Sparkling Stars

Bella

Bella came out of her mother screaming. The bright lights, the sickly smell of blood-mingled sweat, the cacophony of noises, the flashes of unfamiliar sights that her little eyes couldn't quite place, they all assaulted her senses. No wonder she came out screaming, like almost all babies do.

Except most babies are welcomed into the world by a gentle hold and a soothing murmur of pride. Bellatrix Black was not. Whipped up into the air as soon as she was completely free of her mother, she was perfunctorily washed down in warm water, rubbed briskly dry with a towel and handed to her mother with an overly-cheery, "A beautiful healthy girl, Lady Druella."

Startled at her rapid changes of position, Bella squirmed in the new person's arms and tried to nuzzle closer, but the arms that held her refused to relax. In fact, they pushed her away as a voice said, "Take her through to Lord Black. Ask him what her name shall be."

"Yes, milady."

Yet again, Bella found herself being swept up and carried off. All this insecurity was unsettling and so she was whimpering as, yet again, she was placed into someone else's hold.

But this pair of arms did relax. They did pull her closer. A pair of onyx eyes held her big ones and smiled into them proudly. A soft fingertip petted the top of her head as a voice said, "Ah, so you didn't like being born, did you? You've got some spirit, my girl. My little warrior. My little Bellatrix Zealous Black."

Soothed by the note of pride in his voice, Bella quietened, enjoying the feel of his arms around her. But, all too soon, it was over. All too soon, he was taking her back into the other room and placing her back into the unrelenting arms of the woman in the bed. She whimpered as his arms left her, but hushed as he laid a gentle hand on her head, "They're Edelweiss," he whispered, "Edelweiss for noble purity. Edelweiss for the birth of our Black Princess."

She knew he wasn't talking to her; knew he was talking to the person who hovered above her head, but she liked the note of pride in his voice; liked the feel of his hand on her head and so she stayed quiet.

But then he left the room. Left the room and left her in the untender mercies of the women. Where had he gone? Why didn't he come back? Bella screamed and kicked for him to come back, not to abandon her, but to no avail. Instead, there was a deafening "Crack!" and a few harsh words spoken over her head, "Take her up to the nursery, Blinka. The nurse will know what to do with her," and then she was borne off to yet another room, this one cold and uninviting, there to lie, sobbing, in a cot, until her nurse deigned it time for her first feed.

It was dark and late, long past time for a four month old infant such as Bellatrix to be asleep, but the little girl wasn't. Instead, she was roaring angrily. Roaring angrily being walked up and down the nursery by a half-tearful nursemaid, who was trying to sing under her breath.

"Blow the wind, blow;

Swift and low;

Blow the wind o'er the ocean.

Breakers rolling to the coastline;

Bringing ships to harbour".

The girl's voice kept catching, ruining the supposedly soothing rhythm of the melody and eventually she just gave up, "Oh, Miss Bellatrix, why won't you just go to sleep!" she begged.

Bellatrix gave no answer, merely paused to draw breath into her lungs and then roared once more.

While she was roaring, the door of the nursery opened and Lady Druella looked in.

"Helen, it is late. I am tired and am trying to sleep. What part of "Put my daughter to bed", are you too stupid to understand?"

"I am trying, milady, I promise! She just won't settle! I don't know why! She's fed, she's dry, she's everything I can think of. She just won't settle!"

"Then leave her to cry."

"But, milady…"

"I said, Leave her! Do as you're told."

Reluctantly, Helen laid the wailing baby back into her large, ornate, crib and went over to the other side of the room to tidy away the tiny clothes that lay scattered in front of the fireplace. Meanwhile, Lady Druella leaned down over the howling baby.

"And you be quiet and stay quiet, do you hear me? I don't want to have to come up here again. If I have to, I'll make you regret it, understand?" she hissed.

Bella didn't understand, of course. She couldn't even speak yet. Let alone understand such complicated words as "regret". But she could understand the hate in the woman's hiss. As such, her only answer was yet another half-injured, half-contemptuous howl.

Lady Druella sniffed. "Hoyden," she whispered, before turning on her heel and stalking out of the nursery.

A few minutes later, Lord Cygnus, heard his daughter crying as he passed her nursery on his way to sleeping in his drawing room. Puzzled as to why she wasn't asleep yet, he pushed the door open.

The most peculiar sight met his eyes. Bellatrix, so angry she had flung off all her blankets in her rage, lay puce and screaming in her cot and the nursemaid, the very girl who was supposed to be soothing her, knelt by the fire, her head slumped on her breast as she snored contentedly.

Cygnus almost woke her to scold her for not taking better care of his Princess, but at the last second, a stab of pity overcame him. if even half of Druella's complaints about the child were true, then Bellatrix must be a very difficult child indeed. Perhaps he'd let Helen – or was it Jane? - sleep for once.

Crossing the room to stand by the cot, he reached down to take his little girl into his arms.

"Now, why won't you sleep, hmm, Amazona? Let's see what a father's touch can do."

He rocked her gently.

Bella felt the large, gentle arms pick her up; heard her favourite voice murmur something to her, but she was too tired to notice what it was. All she knew was that Papa was back. He'd come back to her.

Content at last, she was asleep in seconds.

"Miss Bellatrix, come on! You have to come back to the nursery now. What would Papa say if he knew you were being naughty?" Beatrice Woodson, nurse to the Black heiress, raced after her little charge and caught hold of her, encircling the small waist with her hands and hanging on to the eighteen month old toddler with all her strength, hoping against hope that the mention of her Papa would be enough to calm the child into doing what she was told. There was a fifty-fifty chance it would be.

"Miss Bellatrix, come on! You have to come back to the nursery now. What would Papa say if he knew you were being naughty?"

Bella heard the words, but she scoffed at them in her head. Was Nanny Woodson stupid? Couldn't she see that Bella wasn't going anywhere? She wasn't going up to the boring old nursery where nothing ever happened! No, she was staying right here, where all the pretty glasses were making happy rainbows and where she'd get to see Papa soon. He was bound to come in here eventually. He always came in here when all the pretty glasses were on the table. And he always made time for her before he did anything else. And even if he didn't, she'd at least get to see more of what was going on from in here than she would in the boring old nursery.

But Nanny was holding her and picking her up. Bella hated being picked up, unless it was Papa picking her up. It usually meant she was going to be put somewhere she didn't want to be.

"No! NO! NO GO!" She screamed, lashing out fiercely, kicking and screaming as she fought to get her way.

Suddenly, her head started to get very hot. A massive burst of energy exploded out of her. There was an almighty crash and then the sound of a waterfall of tinkling glass.

Despite herself, Bella screamed. She closed her eyes.

But when she dared look and realised that every single glass on the table was broken, without anyone having gone near them, she beamed. That was her. It had to have been her. Papa was going to be so proud!

"Nanny! Nanny, me! Me magic! Me magic!"

She struggled around in Nanny's arms and tugged impatiently on Nanny's sleeve. Why wasn't she proud and clapping like Papa would be? She'd done magic! Magic! Why wasn't Nanny proud?"

"Me Magic!" She repeated insistently. She kicked out , trying but failing to stamp her foot to get Nanny's attention. At last she bucked violently and felt Nanny let her free. She tumbled to the floor, picked herself up without crying like she usually would have done after a bump like that, and ran off in search of Papa. He'd be proud of her when she told him what had happened. He was always proud of her.

Beatrice felt Miss Bellatrix bucking in her arms and let her drop to the floor almost without realising. She was still reeling from the strength of the child's first magic…and what it had been. After all, it was common knowledge that a child's first magic was reminiscent of their character; of the person they'd grow up to be. And look how powerful Miss Bellatrix's first magic had been. How powerful and destructive.

Not for the first time, Beatrice felt her heart skip a beat of both terror and relief. Terror at how unpredictable the next few weeks and months would be with Miss Bellatrix and relief at the fact that she wouldn't be the girl's governess when she was older.

"I pity whoever will be. She'll grow up to be such a handful." Beatrice thought, then shook her head and rushed out of the room in search of her young charge. Merlin only knew what kind of trouble she'd be getting into now that she could do magic…