Bellatrix Black glared over at the Gryffindor house table; her dark eyes set on a young boy laughing with a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl – the kind of girl that spent ninety percent of her vapid, shallow life giggling and flicking her hair about, and the rest of it boring others with her monotonous droning. The kind of girl that emanated such sickly cuteness that if Bellatrix watched a moment longer, she felt she might throw up. She instead fixed her gaze upon the boy; he was tall, athletic... a chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, she knew. His name was Asgard Fleet.
"Bella, you're staring at the mudblood again!" Came the angry whisper of Narcissa Black, her brows knitted together in a frown. Bellatrix slammed her fork down, causing anyone within earshot to look around at the two sisters – as contrasting in looks as they were in attitudes. "Don't be ridiculous Cissy. Keep your voice down!" Even as she frantically whispered this, her eyes followed the boy as he walked out of the Great Hall, alone. "You shouldn't allow your imagination to run away with you so easily." She told Narcissa coldly, as she rose from her seat. As she walked the length of the table to leave the Hall, eyes followed her. Smirking in spite of herself, Bellatrix knew she had always had the power to turn heads wherever she went. She could not blame them; with her long, jet black, wild curls, dark features and tall, model-esque physique, she knew that many men would give their right arm to be with her; a pity that very few were lucky enough to even dream of it.
That night, after everyone in her dorm was asleep; Bellatrix pulled on her cloak and left the Slytherin Common Room. She pulled up her hood and stuck to the shadows – she was in no mood to deal with Filch for being caught out of bed after hours, she was never one for playing by the rules anyway. As she approached the main doors that led to the Hogwarts grounds, she heard light footsteps behind her. Turning around swiftly, she stood silent and still, wand at the ready. Deciding it must have been her imagination, she pushed the doors open and felt the chilly draft brush over her, causing her hair to whip around her face and her cloak to fan out behind her. She looked across the darkened grounds, checked behind her once more then pulled out her wand. "Lumous," she whispered before making her way towards the Forbidden Forrest.
Clambering through the thicket of trees, her cloak snagging on stray branches, she held her wand high in order to light the path ahead of her. She frequently heard rustling behind her, but there were many creatures lying within the depths of the Forbidden Forrest. After a few minutes patches of moonlight began to flicker through the branches as the trees began to thin. Bellatrix sped up and soon reached a clearing deep within the Forrest. Looking around, all was still and silent; not a soul was in sight, and she frowned slightly.
Without a warning, another light appeared from behind her; she tensed and immediately raised her wand, ready to curse whatever the source was. A figure stepped out from the shadows, grinning. "Who else would you expect, Lestrange?" Asked the tall figure as he stepped into the light, mere inches away from Bellatrix. Smirking, she slowly removed her cloak and threw it to the ground. "Nobody but you, Fleet." After a moment of silence, the pair passionately locked lips without another word. Suddenly Bellatrix thought she heard a faint gasp; pulling away immediately and glared into the darkness of the trees. "What's wrong?" Ask Fleet, also looking into the trees. "Nothing." She replied, turning her gaze back to him and pulling him to face her again. "Nothing at all."