Authors Note: I would like to point out that the inspiration for this fanfiction came from the Alice Cooper song "Poison". I have chunked the lines into chapters with stories revolving around the words, I hope you do agree that it is the perfect song for Rodolphus and Bellatrix.

Your cruel device
Your blood like ice

One look could kill
My pain, your thrill

First year had been the catastrophe involving the brooms.

In an attempt at impressing the young Slytherin girls that were aligned on the ground, Rodolphus Lestrange had thrust his legs upward, vaguely aware of the black-haired girl doing the same beside him. With a flush of confidence written arrogantly across his face, he had sped forward, dark hair whipping behind his head, pants and shirt billowing in the soft afternoon breeze as he continued towards the setting sun, until he felt the presence of another. Keeping up with his pace, though a look of pure ecstasy written across her face, was the girl he had begun with. "What are you doing?" He hissed, though it was more of a shout against the air that slammed into their bodies. "Beating you." It was meant to provoke his anger, and Bellatrix Black knew that it would be an uncontrollable wrath, she could see it in his eyes, burning like a flame that consumed his heart.

Whipping around the marker that flew in the sky, they had zipped beneath and above each other around it, so that they flew parallel to each other as they headed back towards the group, that appeared like mere ants upon the grass, staring back up at them with awed faces. It was a thoughtless and careless gesture on Rodolphus's part, but the manic laugh that escaped her lips as she sped in front of him was enough to freeze his blood. Reaching a strong hand out, it thudded into her shoulder gently, but enough to send her spinning into the oblivion, her entire broom moving wildly about, as if a rogue. What he hadn't planned on was the reversal of her motion, sending the tiny girl hurdling towards him. It was with a sharp hiss, and a loud crack that they fell from the sky, and he could see in Bellatrix's eye pure terror as she clutched to his arm, the only object within grasp. He himself knew not what they would do, for their wands were suddenly floating in the sky around them, their brooms broken and shattered, and so, curling up beside her, they hit the ground with a deep groan.

Shattering the glass of pain with a piercing cackle, Bellatrix, though broken and bruised, blood streaming out of her nose as she lay upon the cold and wet grass, had laughed. With no conscience and a deep hatred now of Rodolphus, she had glanced over her shoulder, her kneck screaming in pain as she did so, to stare into his brown eyes. The blackness of her's combined with the warmth that his eminated and the colors clung together that afternoon.

It had been the start to their war. Many compared it to the War of the Roses in England a few centuries prior, a Black and Red rose battling for power amongst the heartless Slytherins.