Title: Pity
Characters: Bellatrix Lestrange, Alecto Carrow
Pairings: None
Prompt: Fire.
Word Count: Approx. 753
Rating: T
Summary: Alecto thinks about her relationship with Bellatrix.
Author's Notes: This is a part of my prompt table challenge.
Alecto was not a homely girl. Not by a long run. Yes, she was overly pudgy and she did have a slight pig nose; but Alecto had a …cute face. Her eyebrows curved perfectly and those eyes – a brown hazel – were something that girls could envy. Yet deep within her was an ugly girl. She could drink as much butterbeer as she wished, but in the end it did not make her sweet. The only destination that sugary drink had was to her plump stomach and portly thighs.
Alecto Carrow was a girl full of avarice and envy that everybody around her seemed to suffocate under. Everyone except Bellatrix.
Bellatrix Black was the very opposite of Alecto. Her eyes were the colour of Firewhiskey, dark and amber. Her hair nearly came in shades of black, brown, and dark navy. Her lips were perfectly full and always covered in a deep purple lip colour since the age of fifteen. She came from a wealthy and prominent Pureblood family. All the students in Slytherin seemed to be enthralled with Bellatrix Black. And that irked Alecto.
They were both in the same year and were friends. Or so thought everyone at Hogwarts. Yet Alecto did not think too much about that thought. It was obvious that the young girls were in constant competition. Yet Alecto couldn't hold a flame to Bellatrix.
They were both bullies, but at the same time not quite. Bellatrix had been taught early on in life that people of Pure birth were the supreme beings. Nothing could surpass them. With that fact, she seemed to achieve delight in the torture of fellow students. Her sadistic streak was something that could never be mellowed. It was quite clear to Alecto that she would have to one-up Bellatrix and her amusement with the lower species. She had to be more sadistic than ever before. But this did nothing; Bellatrix was one sadist that could not be out done.
Alecto watched as Bellatrix married Rodolphus Lestrange. A man a year older than them, who was in Alecto's brother's year. But no one asked for Alecto's hand. No one ever looked twice at her. Bellatrix had grown into her hourglass figure – highlighted by the corsets she wore. Yet Alecto was still as lumpy as ever, like a bruised peach that was growing soft as the days went on.
And then the Dark Lord had gained Bellatrix and her husband as followers to the cause. That had been the final straw. It was simply not fair. Bellatrix had everything and now she would become a warrior as well.
Alecto tipped the candle over slowly. She watched as the red wax swam across the rim and then poured itself upon the back of her left hand. A low hiss was emitted from her open mouth. The scalding viscous material spread across her dumpling of a hand. She made another noise this time; a high-pitched whimper.
She could feel her skin soften even more as the liquid wax solidified. It was at that moment that Bellatrix Lestrange walked in – her face scrunched up in distasted.
"I'm imagining you," Alecto stated simply, without even looking up at Bellatrix.
The other woman paused, trying to process what she was witnessing. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Imagining me doing what?"
Alecto was sure that Bellatrix was acting coy. Rolling her eyes, Alecto continued. This time the liquid was poured over her Dark Mark. Her forearm was burning tremendously. "What do you think?" Alecto paused, gauging to get a reaction. "I'm imagining you are the one pouring the wax."
Alecto looked up at Bellatrix. The woman's mouth was parted, nostrils flared, and hair nearly crackling. "I didn't know you liked it that way. I didn't even know that you were interested in women."
"I'm not," Alecto sputtered, quickly. She had jerked herself into reality so hard that the wax had travelled to her inner elbow. It felt like the soft flesh there had ignited.
Bellatrix ambled up closer to Alecto. Bending across the table, so her breasts dusted the table, the dark witch blew cold hair against Alecto's searing flesh. Her lips turned up in a small smirk. "Pity," Bellatrix said darkly.
Bellatrix grinned and turned towards the door. "The Dark Lord requests you in the Drawing Room."
Alecto was quite surprised at Bellatrix's quick exit. She was even more surprised that Bellatrix had actually blown on her arm. Yet she was aware of one thing: Bellatrix had irked her for the last time.