He had always found her interesting.

The way she carried herself. Her tall, proud posture. Nothing like her sisters. She was elegant, in a modern sort of way. She was proud, very proud, of her pure-blood heritage. He liked that, as he too was proud. Pride can be a very dangerous and attractive thing, especially in the right person.

Bellatrix Black was the right person.

She was the only sister who was fitted for the name Black. One, fair and shy. The other, colourful and outgoing. No, neither Narcissa nor Andromeda were fit to bear the name Black. But Bellatrix, oh, she was made for that name.

Her long, wavy raven hair, her high cheekbones, strong jaw and big, dark brown eyes were made as if someone had painted them. But what drove Lucius Malfoy mad more than anything were her full, coloured lips, and the way she toyed with him using them. Even the slightest sneer, smirk or twitch could send him pulsing with thoughts too various to mention.

But that night, at the annual Malfoy ball; his graduate year, she was even more stunning than usual.

Her parents entered first, followed closely by young Narcissa, Andromeda following closely behind her. Bellatrix made an entrance, she lived for them. She waited until the doorway was clear until crossing the threshold.

She was a sight, alright. Her long, wavy hair was pinned back into a loose hold to her head. Her porcelain back exposed fully by her ebony dress that left little to the imagination. The silken material draping around her delicate frame and falling just an inch from the floor. Her treasured bird skull pendant hung from her neck by a black ribbon, falling just before her breasts. Every man, woman and child held their breath as she looked about the room with an air of indifference, like she had better things to do with her time.

He watched her every movement that night. Watched her dance with numerous men, rolling her eyes at their comments and compliments. He couldn't help but be amused. She was so delightfully pompous. She had every right to be, though, as did he. He too danced with various ladies, including both her sisters, but still, he couldn't find it in him to ask Bellatrix to dance. He never could bring himself to ask an older woman to dance, even if only by a few years. He felt it demeaned him. Something about being around women elder than him made him feel uncomfortable. Like they knew you because they had met others like you before. No, he was determined to admire her from afar, as had always had.

During his dance with Narcissa, however, he lost sight of her. Narcissa was shy, it seemed, toward everyone but him. She wouldn't stop talking, and he found himself growing increasingly impatient. After the dance was done, he managed to sneak away out into the front garden. He stopped at the fountain in the centre of the garden and rested his head against it, sighing in relief.

"So," he heard a voice say. Startled, he quickly turned around to face the source. On the other side of the fountain, was Bellatrix, her back to him, holding a glass of port in her long hand. Her bare back glistened in the light of the full moon. She looked almost like a ghost. "Had enough already, Malfoy?" she teased.

"Your little sister can be quite bothersome sometimes, Miss Black." he replied smoothly, strolling around the fountain to mimic her position at the other side of the fountain, hands behind his back, leaning slightly against it.

"You don't have to tell me." she glanced at him through the corner of her eye, sipping her glass. "But she likes you, Malfoy."

"Hm."

"Lord only knows why. You're so incredibly dull." she mocked.

"Each to their own." he retorted smoothly. This was all their conversations ever were. Full of contempt and teasing, seeing who will get the last word before their parents beckoned for them to come along.

"Ha!" she replied sarcastically. "Prove me wrong then, Malfoy."

"And what would you have me do, Miss Black?" he asked silkily.

She sipped her glass, feigning deep thought. "Hmm, lets see... Ah, I know!" she exclaimed. "Go in there and hex Andy."

"Don't be daft." he replied indignantly.

"Hmph," she huffed in disappointment. "Fine, kill joy, what would you do then? Hm?" she prodded, rounding on him. Her face was only a few inches from his. He could smell the alcohol on her breath. He was momentarily distracted and he let his guard down for the briefest of moments. He groaned. "I hate it when you do that."

That's all it took.

She pulled back and cocked her eyebrow, a look of confusion crossing her features. "Do what?"

"Change."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy? I don't change."

"Yes, you do." he said, pushing himself off the fountain and advancing towards her a step. "Whenever you're around others, you're always so stoic, never impressed by anything or anyone, so snobby and pretentious. You, you glide about, tempting men with your evil smiles and that, seductive smirk of yours." He paused to catch himself, straightening up. She still had a look of surprise and confusion on her face, her head slightly cocked to her right. "And, and then," he continued, "when I get you alone, or I see you with your sisters or your cousin, Sirius, you're so... naughty, almost playful." He sighed, exasperated. "It's maddening."

She cackled once he had finished, almost throwing her head back in utter hysterics. He felt blood rush to his cheeks. "Oh, God, Lucius," his heart fluttered when she said his name. "you really are such an interesting child."

He balled his fists up and advanced on her, his nose almost touching hers. "Child?" he sneered. She looked him up and down before returning his glare. "I'm no child, Bellatrix, and you know it."

She smirked at him, her wickedness almost hypnotic in the moonlight. She moved her face even closer to his and whispered, "I know nothing."

He became even more angry. but this time it showed on his face. She smiled evilly, knowing she was getting to him. "Boys like you," she began, "are always attracted to women like me. Women that aren't easily pleased or impressed, and above all, carry themselves well." She looked down at herself then back up to meet his intense gaze. "Who carry themselves excellently." she corrected. "Who are you, to call yourself a man, Lucius, when you couldn't even summon up the courage to ask me to dance?"

He continued to sneer at her, hatred boiling up inside of him. How dare she mock him, at his own house! The sheer nerve! He would jinx her right now if he wasn't so paralysed with anger. Anger and her beauty. She was so much more beautiful when she was insulting someone. She enjoyed it, and she made no attempt to hide it. Ever. She smirked at his lack of a response, took a step back and said, "That's what I thought." before turning her back to him and walking back toward the manor.

He caught her by the wrist and knocked the glass from her hand, and before she could say anything in protest, he slammed her against the garden wall. "How dare you insult me. Me! In my own house, no less!" he hissed at her, and a small smirk played upon her lips. He contorted his face in anger and slammed his open palms on the wall on either side of her head. "Try it again, Bellatrix, and see what happens." He breathed deeply, regaining his breath.

Her smirk spread across the right side of her face. "Temper, Lucius, temper." she tutted. His lips contorted into a thin line, and he took her by the waist and slammed her into him, kissing her with a fiery, angry passion he had been holding back since the day he first met her. She didn't resist, and soon she returned his kiss with equal passion, digging her fingernails into the back of his neck. He hissed from the pain, then pulled her head back, a few curls coming loose. She smirked up at him, and he drove her back into the wall. A small cry of pain escaped her lips, but she simply smirked with delight as Lucius drew himself into her, taking her by the waist and pulling her closer, tracing her soft, slender back with his hands as he kissed her full, luscious lips with fervour. She gripped the back of his hair in her hand, making a ball of blonde hair in her fist. His right hand found the small of her back, and he realised she wasn't wearing underwear. As if reading his mind, she pulled away from him, breaking the kiss and breathing, "None for you tonight, little one."

His face contorted in anger once more at her name calling, and, taking her hard by the waist, hauled her up off the ground and slammed her against the wall, pinning her there with his body. She giggled and smirked down at him as he quickly glanced up at her before pulling her dress back and snaking his hand underneath it. She gripped onto his shoulders as he lightly brushes over her with his fingertips. A light moan escaped her lips as he did so, his fingers tracing her opening. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he rubbed his thumb against her nub. She moaned and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. He smirked to himself as he slid his index and middle fingers into her, a gasp escaping her as he did so. She squirmed a little before rolling her hips in time with his ministrations. She closed her eyes and titled her head back against the wall before crying out in pleasure. Her grip on his shoulders slackened, as did her legs on his hips. Once she regained enough breath, he took her by the waist and helped her down.

He smirked at her, as did she. He was about to open his mouth to say something derogatory, but before he could, her hand struck his face with such force that he staggered slightly and his eyes began to water. She took him by his shirtfront and sneered threateningly. "If you ever do that to me again, I'll kill you." She kissed him hard one last time before pushing him away and turning her bare back to him. He watched her walk back towards the manor, pulling out her wand and waving it over her head so her loose curls snaked their way back in place.

He smirked to himself as he slunk down against the wall, wondering what his night would have been like had Narcissa kept him dancing all night long.