Just a short drabble that I decided to put into Diary format. I haven't written any HP lately. Meaning...Bellatrix. Because, that's all I write. Enjoy, loves.

Reviews are sexy.

From the Diary of Bellatrix Black:

8/10/1976

Oh, diary, to explain my feelings would take every word of good in the dictionary…and there are some words that I would have to fabricate! Today…I saw her, It was the first time in ages; in fact it was since that Lucious Malfoy had started courting her. God, he was the scum of the earth. Worse than a mudblood in my eyes. He wasn't good enough for her, only I was. Only me. She came unexpectedly, like a feather fluttering across your vision before softly circling your neck leaving you smiling with the soft brush of heaven. That's what she was to me; heaven.

I felt a catch of breath as her eyes settled on mine, the blue tints flickering green…flickering hazel…flickering, gray. Beauty must have defined itself because of her. Or, at least is must have tried to. Hair falling…in the most majestic of ways, over eyes that were more complex than the harshest of storms. Concealing where her gaze lie, but only enhancing her mystery, her cold beauty. Hair as white as snow…but as yellow as the sun, if two worlds could collide…it would have been in her long tresses…trapped together in a fragrance so sweet it could make the strongest of knees collapse. Could break hearts that before that moment were locked away in a steel cell. Her mouth would open and you would swear on your life that an angel had just spoken to you, that you had been touched by something far greater than your own worthless life…that you had just been told by a Goddess that everything was going to be all right…that everything you had ever done leading to this moment was so that this angel could whisper to you…so that you could hear these sweet words.

When my fingers would brush her skin I could feel my heart melting…it's solid walls bowing under the weight of a thousand uncertainties, it's foundation cracking with the pressure of a beauty so great that it has grown cold and sad in its eternity.

When she walked…I couldn't help but to notice the way that she walked. Like she was walking on a cloud…and the slightest misstep would send her hurtling to the ground below…one wrong move would mean certain destruction. But…she wasn't afraid. To be afraid is the surest sign of weakness, to be weak meant you weren't confident, and if you weren't confident, you have no reason to be alive. You have no right to push your insecurities on others…you have no right to weigh others down with problems that don't belong to them.

Her fingers slid through my chocolate locks that even chaos was ashamed to be seen with. Anyone's hands would have hit a snag…would have tangled in the stormy sea of brown. But, not hers. Her slender ivory digits slid through it like it was water. Clean, pure, and calm.

I was only those things when she was touching me. Pure Bellatrix was the biggest oxymoron that could be contemplated. But alas, there it was. And she made it so. I wouldn't have been able to stand it with anyone other than her. But…I felt safe with her, I felt like it was okay to let down my guard, to let her beautiful light penetrate the darkness that I kept close around me. Like it was okay to cry, to let her crumble the wall I had learned to keep locked tight around my heart…that it was okay to love. That hatred was sometimes all that love needed to thrive.

In my eyes she was all knowing. In other's eyes she was beautiful…she was pure, untainted beauty. But to me, just one part of her beauty was so utterly breathtaking that I had to force my eyes to stay on her, or they would look away in shame at glimpsing something so…so…heartbreakingly innocent and beautiful.

When her hair tickled my face I felt as if the universe had aligned itself for me…for this perfect moment. And no other sequence of time could ever be as perfect. Perfection. That's what life was when I was her. The Dark Lord was the furthest thing from my mind…no, further than the furthest. It was nonexistent.

You're the only one that could know this though…Narcissa; oh god, how I blush even when I write her name! I don't want her to know…but how I long to hold her in my arms and breathe amore into her ear. With the way my breath stops if she so much as brushes my hand…how my knees tremble when she runs her fingers through my hair, how could she not know? But…maybe she doesn't.

She can't know…or all those nights…cradled in her arms, she would have said something…she would have had to!

It doesn't matter…I shall never utter a word. I will take this secret to my grave, and there it will stay.