statement came out very flat and quiet, despite the tightly drawn lines of her skin. But Elaine saw the fair eyes full of defeat, the cheeks drawn tight, and her own expression soured.

"My dear Clytemnestra," Elaine said in a scolding voice, "one must always keep these things in mind. Your husband agrees with me." Clytemnestra again gave no response; she was sure Orion did agree with Elaine. She thought occasionally that they would have been better suited for each other, except that Elaine's family was far less wealthy than her own, and her dowry had been deemed undeserving of the House of Black's young prince. "With Bellatrix heir to his fortune now, it works out perfectly that she marry my Sirius. A blessing in disguise, really. Oh, don't give me that look, Clytemnestra--" For now a touch of nauseated green was creeping into the pallor of Clytemnestra's expression. "Things fall out as they must, and as they should, and this ought to be viewed as a good turn for the family, once the scandal of it passes. Even if Andromeda - oh, for heaven's sake, Clytemnestra! - even if she had married a proper pureblooded young man, the estate would've fallen to their children in his name."

"Your sons--" Clytemnestra weakly began.

"Would have the name, yes, but not the wealth or the estate, but for what Procyon's made on his own. It would thin the line considerably, and unless Andromeda had no boys before Orion died, we'd be in a spot." Elaine lifted her teacup like it was a tankard; for all her obsession with propriety and breeding, Clytemnestra had always thought her tremendously coarse. "But with this arrangement, Bellatrix's sons will be Blacks, and the line and wealth are both neatly preserved. And you can't deny they suit each other."

"No..." Clytemnestra was limpid in her seat, draped over it as though carelessly poured into the position, lacking the energy to hold herself with any semblance of strength. She had lost, too, any inclination to argue with Elaine. What little protestation she had given had taken her daily allotment of verve, and so she let her sister-in-law go on.

~~*~~

To his credit, Orion did notice Bella's lacklustre spirits, and tried to revive them in his own way, though without any mention of what had caused them. He began spending more real time with her than he ever had with any of his children, taking her out riding on the pegasi nearly daily, inviting her to watch him as he worked in the underground potions lab, letting her follow him about his daily business and talking to her about all that he did. She was the heiress now; she had to learn what that meant, and how to manage an estate. He felt sure this would draw her from her gloom, and it did, at least, break up the monotony of her days. She was, if not particularly her old active and passionate self, genuinely interested in everything Orion had to tell her. She asked questions, she imitated his actions, she even experimented on her own, but never did she act with the same energy she once had.

He also began teaching her various hexes, jinxes, and curses; nothing too damaging or of too high a skill level, but beyond what she'd taught herself in the few months since acquiring her wand. "There will certainly be others there who will know them," he explained, "and I wouldn't dream of sending you in unprepared. Not that I worry about you being bullied." That got a small smile from her; anyone bullying Bellatrix would be akin to the island of Corsica declaring war on the whole of Europe and Africa. "But the older students will know these curses, and won't shy from using them. Neither should you."

Orion spoke and demonstrated with a very refined air. During these weeks of instruction Bellatrix came to understand what a fine and experienced duelist her father was; for years, he and certain of the men of his set had participated in dueling as one of their entertainments, but Bellatrix had never seen Orion in action. Apart from helping her master a few spells, Orion taught her the all-important dynamics of motion, the footwork, turns, and positions that could give her an advantage in battle. He set her working against a little practise dummy, a mannequin that would reflect how well her jinx had been cast. Once she was more familiar with the spells and more sure of her movements, it would move, try to evade her spells, and she learned how to adjust for feints and attempts at escape.

She took to it quickly. Curses fell from her lips more easily than ever multiplication tables or Greek grammar had, and her lithe body fit the steps of a duel even better than it did the elegant lines of a dance. By the end of August, Orion was quite impressed with her progress. "You'll be the best duelist in Britain, my dear," he declared, pressing a rough kiss to her hair. Bellatrix twirled her wand between her fingers, and thought that would be a very fine thing to be.

The more she practised, going through the steps, experimenting with certain flourishes or jabs, the more it became her favourite pastime. It was so easy to lose herself in it, to surrender her senses to the focus and finery of casting. Dueling practice became the repository for all the emotions Bellatrix released nowhere else; her passion and pride spent themselves in exercise, and all the pain she'd been swallowing for months bled itself out again, channeling into the little curses and jinxes she'd been taught.

There was, though, below the joy of it, a slow-burning ache, an unfulfilled desire for more. Orion had taught her the simplest of hexes, things that would cause embarrassment or discomfort, but not true pain. Something instinctive in Bellatrix's core sought deeper satisfaction than these minor curses could bring; she wanted a way to lash out, to release the pent-up fury and transfer her pain to someone else. 'Someday,' she told herself, focusing on making her form as neat and her movements as fast as she could, 'and someday soon.'

~~*~~

On the first of September, Bellatrix's family accompanied her to King's Cross Station. Sirius had come along as well, unwilling to say goodbye to Bella a moment before he had to. None of them were happy about having to move alongside Muggles just to get to the train; Bellatrix had, in fact, begged her father simply to take her to Hogsmeade and take a carriage the rest of the way to the school. But Orion had been firm on this point; it was tradition, as much as anything else about the rite of passage of beginning at Hogwarts, no matter how distasteful part of the process was.

Bellatrix and Narcissa both knew how to get on to the platform, having accompanied Andromeda several times, but somehow Bella found the bustle of the station more awe-inspiring, now that she would actually be boarding the train. Suddenly she noticed, more than she had in previous years, the faces of the students gathering their belongings, hugging their parents goodbye, meeting up with their friends. An acute pang struck at her chest; if she had ever known the emotion before, she would have recognised it for loneliness. For the first time, she would be cut away from her most constant companions, and would have to learn how to associate with others, who had not known her for her entire life.

But such thoughts would never cow a girl like Bellatrix for long. She held her chin up, thinking that she would find a way to manage any new situation.

"You're sure you have everything?" her mother was saying, looking over the trolley with Bellatrix's trunk. "You'll put on your school robes while you're on the train, they'll take good care of Lilith until you're in your dormitory... I suppose all that's left is to say goodbye."

Bellatrix nodded absently, and looked first to her sister, who was standing nearest her. Narcissa said nothing, and her face registered no emotion, but after a long, appraising look from her crystalline blue eyes, she threw herself at her sister, wrapping her skinny arms around Bellatrix's torso. Bellatrix wanted to dismiss her with the usual disdain, but she was feeling more sentimental than usual towards the little blonde, and so returned the embrace, patting her hair gently and pressing a kiss to Narcissa's temple. "I'll miss you," Cissy squeaked, so quietly that no one but Bellatrix heard.

"Hush," Bella said. "You'll have the house all to yourself now. Full run of everything."

"It's going to be very quiet," Narcissa murmured, her head still buried against Bella's chest.

"You like it quiet," Bella pointed out.

Nodding, Narcissa replied, "Yes, I know. But... I'm going to miss you, anyway." Narcissa had been considering for a long time the benefits and detractions of being the only child still at home. True, the manor would be much more peaceful, as she liked it, and she would no longer need to fear waking up with amphibians between her sheets or her hair tied to the bedposts, nor need to inspect her food carefully for traces of substances that had not been put there by the house elves. It also meant, though, that her parents would have no one but her to look to, and she did not fool herself that this would be pleasant. Orion already considered her only to criticise most of the time, to compare her unfavourably to his darling Bellatrix, and Narcissa had the feeling that her mother would now smother her more than ever. In truth, she was terrified of being left alone at Ebony Manor with her parents, and envied Bellatrix for growing up so much ahead of her.

The train whistle was blowing, encouraging the students to board. "You still have a few minutes," Clytemnestra said. She bent to give a brusque kiss to Bellatrix's cheek. "But best to hurry, all the same." That was as much of a goodbye as Clytemnestra was going to give her, and as much of one as Bellatrix wanted from her mother, and so she shifted over to Sirius.

Sirius fidgeted, and Bellatrix shuffled in front of him. A summer of awkwardness had not made either of them more comfortable with tender emotions. Pushing his hair out of his eyes with the back of his wrist, Sirius muttered, "I'm--I mean, I--"

"I know," Bellatrix said quickly, sparing them both blundering attempts at voicing their feelings. She lunged forward and gave him an impulsive hug, which he returned with all the artless delay of a boy hovering on the edge of adolescence. "It's only for a year," Bella whispered. "And really not even that long. I'll be home at holidays. And then next year you'll come join me and it'll be just like ever."

Sirius nodded, affecting as stoic an expression as possible. It occurred to Bellatrix just how much he looked like her father then, and she wondered how much he would resemble his uncle when he was fully grown. She could already see the hints of it in his features; the proud edge to the moon-grey eyes, the aristocratic cut of the cheekbones, the stubborn set to the jaw. Smiling, she kissed his cheek. "I'll write," she promised. "And you'd better write back!" She pinched his arm teasingly, and Sirius grinned.

"I will. And in a year I'll come join you, and we'll be King and Queen of Slytherin House, together." Bellatrix laughed, and Orion saw this, and his eyes lit with silent approval.

Bella said goodbye to her father last. As she looked up at the tall figure, she felt a tremble for the first time, a profound sense of worry accompanied by the instinct to cover it with bravado. Orion lifted her into his arms, smoothed her hair back from her face, and kissed her cheek. "You're a big girl now, Bella," he said. "Remember everything I taught you. Make me proud."

"Yes, sir," Bella said, nodding solemnly.

A rare smile touched Orion's lips. "There's my star." He set her down and gave her a nudge towards the train. As Bellatrix trotted towards it, she glanced over her shoulder at her family. The crowd soon blocked the shorter figures of Narcissa and Sirius, and even Clytemnestra, but Orion, ever the bastion, stood above them all, and his were the last eyes Bellatrix saw before climbing aboard the train.

"Bellatrix! Bellatrix!"

Bella turned around to see a girl her own age with short auburn curls hailing her. It was her cousin, Magdalena Warrington, who was also starting school this year, though she was only a few weeks away from her twelfth birthday. Bellatrix had always considered that Magdalena's company paled in comparison to that of her favourite cousin, but Sirius wasn't here now, and wouldn't be until the next September, and she was just going to have to make her peace with that. Magdalena was on the better side of tolerable, and so Bellatrix joined her without hesitation.

Magdalena was a plain girl, average height for her age, and with no terribly striking features. She had intelligence, however, and smiled when Bellatrix caught up with her. "There's an empty compartment here," she said, gesturing.

"Let's get it before some older students beat us to it, then," Bellatrix replied, sliding past her.

The two girls started stowing their belongings, then settled down, Bellatrix with her small owl Lilith in a cage next to her, and Magdalena with her brown tabby cat, a creature as unremarkable and unoffensive as its owner, in her lap. "Did you have a--Er. Uhm. A nice summer?" Magdalena had been asking the question automatically, in the polite way that everyone had been doing all day and would continue doing all night whenever they saw old acquaintances, but she had remembered herself halfway through, recalling that she had a very good idea of what Bellatrix's summer must have been like. The story still wasn't out of the headlines; just that morning, The Quibbler claimed to have gotten an interview with Andromeda, and there was a small piece in The Daily Prophet on Bellatrix's marriage prospects, now that she was the wealthiest heiress in wizarding Britain. Magdalena, for her part, felt it very unfair that her cousin should have to put up with such scrutiny, and couldn't imagine why The Daily Prophet should be interested in an eleven-year-old's marriage prospects.

But Bellatrix didn't miss a beat, despite Magdalena's stammering. "It was quite pleasant, thank you," she shamelessly lied. "I just wish we'd traveled. Other than going to see Uncle Alphard in Wales, that is, but Wales doesn't really count as a holiday. I wanted to go someplace proper, like France or Italy, but we never seemed to find the time."

Magdalena blinked her plain brown eyes, impressed at how neatly Bellatrix had answered, as though there had been no disturbance to her life at all. It didn't sound like Bella, though, and that was what troubled Magdalena. "Well, I'm sure you kept busy enough. How is Narcissa?"

"As empty-headed as ever," Bellatrix snorted. "Yours?"

Magdalena's eyes flitted to the door, as though she expected preemptive retribution for her words. "As tyrannical as ever." Delphinia Warrington was only a year older than Magdalena, but had been terrorizing her for years, in much the same way that Bellatrix picked on Narcissa.

Bellatrix, though, chose not to recognise this parallel. Magdalena was her age, and thus her natural ally. "Well, no need to worry anymore," she said, smiling slightly. "She wouldn't dare harp on you with me about." Magdalena could only hope that was true. Her mother feared the Blacks as much as she revered them, and if Delphinia had inherited that (as Magdalena surely had), then Magda would find her own position improved.

Just then, there came a knock at the compartment door. Magdalena reached over and slid it aside, revealing two more girls their own age, one a sweet-faced blonde, the other with her dark hair in a short bob. "Might we join you?" the blonde asked. "Nearly everywhere else is full."

Magdalena looked ready to let them right in, but Bellatrix was quick to ask, "Who are you?"

The brunette looked slightly ruffled, but the blonde just tittered, blushing slightly. "I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself first. I'm Elyse Eldridge, and this is Clio Eversleigh."

Bellatrix looked them both over for a moment, then nodded them in. Eldridge and Eversleigh were both good pureblooded names; not so fine as her own, of course, but then precious few cognomens were.

"Oh, thank you!" Elyse said, smiling, and she and Clio came in, shut the door, and started arranging their belongings. Shyly, Elyse scrutinised her new companions a little more closely. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you are," she said to Magdalena, "but you're... well, you're Bellatrix Black, aren't you?" Bella nodded, thinking it only natural that everyone should know who she was. "I-I recognised you from the pictures in the paper."

Magdalena noticed Bellatrix stiffen, and moved swiftly to ameliorate. "I'm Magdalena Warrington," she said, preventing further discussion of just why Bella's picture had been in the papers. "Her cousin. What branch of the Eldridges are you from?"

"My father is Daniel," she replied. "Second son of a second son." This was said with an air of practised recitation, one that crept into the tones of many young people of their class, who had become accustomed to giving their pedigree. Folding her skirts beneath her, Elyse plunked herself down next to Bellatrix, as Clio sat beside Magdalena. The train was beginning to hum with motion, and all four girls jolted slightly as it jerked into acceleration. "So," Elyse said in her chipper voice, clearly bent on keeping up conversation. "I suppose you're not at all worried about what House you'll end up in, are you, Miss Black?"

"Not in the least," Bellatrix immediately replied.

"Why not?" Clio asked, which made Elyse laugh.

"Oh, Miss Eversleigh," she tittered, "every member of the Black family has been in Slytherin, as far back as anyone has cared to keep records."

Clio blinked. "Oh."

One of Bellatrix's dark eyebrows had arched at Elyse. "Are you worried, then?"

"Not worried, precisely," Elyse cheerfully replied. "Most of my cousins are in Slytherin, so I'd like to be there, but my family has turned out its fair share of Ravenclaws as well. Actually!" Her voice was bright, and her brown eyes lit up. "My cousin Marina is Head Girl this year, and she's in Ravenclaw." Bellatrix made a mental note of this fact; it would of course have been preferable for a Slytherin to be Head Girl, and thus win House loyalty from someone in power, but a blood tie to a potential friend would do just as well, even if it was to a Ravenclaw.

"Nothing wrong with Ravenclaw," Magdalena said. "Or at least very little. My mum was there. Papa, of course, was Slytherin." Bellatrix nodded; their fathers had been friends in school, and remained of the same set as adults.

Conversation continued pleasantly for most of the journey, idle chatter between young girls. Magdalena watched carefully to make sure the conversation didn't turn towards anything that would set off Bellatrix's temper, and skillfully steered around any and all obstacles. Mostly Magdalena was able to keep the discussion pleasant, allowing Bellatrix to act as though she were holding court. No doubt this would be a constant state of affairs for the next seven years, and Magdalena considered it best that everyone get used to it. Elyse, at least, didn't seem to mind, more than willing to chatter about whatever Bellatrix or Magdalena suggested; she was pleasant enough and rather bubbly, and reminded Bellatrix of an extraverted form of her younger sister. Clio, for all she could tell, was mostly just dim, contributing little to the conversation, and giving off no aura of intelligence whatsoever.

Only when a few boys passed their compartment did Bellatrix's expression turn mean. "What?" Magdalena asked, sensing the shift.

"That," Bella said, "was Rodolphus Lestrange." She stood, leaning to look out into the corridor. The boys, it seemed, were following the snack trolley, taking the opportunity to pound on a few windows and harass a few Hufflepuff first-years as they went along.

Magdalena, who had not forgotten Bellatrix's first meeting with the elder Lestrange brother, paled slightly as Bella slid open the compartment door. "Uhm, Bellatrix, d'you really think--"

But Bella's wand was already in her hand; she had not forgotten the boy, either, nor her vow to get revenge on him the next time they met. "He has this coming," she said in a low voice, peering down the corridor. Magdalena stood as well, pressing next to Bellatrix to watch. Rodolphus was about three compartments away with a few other boys his own age, waiting in line for the snack trolley, and had not noticed the door opening behind him. Smirking, Bellatrix pointed her wand at Rodolphus' ankles and muttered, "Supplanto," the incantation for the Trip-Jinx. She grinned in victory as Rodolphus jerked slightly, then crashed to the carpeted floor, provoking snickers from his companions.

As Rodolphus fell, Magdalena winced and tried to pull Bellatrix back inside their compartment. But Bellatrix refused to hide; she wanted Lestrange to know who had jinxed him. "My, you're bold..." Elyse was saying from near the window, looking something between startled and impressed.

Lestrange got angrily to his feet and immediately began searching about for his attacker. When he saw Bellatrix, his dark eyes filled with rage and his cheeks flushed. Behind him, one of his friends, Henry Flint, could hardly control his laughter. "A girl!" he was chortling. "You just got jinxed by a girl!"

Not looking as though this fact had escaped him, Rodolphus stormed up to Bellatrix. "What do you think you're doing, Black?" he snarled.

Fluttering her eyelashes in a patently false expression of innocence, Bellatrix replied, "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, Lestrange."

"Oh, really?" The voice did not belong to Lestrange, but rather came from the other direction of the corridor. Bellatrix whipped about and found herself eye-level with a prefect's badge.

"Oh, hell," she breathed, posture deflating slightly. He must have been coming up the train car and seen her cast the jinx from behind.

The prefect, an older Gryffindor boy with short brown hair, scowled slightly. "Since the term hasn't actually begun yet," he said, "I'm afraid I can't take points for either the jinxing or the profanity. But I'll be keeping my eye on you, Miss--"

"Black," Bellatrix sullenly replied, her fierce eyes narrowed. "And you are?"

The prefect looked mildly astonished to be spoken to in such a fashion by a first-year. "Daniel Prewett," he replied. "And as I'm a prefect, you'll show a little more respect, if you please."

Lestrange laughed, prompting Bellatrix to whip around again. "You hush, or I'll give you something worse than a little stumble!" she snapped.

"Miss Black!" Prewett said, raising his voice and grabbing her shoulder. He turned her about to face him, despite Bellatrix's affronted look at being handled so. "I'm afraid you'll find that at school you will not be permitted to hex your fellows as you please."

Bellatrix stared the prefect down for a long moment. Lestrange's smirk grew nastier and more amused by the second. "Fine," she said at long last, in a very calm and even tone, and slid her wand back into her pocket. Affecting contrition, Bellatrix turned slowly back towards Lestrange. "I won't hex him, then."

Before either Lestrange or Prewett could react to stop her, Bellatrix's small hand, curled into a fist, connected sharply with Lestrange's well-shaped nose.

Amazingly, Lestrange recovered before Prewett did, and wasted no time diving at his attacker. Bellatrix had been expecting retaliation, however, and was in the process of boxing Lestrange's ears when Prewett yanked them apart. Lestrange looked furious, and his nose was bleeding no little bit, but he churlishly allowed himself to be led away by another prefect that Prewett had summoned. Prewett, in the meantime, launched into a lengthy allocution regarding the school's various punishments for fighting, with a wand or otherwise. Before he disappeared from her sight, Lestrange shot Bellatrix a final murderous glare, holding the sleeve of his robes to his still-bloody nose.

And even with Prewett's lecture ringing in her ears, Bellatrix couldn't help but realize that, for the first time since June, she really felt better.