A Threat and a Promise

A Threat and a Promise

It was the 14th of February, her seventh and last year at Hogwarts, and she had never received a Valentine's Day card. This was perhaps unsurprising. Bellatrix had friends among the boys as much as the girls, in that she passed the time of day pleasantly enough, joined in games and parties (though leaving well before the end) and exchanged letters by Owl post in the holidays, but she could hardly be described as particularly close to anyone with the exception of her sisters, and the deep-set black eyes and sharp tongue did not encourage confidences. They certainly did not encourage Valentine's Day cards, especially to a girl who could surely break any supposedly unbreakable handwriting disguise placed thereon. A boy would have to be mad to send a card to Bella. Or he wouldn't be a boy.

It was even more so in her seventh year than in the previous six. Bella had changed. Her sisters, even the teachers, could see it. She had always been self-contained, rather sarcastic, a little standoffish; she stood admirable, but apart. She was still these things, but she had become something else as well. It was hard to put one's finger on, but that it was not the simple aura of the successful Head Girl. She was the same as ever, yet she had something else. Malfoy would have recognised it; he would have called it power.

And yet, today Bellatrix had received two Owls, one recognisably a school beast, the other brown and commercial. Over at the Gryffindor table, her cousin Sirius wolf-whistled as the envelopes fell into her lap. She narrowed her eyes at him and he sat back down hurriedly, blushing scarlet and looking rather tired. He had in fact spent much of the night working to dissuade James Potter from completely humiliating himself by delivering a box of heart-shaped chocolates to Lily Evans via a gigantic self-propelling chocolate broomstick. A broomstick's just a broomstick, a bemused James had protested, while Sirius insisted, through clenched teeth in a manner that ultimately brooked no argument, no it really wasn't, and especially when strawberry-flavoured.

Bellatrix turned her attention to the envelopes. Secretive she might be, but she preferred to keep secrecy for things that mattered. It was hardly sensible to give people a reason to snoop, and besides, only things that mattered could be embarrassing. She opened the first envelope, shaking the card out onto the table. It was hand-made, a white rose cut from some sort of paper lace and glued onto sheet of stiff black card. She supposed that it was actually quite attractive. As she opened the card a scent drifted out, a real rose scent, green and sharp and tickling the back of the nose. Inside there was a short note. For Bellatrix, she read aloud, In admiration, because I had to tell you once.

'Well, that's daring,' said Rabastan, drily. Across the table, Andromeda smirked.

'It's once more than you've managed,' she pointed out. Bellatrix, however said nothing. Instead she took her wand from her pocket, laid the card out flat, and tapped the wandtip against it once. Nothing happened. Grimacing, she tried again, hitting the card a bit harder. Again nothing. The third time, a thunderclap sounded above the Slytherin table, blowing the students back in their seats.

'Now that's impressive,' murmured Wilkes, surveying the shocked faces around the Great Hall.

'Indeed,' said Bellatrix. 'A talented young man. The student who can do that should go far.' She turned her head slowly, surveying the assembled Slytherins, smiled briskly as she propped the card against the toast rack, and turned her attention to the second package. The brown paper revealed a flimsy sheet of printed parchment, and a slim book.

'What's that one?' asked Rosier, craning forwards.

'A co-incidence.' Bellatrix picked up the volume to examine it. It wasn't second-hand, Andromeda noted, as she had first thought, only old and unused. It looked as if it had lain for decades in a back storeroom. She squinted at the cover and read The Good Student.

'Don't be ridiculous,' Bellatrix was saying, 'Do you really think all normal post stops on Valentine's Day? It's from Flourish and Blotts. Now hurry up with breakfast, everyone. We don't want Slytherin to lose any points because the love-struck are late for lessons.'

The hall was emptying. Under Bellatrix's eye, they ate hurriedly, and peeled away one by one for the common room. Down the long table, Severus Snape concentrated on his porridge. He hadn't seen, but nonetheless he knew that in the moments her glance had raked them, it had rested, just for a moment, on him.

*

Bellatrix balanced the parchment bill upon the windowsill of one of the girls' lavatories, and muttered 'Incendio!' The edges flamed and curled, and she crushed the grey ghost to ash and blew it across the paintwork. Letters formed in long curling lines, covered in little spikes like thorns, Lest you forget.