When she sees Sirius roar out a "Protego", Bellatrix fells a bubble of excitement well up, and screams back a curse. As expected, the spell ricochets and she sees a jet of red heading towards her.
It has been too long since her last proper duel. Sirius, as much as she hates to admit it, is a good dueler. He is fast and accurate, and the flurry of spells exchanged between them barely hit their respective opponents. Bellatrix throws back her head and bares her teeth in a grin. She sees Sirius just barely managing to hold back the fierce laugh that threatens to escape.
It has been too long since they last felt alive. They are in a deadly dance of spells, the jets of light bursting out from the points of their wand, each spell threatening death.
Bellatrix sees Sirius lean back, and instinctively leaps back to dodge the barely legal curse that he spits out. It had always been a habit of his, an idiosyncrasy that he has had since seven years old.
She had taught him that spell, and he had proclaimed her a genius with shining gray eyes.
Bellatrix tries to pretend that rage is the only thing she feels at him turning a spell against its creator.
No, never pride, never, because that spell was difficult, and even Cissy couldn't perform that curse to its full extent, no, never.
"Engorgia!" Bellatrix faintly recalls a thirteen year old her flicking her wand while an awed Sirius watches on.
"Bella! Teach me, please, please, please! Mother will never find out!" Sirius had pleaded, and Bella had surrendered.
"Only if you give me your Ptolemy card." She had demanded it, knowing that it was his prize possession, just to see how much he wanted to learn. Sirius had hunted for that stupid card for almost a year, and spent more than a hundred galleons on Chocolate Frogs. When he finally got the card, he didn't stop grinning like an idiot for a few days.
Sirius had pouted, bargained and sulked, but eventually gave in.
They had practiced it in secret, using the wands of long dead ancestors, and when Sirius finally mastered it, Bellatrix had felt a surge of pride.
And now, it is this faintly bittersweet spell that somehow hits her, despite her trying to dodge it.
She yells a curse on reflex, a particularly nasty one that swerved in from an angle.
It hits him, and Bellatrix watches the elation in his eyes slowly fade.
She sets down her wand, and her grip loosens on the worn wood as she watches Sirius fall into the Veil, and she knows that she has won this duel.
Bellatrix turns around, and surveys the ongoing battle, knowing what is expected of her. She cackles, and mocks the Boy Who Lived, and she can't quite understand why she chokes on her words.
A few days later, when she is home alone, Bella unearths the Ptolemy card that had stayed buried underneath a layer of dust and grime. She had ripped it to pieces in a fit of anger, when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. It had taken repeated Reparos before the card finally turned whole, she remembered. 15 year old Bellatrix had no patience with what she deemed 'household tricks'.
When her eyes itch, she tells herself that it is merely due to the dust.
