Hey! I wrote this a while ago. Before the seventh book. And thought I'd post it. Let me know if you want more. There is more.

None of these characters belong to me. Just having fun.

Holding A Candle To The Devil

Prologue: In The Gloom

On the ground again. Belly down, shoulders hunched, he wills his heart to slow in his chest. He does this by concentrating hard on everything that surrounds him, the unique smell of moldy rope and rusting bars, the chill of the stones beneath him, the damp against his skin where the torn robes no longer offer protection.

He doesn't know what forces him into this position time and time again. He only knows that like this, he feels safe, out of sight, a false comfort really, for the dementors cannot see.

They pass without noticing him. He isn't sure if this pleases him, as it seems to imply he is losing himself. There are no more happy thoughts for them to feed on.

This is when he realizes she is there. He becomes aware of her presence slowly, first: the old tingling of nerves that announces her arrival, then the fine hairs on the backs of arms and the nape of his neck stand up, then he feels the desperation bubble up in his stomach. He looks up through the bars, her name almost on his lips he silences himself in the last minute by forcing himself to remember that he no longer feels that way about her.

Clearing his mind as best he can he raises his head slightly and sees her standing there. She seems ridiculously calm and composed, like she is waiting for her date in front of a coffee shop, or standing at a station waiting for the train to pull in.

Her hands are bound; her hair has been caught inexpertly in a loose knot. She turns to face him abruptly, her dark eyes distant as if she cannot see her mean surroundings. It seems to him as if the years are melting away like lemon ice in a paper cup.

1. This Is What He Knows

Only five days till fourth year began. Mrs. Black and her sons donned muggle clothing for the journey to the train station, where they awaited the arrival of Cousin Bellatrix, who was traveling from Dover having just arrived on a boat from France. Just why she was traveling in the muggle fashion instead of apperating Sirius never found out. It was one of the last hot days of the summer and Sirius, uncomfortable in the heat and impatient with the long wait and having to stand still, turned his attention to his younger brother Regulus, who was staring into space, mouth agape, the small wire rimmed glasses sliding down the bridge of his narrow nose. When the train pulled into the station he clapped Regulus hard on the back causing the glasses to fly. Mrs. Black made him crawl under a bench to find them again.

And that was how she first saw him, on his hands and knees in the dirt. As he brushed his hands off on his jeans he noticed her standing alone on the platform looking in his direction. She wore muggle clothing, a long dark red coat with a fox fur collar, despite the heat. She looked immaculate, stylish and arrogant. He saw at once that her eyes were black and somewhat heavy lidded. This gave her a slightly sullen expression. Her lips were on the thin side, her smile like cruel stab of crimson in her face. She waited for him to look her in the eye before twisting those thin lips into a smile, slowly, as if they had just discovered they could do so.

Next she walked towards Mrs. Black and embraced her. Sirius found himself gaping in shock the way Peter did while watching James play quidditch. You look like a bleeding guppy. He had never seen his mother embrace anyone. Not even his father. He supposed, in an off hand way, that there might be plenty of things he didn't know about his mother and had never bothered to find out. But this was the last thing he expected. That look of pride and, what was the word? Tenderness.

This is what he did know about her: Mrs. Black stood tall and straight, her hair had turned gray early in life and she was too proud to enchant it with color. She carried a gleaming walking stick topped with a silver dog's head, which Sirius had become well acquainted with in the past, generally following temperamental outbursts or failing to fit in with the family ideals. She had been exceedingly vain in her youth but now thought it shallow to spend too much time grooming oneself. Nevertheless she sat for her portrait every two years. She was a few years older than her husband Commodus and never let an opportunity to remind him of this fact pass her by.

She never spoke with anyone less than a pure blood but relayed messages through her house elf, an arrogant beast called Kreacher who existed only to fulfill her every wish.

She never touched her children, never called them by their first names, seldom smiled at them. This built character she assured them; they would thank her for it in the end.

This is what else he knew: Mrs. Black loved Cousin Bellatrix. Somewhere in the back of his head was a memory of his mother kissing her on the forehead, gently, the way a mother should. Bellatrix had been a little girl then. He remembered looking up at his mother hopefully but not making a sound. Other than that he had few memories of Cousin Bellatrix. She had been away at Hogwarts and then in France for quite some time. He knew her sister Andromeda well and found her easy to talk to and lively. The youngest, Narcissa, had an arrogant air he found displeasing. He avoided her when he could. His mother had never shown affection to or even interest in the other two. It occurred to him as he watched his rather tall and beautiful cousin, that he was jealous.

Cousin Bellatrix was chattering and laughing. She had a high, pretty voice that seemed to have the power to enchant. She was telling some tale of her recent journey and letting Mrs. Black clasp her hands. Every once in a while her sharp dark eyes would flit away from her aunt's face and settle upon Sirius'. Was she mocking him? Proving she could hold his mother's attention when he could not? Laughing? When Mrs. Black motioned for her sons to draw near and introduced them, Bellatrix gave Regulus another thin-lipped smile and kissed him swiftly on the cheek. Then it was Sirius' turn. He did not fail to notice his brother's smirk when she offered him her hand instead of her cheek.

He took it. It was cold despite the warmth of the weather, nails bitten to the quick. She had a strong grip. When no one was looking Sirius drew his hand to his nose, searching for traces of her scent. It retained the scent of violets, though that might have been his imagination. The whole journey back to Grimmauld Place, they walked because Bellatrix wanted to stretch her legs after the long journey. Sirius pretended not listen to her chattering. He practiced transforming into Animagus form in his head that grew dull quickly; he had reviewed it so many times he felt he could do it in his sleep or standing on his head. He thought of every curse he had ever learned and recited them backwards in his head staring at his brother's back as he did. Bellatrix' was still smiling at him when he flashed her a quick look out of the corner of his eye. His mother never walked, she needed her cane because of some childhood injury, he thought to himself bitterly. She would never go out amongst the muggles. Regulus, who shared his mother's dislike of walking and muggles, was practically floating down the street. No doubt pretending to be entranced in whatever his Cousin was saying. Once upon a time they had been allies. Now all he wanted to do was be the perfect son.

Bellatrix had a way with people, especially men. Once she had unpacked, lunched and viewed the changes in the Black Mansion, she fluttered from wizard to wizard gracing them with her disconcerting grins. Even the dour and bookish Commodus was not immune and looked at his niece with an expression of grave interest. She showered him with praise for the work he had done on the house. The spell and incantations designed to keep muggles off that Sirius found unnecessary and vaguely embarrassing. She spoke of all she had learned in France. She spoke of her sisters' progress and of her parents: currently touring Russia where they hoped to purchase rare artifacts and literature, most importantly a full set of Rasputin's journals. She discussed the fashion in Paris with Mrs. Black, calling her 'Auntie Dear' and all the while she flashed cool, challenging grins at Sirius, the same sort Severus Snape favored him with back at Hogwarts. Why did he never feel this uneasy when it was Snape smiling at him?

He decided he was quite sure he detested her. Alone in his room he tried to explain this to Remus in a letter but the words wouldn't come out of his quill. He had chosen Remus because he knew the werewolf would understand, it was easy to tell him embarrassing or secret things, after all he himself had loads of practice. It wasn't always that easy with James no matter how he loved him, recently James had been very concerned with seeming grown up and aloof. Peter, he decided, wouldn't understand at all. Even worse, he might worry and that wouldn't do at all. The boy would have enough to worry about when school started. At last he resolved to watch his cousin closely and tell Remus about it when he saw him again. And so for the next few days he remained silent always in her shadow, determined to discover some fatal secret.

The animals, Sirius noticed at once, did not like Cousin Bellatrix. Sirius himself was quite fond of animals. He was vastly looking forward to the day Peter mastered the trick of transforming into his animal form so they could all go out together. Till now Sirius had managed it quite a few times but had agreed with James to wait till Peter could do it so he didn't feel bad. He was quite willing on occasion, to listen to Hagrid speak of 'interestin' creatures' provided he was safely out of reach of their teeth.

Bellatrix barely looked at animals and when she did it was with barely disguised, contempt. She confessed to accidentally stepping on Narcissa's puffskein, twice and admitted she had been more of a charms girl than a care of magical creatures one, even herbology was more worthwhile to her.

Commodus Black's three hunting hounds: Nero, Europa and Cassiopeia wouldn't even go near her. Their hackles rising and ears falling flat whenever she walked into a room. Europa, who had always been his favorite, had acquired a habit of turning rounds about him when ever Bellatrix was in the room before settling at his ankles with an expression that made it clear she had no intention of budging until his cousin left. It was Europa he found one day, alone in the living room, twitching in pain. When he told his father what he suspected he was severely reprimanded. It was unusual for Commodus to scold his children. Generally he was in the habit of sending for Mrs. Black to do whatever she saw fit. The fact that he bothered to lecture Sirius made him squirm with discomfort. His father looked old he thought randomly as the older wizard droned on. The next day he would journey back to Hogwarts.

That night before dinner he came across Bellatrix on her own. He had never been alone with her before. The idea of speaking to her without the presence of an adult pleased him. He had some half-formed notion of confronting her and opened his mouth to accuse her of harming his dog. He closed it again. Suddenly it seemed more important to just look at her. She wore green. It didn't suit her. Making her skin sallow, eyes too wide, hair too black. But against his will Sirius realized that he had already decided she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Dangerous but beautiful.

"So cousin, all grown up. Older than your years? Or is it just your serious expression and dark brows?" She taunted, holding onto the sleeves of his robe and pulling gently, eyes sparkling with mirth.

Sirius, unsure of what to answer, shrugged. She laughed at this and told him the gesture was juvenile.

"Quite promising I think." She went on. "Another few years and the girls will be scratching their eyes out over you. And clever as well I've heard."

His emotions danced between revulsion and joy. It felt as if his nerves were on fire.

There was a pause as she studied his face. He was holding his breath; it all at once became clear when he felt his lungs protest. Bellatrix let him wait a moment longer and then she continued.

"What a pity you're too young."