Infatuation

She was raised in a dark, powerful pureblood family. They were known as the Blacks. She was the first born of three daughters, a disappointment to their father when they had first been born, who had always wanted a son. But she turned out to be no disappointment, despite her gender.

Her hair was long and black, wavy and usually rather unkempt. They named her Bellatrix because Remulus Black loved Italy, and she had been conceived in Italy. Bellatrix meant beautiful in Italian. The idea had come from Holly Black, but he had liked it.

They were the kind of couple others envied. They had been betrothed before birth, like so many others in their time, but were deeply in love. And anyone could see it, despite how they tried to hide it. Even after eight years of marriage, his dark eyes lit up whenever she entered a room. Whenever he spoke to her, you could tell she was going to remember everything he said, and the way he had looked while he did so. She loved everything about him.

Because of that, Remulus learnt to cope with the fact that he would be living in a manor full of women for the rest of his life.

A year after Bellatrix, Andromeda came about. And then Narcissa two years after Bellatrix. Narcissa had pale blonde hair, while Bellatrix had dark black hair, and Andromeda had brown hair. All three of them had fair skin. It was an odd array of colors between the all of them, but somehow worked.

As they grew, they began to attend the balls, functions, events, and charities that their family or other families held. Voldemort had not quite yet risen, so Remulus had the time to stay and enjoy his family.

Holly Black wanted her daughters to all attend Hogwarts, the school she had gone to. Remulus, however, had attended Durmstrang, and was determined to send his three daughters to that school.

As Bellatrix reached the age of seven, she, as any other pureblood girl learned proper etiquette and dancing. This took her a long time, seeing as she liked to play outside with her younger sisters, the harsh wind flopping her ebony hair to and fro, tangling it all in disarray.

Classes went off to a rough start. Her mother began to teach her the proper way to set a table and what order to eat each course and appetizer in. Bellatrix was far more accustomed to enjoying the food at different times, stopping midway through a salad to take a giant slab of beef.

One of her main problems was table setting. She tended to lick a used spoon clean enough to use it again. But her Mother insisted she use all these different spoons for different courses and it was driving her mad. Yet, it took surprisingly a short amount of time for her to perfect the skill of eating properly.

Walking was a bit tougher, as she had to walk with confidence and suggest she was superior to the moronic Mudbloods. And it was rather different than her regular jumpy and giddy walk. That had taken her a few weeks to perfect.

Dancing, however, was by far the hardest skill. She continued to step all over her instructor's toes, knock him over, trip on the hems of her skirts, flop lazily around, giggle, and do anything else that could upset a heavyset French dance instructor.

After nearly eight months, she was beginning to act much more like a lady. The annual Black Christmas Ball was approaching, and she was expected to attend and show off her newly acquired skills.

She had yet to learn how to dress properly, but her mother would pick out her clothes until she had attained that skill. The ball was still half a month away, but her mother had chosen a maroon pair of dress robes to suit her perfectly.

In addition, Bellatrix learnt that this ball would introduce her to the rest of the pureblood world. She was expected to walk properly around the ball, introducing herself to everyone in there. That way, she would be known. Her mother had her practice her social skills on several people in the manor before the big night.

Social skills, however, were the least of her problems. She talked sometimes so much that even her little sisters would excuse themselves from the room, just for a bit of peace and quiet.

Bellatrix didn't care what people thought of her. Yes, she planned to impress her Mum at this ball by using all the skills she knew, but she didn't plan to be a stuck up prat, like so many purebloods she'd seen.

As the ball drew closer, she sat with her two sisters in the toy room, fiddling with dolls and other childhood toys. Bellatrix was holding a small model of a unicorn, only because the fur was as soft as the real thing.

"Bella," Narcissa began, averting her gaze from her toy Quidditch players to her oldest sister. "Is Mummy going to make us marry someone?"

"Probably," Bellatrix answered lazily. "It's called betrothal."

"What if we get married to some old toad?" Andromeda piped in from her spot by the doll house.

"Then you'll just have to live with it." Bellatrix snapped, sighing in discontent.

"I hope Mummy pairs me with someone handsome." Narcissa replied dreamily, twirling her white blonde hair around her fingers.

"Oh, like Lucius Malfoy!" Andromeda squealed. She, being seven, had seen Lucius and was fairly infatuated with him. As was Narcissa, which had become a problem.

"He's so gorgeous..." Narcissa continued on, finally dropping her hair to dangle with the rest of its waves.

"He's a prat," Bellatrix said truthfully, and the two girls turned to their sister.

"He's not a prat! He's just quiet," Andromeda pleaded, forgetting the doll house in the midst of their conversation.

"Malfoy isn't quiet, he's ignoring you," Bellatrix replied bluntly with a sigh.

"Well, what if Mum betroths you to him?" Narcissa asked, her stormy eyes narrowed.

"Then I'll commit suicide," Bellatrix said with a short grin.

It was later that week that the ball was to take place. Holly Black had been particularly concerned about Bellatrix's appearance, so concerned that Bella had been woken at five in the morning to prepare.

"Mother, the ball isn't until six this evening," she whined as the maid ran a brush through her hair.

"Yes, I know, but you must be prepared. Now, did we pick the black, green, or maroon robes for you?" Holly questioned worriedly, quickly scanning the closet.

"Maroon," Bellatrix answered, only because that was her favorite color. She had no idea which one they had really decided on.

It was nearly an hour later that the maid had perfected her hair, an elegant bun at the back of her head with curly strands hanging down beside her face. She slipped into the maroon dress with help of her Mum, then into the flat black shoes. She would die in heels; that'd been proved in her walking lessons.

It was only seven in the morning, and she was absolutely ready because of her

So she slipped off the shoes and woke her two sisters, who grudgingly got up.

"Come on, let's play a game," Bellatrix pleaded.

"But Bella, it's only seven..." Andromeda muttered grumpily as she slipped on her robes.

"I know. But I'm bored," Bellatrix replied as Narcissa flopped into the room, already full of energy.

Finally after they were all dressed, Bellatrix lead them out back to the Quidditch pitch. The girls weren't allowed to go out on the pitch on their own.

"Sissy, what're we doing?" Narcissa asked, trotting to catch up with her sister's strides.

"We're going to fly a real broomstick," Bellatrix replied fingering the keys in her hand, which she had stolen from her father's study.

When they reached the broom shed, Bellatrix opened it with the key, and pulled out three of the five brooms inside.

After handing two of them to her sisters, she climbed atop the last and kicked off, hovering just above the ground like she had so many times on a toy broom. She had wobbled horribly at first, but did better in a short amount of time. She had no idea why she was out here wearing her dress robes with her hair all done and everything. Holly would kill them for this.

Narcissa and Andromeda hesitantly followed. It was a near hour later that all of them had become a bit better at flying but none of them had very much skill at it just yet.

Bellatrix loved the feeling of the wind whipping through her hair as she flew through the air as fast as the out-of-date broom she rode on could go. Wait... Her hair! It had fallen out of his bun and was flopping in untidy curls behind her. Oh no. There was no way her mother wouldn't know she had been out riding brooms.

Holly hated Quidditch. Well, with men, she didn't mind it. She had actually once said she thought a man that played Quidditch was far more appealing. Not that Bellatrix cared, but that's what her mother had said.

However, Holly hated to see women play Quidditch. She thought it was a dirty sport that no women should endure, only men. And to see her three daughters racing around on broomsticks on the pitch was certainly not going to over joy her.

Nearly an hour and a half after they had come out, Bellatrix landed sloppily on the ground, slipping off the broom and waiting impatiently for her sisters, who promptly flopped onto the ground rather than dismounting. She collected their brooms and put them away, closing the shed and locking it. Shoving the keys in her pocket, she led the other two back inside, hoping to sneak in through the back door.

She reached the back door and opened it quietly, only to see an infuriated Holly Black staring at them.

"Mum!" Bellatrix exclaimed in surprise as the three girls filed in. Mud had splattered some of their robes, and Bellatrix's hair was in disarray.

"I can't believe it! I sent elves to look for you everywhere, and not one of the blundering idiots thought to check the stupid Quidditch pitch! I don't know why Remulus insisted we put that in there, it's barbaric and obviously the three of you thought you simply HAD to try it out! Oh, Bellatrix, look at you! It's nearly nine in the morning, and you look terrible. All of you go and take a bath and Bellatrix, be ready by noon for the maid to come in and fix you up. Give your robes to the elves; you'll just have to wear the green," Holly growled loudly in frustration, pointing at the stairs. The three hurried up to them, quickly out of sight.

By six that evening, all three girls had been thoroughly cleaned up. Bellatrix looking the best with dark bottle green robes on and her hair fixed to its previous state. She was waiting patiently in the sitting room for guests, while Andromeda and Narcissa fantasized about what color robes Lucius Malfoy would be wearing. He was Bellatrix's age, and she'd be going to school with him, which was very upsetting for her.

The first to arrive were the Averys, who had yet to bear a child. Bellatrix knew that Avery was a cruel hearted man, and his wife was way too young for him. The Rookwoods arrived after that, then their relatives. Sirius Black, their young cousin, was constantly bouncing about and being loud.

Several other darker wizarding families arrived, and then the Malfoys.

Lucius was fairly handsome. He had pale blonde hair that was cut nicely and storm gray eyes. He was already tall at the age of eight, but not nearly as tall as his pale father.

He strode over to Bellatrix, a smirk on his thin pink lips.

"Good evening, Bellatrix," he drawled, causing her two younger sisters to stare daggers at her.

"Evening, Lucius. You remember my sisters, Andromeda and Narcissa? I'll leave you to them; I have something to take care of." Bellatrix replied coolly, walking gracefully away.

Half an hour into the ball, the manor was filled with chatting people. A few brave couples were waltzing gracefully and perfectly to the song being played live from a string quartet.

Lucius was dancing with a ten year old girl that Bellatrix didn't recognize, but he was much taller than her, and she frankly didn't care.

Several adults were enjoying themselves mingling about. A lot of the younger couples were dancing, as well as a few of the older ones. She spotted her own parents among the couples, grinning and whispering to each other.

Bellatrix saw them like that several times, though the other couples their age were either looking at them enviously or ignoring each other completely.

She hadn't really comprehended just yet how in love her parents were. Betrothal had not yet crossed her mind, nor the mere idea of marrying someone you didn't love. According to her mother, Holly hadn't even met Remulus until their wedding day. That would be really odd, Bellatrix thought, because you wouldn't even know which one was your fiancé!

She experimented with the foods laid out, ignoring her surroundings and the sound of a family coming rather late to attend the party. Every year, someone came very late due to family problems or another reason. She used to rush to the door to see who it was, as Narcissa and Andromeda were now doing, but now chose not to.

Nearly two hours into the ball, she had sat down and sipped the fruit punch. The adults were drinking champagne and wine, and some of the more rowdy ones getting a bit tipsy.

She decided to slip away from the party and walk around for a while, only to clear her head. She was feeling dazed and tired. A good walk around the corridors would do her some good.

She walked down the stairs to the lowest level, which was only one level below the ball. She carefully walked through the corridors, making sure to avoid all the rooms her father had advised her not to enter. She imagined that there was some sort of Potions lab down here, and a dark library with darker books, though surely he had some spell making them look like boring how-to books.

She didn't expect, however, to see someone down the dimly lit corridors, observing a painting with both hands behind his back. She knew which one he was looking at. It was her father's prized Red Tang Silhouette that he adored. But it was huge and would barely fit upstairs, so he had placed it grudgingly down in the empty dungeons.

However, Bellatrix wasn't paying much attention to the painting, more to the boy. He was gorgeous.

His dark hair was slightly shaggy, framing his head and face in a way that no other pureblood boy would wear it. Every other boy had it cut nicely and looking strict. But this boy's hair gave him a more wild look, possibly. His skin was darker than the norm, and he was nearly as tall as Lucius. Even at this young age, he seemed very well built.

She had to talk to him. But what would she say? And how on earth would she prevent herself from staring at him?

As she drew closer, she noted his dark brown eyes, high cheekbones, and slightly perky nose.

"Excuse me," Bellatrix whispered after she composed herself, now standing directly next to him. He had not yet looked over.

"Good evening," he replied without missing a beat as if he had known she was there the whole time.

"I don't believe we've met," Bellatrix carried on, desperate to make conversation with him as his eyes trailed back to the painting.

"No, I don't believe we have," he answered, finally tearing his eyes away from the painting to look at her. She could've fainted, but managed to keep herself composed, even if her eyes were boring into his.

"Bellatrix Black," she told him, holding out her pale hand.

"Rodolphus Lestrange," he stated, his dark hand bringing her own to his lips before he briefly kissed it and allowed it back to her.

"So... Do you like the painting?" Bellatrix asked after a moment of silence in which she stared at him and he looked back at the painting.

"It's interesting. You can see he made a blending mistake above the left brow, and that the floor is uneven," he said professionally, and she looked to it, examining the places he had pointed out.

"How could you tell?" she asked. Her father had stared at this painting for practically three days straight before he bought it and couldn't pinpoint a single flaw.

"It's fairly obvious. This artist drew the sketch with it turned slightly to the side, but attempted to fix it with paint. It's a mess," he observed, and Bellatrix's jaw dropped.

"You really have a talent for pointing out mistakes," she managed to reply; trying to see what he was talking about.

"Thank you, Miss Black," he nodded, and Bellatrix waited in silence.

"So are you going to Hogwarts?" she queried, unable to stand still.

"Yes, but not for three years," Rodolphus responded, and Bellatrix calculated to see he'd be in her year.

"Me too!" she answered a bit too excitedly.

He turned and raised a dark eyebrow.

"Very well," he replied, nodding politely and walking down the hall back to the Ball. For a moment, Bellatrix watched in content peace as he trailed off, but then looked back to the painting.

She was very tempted to follow him, to carry on the conversation. She didn't know why at first, but as she recollected over their conversation and her first impression of him, a small smile crept onto her face.

And that was when the infatuation began.