Apolline.
Apolline.
Apolline.
Lily whispered the name as quietly as she could. Still, a couple of girls at a nearby table glanced up at her. She bit her lip.
Apolline, she thought. Apolline.
The pleasure of thinking, Lily decided, was that one was allowed to think as loudly as one wanted, even in the library. Even if one was thinking about things that shouldn't be thought about anywhere, even the library. Almost funny, that there were things one ought not think about in a library, which was, after all, a room designed for thinking.
Not that funny, she decided half a second later. But thinking about Apolline made her giggle whether something was funny or not.
Apolline.
She must've been giggling aloud, as the two girls at the next table were now staring at her quite pointedly. She shoved her half-completed Potions essay into the dusty book she'd been pretending to study and tripped a little as she tried to leave. Blushing, she glanced around. Nobody had seen, not that it mattered, since the only opinion she wanted was at that moment most likely tucked securely in an enormous gilded carriage.
Apolline.
Lily was so wrapped up in her thoughts that it took her several seconds to realize she was still standing at the library door, tugging at the potions book that stubbornly refused to follow her out.
"Forgetting something, Evans?" someone snickered. She blushed more deeply and walked meekly to the checkout desk.
"Sorry," she mumbled. Madame Pince stared down her thin, beaky nose, her eyes made even sharper by the pince-nez perched on it.
"I should think so," Pince snapped as she marked the book. "Two weeks."
Lily nodded and backed hastily out of the library. More snickering followed her, but the only voice Lily cared about was hers.
Apolline.
Lily walked down the corridor, her mind filled with thoughts of Apolline, her long, slender fingers, her long, shimmering hair, her long, delicate neck. She could almost see her, could almost touch her, could almost—
"Watch where you're bloody going!"
"Oh!" Lily collided with something—someone, by the sound of it, and dropped her book, the parchment rolling down an adjoining corridor. "Bloody hell," she grumbled, chasing after it. She unrolled it and studied the text, trying to see if any of the ink had smeared. Slughorn wouldn't have minded if the paper had been missing three whole inches, but Lily was determined to prove she could do more than coast on her talents.
"May I recommend not walking with your eyes closed?" A hand held the potions book out to her.
"Sorry," she mumbled again.
"And Madame Pince wouldn't be at all happy to see how little care you take with school property, especially after you tried to steal it."
"I didn't try to steal it!" Lily cried, before realizing it was the same person who had laughed at her earlier. She looked up from her parchment.
Bellatrix Black was holding the book out impatiently. "Do you not want it? I'll just run it back to the library, then."
"No, I do—want it," Lily said, snatching the book away. "I just had to make sure there was nothing wrong with my--"
"Fascinating," Bellatrix said dryly. "If you don't mind." She turned to go.
"Thank you," Lily called awkwardly after her. Bellatrix made her nervous. Not because she was an older girl, after all, she wasn't much older, and not because she was a Slytherin or a Pureblood or any of that class nonsense, certainly not because they had once—
"Eyes open, Evans," Bellatrix said over her shoulder. "Don't want people thinking you're clumsy."
"Right," she said as brightly as she could. Right? That's the best you could come up with? Lily shook her head and made her way carefully to the common room.
Bellatrix stared after her, her dark eyes clouded. She shook her head and strode quickly off down the corridor.
Lily ducked through the doorway clutching her book. The common room was nearly deserted, it was late and most of the students were in their dormitories, preparing for bed. She sat in a large plush armchair and unrolled her parchment. Six more inches on the preparation and use of antidotes for Grindylow venom. She hadn't even known Grindylows were venomous, but she supposed it was good to know that mallow root and flavia blossoms would work in a pinch. Not that she planned on getting bitten. She sighed and cracked the book.
The bite of the Grindylow produces lethargy, paleness, paralysis and eventual death. Should the antidote not be administered promptly the victim will exhibit these symptoms along with delirium, shallow breathing, and heightened sensation in the hands and feet.
Doesn't sound so terrible, Lily thought. Except for the paralysis and death bit.
Apolline stretched out on the grassy bank of the Black Lake, her long slim body pale and cool, her lips parted, air whispering gently into her lungs as she cried out faintly for Lily, Lily who knew the cure. Lily frantically grinding the roots and flowers into a fine poultice, spreading the mixture so carefully, so tenderly across the scarlet wound, Apolline moaning faintly, her eyes sliding open, a smile breaking across her beautiful face as she blinked and saw Lily leaning over her, Lily who had saved her—
"Don't let Peeves catch you in here," a male voice said from across the room. Lily started and the parchment and book fell to the floor with a loud thud.
"James! You startled me," she muttered, collecting her things. She wondered briefly how long she'd been lost in her thoughts. Couldn't have been too long, the fire was still crackling merrily in the grate.
"Just one of my many and varied talents," James said, a smirk in his voice. "Still working on Slughorn's essay, eh? I gave up on it ages ago. Good thing I stand next to you in Potions, or else he'd be on to me in a second."
"What do you mean?"
"Just that being associated with the professor's favorite student gives one a little more freedom than one might otherwise have."
"You're not cheating off me again, James," she said, a flush spreading across her cheeks. "I've worked really hard on this essay. I don't mean to have you take the credit for it."
"Slughorn knows I'd never have figured out it was—what was it?" He snatched Lily's parchment. "Flavia blossoms? Sounds like a load of rubbish to me, but what do I know?"
"Not much, that's clear," she huffed, snatching the parchment back. James didn't let go of his end and with a loud rip the paper tore in half. "Potter, you bloody bastard! I've been working on this for ages!" Anger flared up in her. "Give it back!"
"Hey now, no need for name-calling," James said, sounding slightly wounded. "I'll have it fixed in a tick, keep your knickers on."
"You're getting nowhere near my knickers," Lily growled as James pulled out his wand.
"Here, give me your half." He grabbed it out of her hand and tapped his wand on both sides. The parchment mended itself easily.
"Thank you," Lily said stiffly, holding out her hand for the scroll. James examined it closely, waving her hand away.
"I figure I ought to at least pretend I know what you're on about," he said as he stared at the writing. "Flavia blossoms and mallow root? Sounds like a bloody love potion."
"Yes, well, that's why you'll end up cold and stiff when the Grindylow gets a bit of your arm," she said feebly. I must be slipping. I'm usually so good at the clever retort.
"Better cold and stiff than—what's this?" he said, peering more closely at the paper. "Who's Apolline?"
Lily felt a cold rush of fear in her limbs. Her throat constricted, and she struggled to breathe normally. So this is what a Grindylow bite is like, she thought. "Nobody," she choked.
"But you've got it underlined. And circled. It's not—hey, are you trying to make friends with those bloody French wankers?"
"Yes," she said, relief crashing over her. "I've got a—study appointment."
"Everyone knows Beauxbatons girls are only good at one thing," he said knowingly.
"Oh yes? And what's that?"
"I shouldn't say," James grinned. "Ladies present."
"Why don't you go back up to your room, then? That would take care of that problem."
He gaped at her for a moment, then handed the parchment back without a word. "Goodnight, James," she called sweetly. He didn't make any indication he'd heard her as he stomped up the staircase to the boys' dormitory.
Lily took a deep breath and clutched the parchment to her chest. How had Apolline's name gotten there? She must have written it while she was daydreaming. She unrolled it quickly, though taking care not to tear it again, and scanned the writing. She didn't see the name anywhere.
She took the parchment nearer the fire and knelt down on the carpet, carefully reading every word. Aside from a few missed punctuation marks she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nowhere did she see that lovely name, certainly not underlined and circled.
The coldness seeped back into her limbs. If it hadn't been written there, James had—but how—he couldn't—there was no—bollocks.
Lily resisted the momentary urge to throw her essay into the fire. She flopped back down in the armchair and rubbed her eyes. He's just playing a trick. It's James, after all, that's what he does. But how would he have known to—perhaps he heard me whispering. Have to be more careful.
She closed her eyes firmly and took a deep breath. The vision of Apolline flitted across her mind and she smiled. She could certainly think it as loudly as she wanted.
Bellatrix stole across the grounds silently as a ghost, her long black cloak slipping easily though the trees. She stepped quickly over the gnarled roots, dodging low-hanging branches and swotting leaves away from her face. Ahead of her a twig snapped and she stopped, her breath catching in her throat.
"Bella?" a high, soft whisper. "Ees zat you?"
"Apolline?" she murmured back.
"Oui, yes, ees me." A tall, slender figure emerged from the brush, pulling back a deep blue hood to reveal a shining fall of gleaming blonde hair. Bellatrix gasped automatically at the sight. Apolline's face was as pale as the moonlight, her fine profile standing in sharp relief against the deep night. Her eyes glittered in the faint silver glow filtering into the atmosphere around her.
"I'm glad you came," Bellatrix said, feeling slightly awkward. Apolline was the only creature she had ever encountered who could make her feel inelegant, could make her feel ungainly and ill-at-ease.
"But of course I would come, Bella," Apolline whispered. "You ask me, and I am not rude."
"No, of course not," Bellatrix mumbled. "Not rude at all."
"Anyway," Apolline said, stealing closer. Bellatrix felt slightly faint as the girl approached, the glow of her skin and hair seeming to reflect onto her. "Ees as much for me as for you I come."
"Oh?" Her breath refused to obey her, coming in short, shallow bursts. She felt drunk around the girl. She felt very nearly powerless. It was part of the attraction, Bellatrix thought. Nobody else can do this to me.
"Oui," Apolline murmured, reaching out to stroke Bellatrix's cheek with her slim fingers. Bellatrix could trace where they had been long after Apolline broke contact, it was like her fingers had left warm, glittering trails across her skin. "Not every day does a beautiful girl ask to be meeting me in zee woods after dark."
Bellatrix tried but couldn't make words come. The nearness of Apolline had wrapped her in a fine, shimmering mist. The air itself seemed to sparkle, every breath tasted like honey and flowers. Bellatrix knew in the back of her mind that the girl was veela, at least partially, but she didn't care. It didn't matter, she had thought earlier, why the girl possessed her so, it was only that she did. She mumbled wordlessly, leaning in close to Apolline, basking in the girl's fine silver glow.
"Ah yes, Bella," Apolline murmured, brushing Bellatrix's cheek with her lips. Bellatrix half-whimpered and parted her lips. "Ees not so every day zat I am finding such a belle fille who . . . what is zee word? Who responds to me."
"Yes," Bellatrix whispered, reaching out to stroke Apolline's long silvery hair.
"Tell me," she breathed, her mouth close to Bellatrix's ear. "Why ees it taking so long for you to ask me?"
"What—do you mean?" Apolline's lips grazed her jaw. She clutched a little at the girl's cloak, drawing her even closer.
"I am looking at you ever since we arrive at 'ogwarts, and you act like you do not see me."
"Ever since you arrived?"
"Oui. Yes. Since almost zee moment zee carriage land on your field."
"Love at first sight, then?" Bellatrix nearly laughed. She'd noticed Apolline immediately as well, but she supposed everyone had. She doubted if all the Beauxbatons girls were veelas, beautiful as they were, but only Apolline had drawn every set of eyes in the Great Hall. And it wasn't as though it would've been so simple, just to walk up to the lovely French girl and ask her if she'd fancy a shag. Bellatrix had a reputation to protect. She had her pride to consider, since it had seemed inevitable that the girl would've laughed, would've flipped her silken hair in Bellatrix's face as she turned to go.
"Oh no," Apolline breathed. "We do not fall in love at Beauxbatons. We are of course trained in the arts of . . . hospitality? Ees the right word? Hospitality. Something you British are not, I am thinking."
"So you're just being polite?" Bellatrix kissed the tips of Apolline's proffered fingers.
"Non, non, absolutement non. What I am feeling about you, ees not polite." She giggled, and it sounded to Bellatrix like chimes. "And besides, as I already say, ees very difficult for a girl such as me to find another who is . . . sympathetic?"
"I didn't think your charms were supposed to work on women," Bellatrix breathed. "Isn't the idea for a veela to lure a mate?"
Apolline's face twisted prettily. "Of course zat may be," she said. "But not all veela are wanting some thickheaded oaf panting on top of zem."
Bellatrix guessed she had learned the phrase from one of the Hogwarts students. She smiled.
"And so," Apolline said, drawing very close to Bellatrix's mouth, "it ees taking a special girl to understand me. And I, I am very lucky zat it ees one who ees so . . . charmant."
She leaned near and ran the tip of her tongue across Bellatrix's lower lip. Bellatrix moaned softly and pressed Apolline's body against hers, capturing the girl's mouth in her own. The glow around Apolline expanded, intensified, until it enveloped both of them and flooded their little hollow with fine silver light.
Bellatrix was spinning inside the warmth of Apolline's kiss. She didn't feel the panic of not being in control of the situation, she didn't feel the strong urge to dominate, to command her. She allowed Apolline to dictate the terms of the kiss, allowed Apolline to take over and guide her. The relinquishing of her power excited Bellatrix, made her kiss deeper, hungrier.
"Oh Bella," Apolline whispered against Bellatrix's lips.
Bellatrix didn't make a sound except the soft whimpers that seemed to come from a place she didn't know existed. Always so controlling. Always so dominant and perfect. But not now. Not with you. Apolline, Apolline, use me. Make me yours.
"Bella?" A voice from farther off. Bellatrix managed to break away from Apolline's embrace and had her wand out in an instant. "What are you doing here?"
"Lucius." It was Malfoy, slinking through the undergrowth like a rat. Bellatrix trained her wand on him, her face frozen in a mask of loathing and dangerous focus. "I might ask you the same question."
"Who is—who was that?" he asked, pointing after Apolline's rapidly-vanishing form.
"Nobody you need to concern yourself with, Lucius," she said coldly, not dropping her wand. "Now if you'd be so good as to tell me how you just happened to stumble upon me . . ."
He stared after the figure and answered without looking at Bellatrix. "Your sister noticed you'd gone. She was worried about you. I went to where she told me you might be."
"Oh Cissy," Bellatrix sighed. "How she manages to draw breath without permission is a mystery to me." Lucius said nothing, but was now looking at Bellatrix with a strange gleam in his eye. "Well?" she said, flicking her wand at him. A few sparks landed on his robes and he scrambled to brush them out. "You've found me. Unhurt. I suggest you return to the castle and inform my dear sister that she may go to sleep at last."
"Was that . . ." Lucius nodded meaningfully in the direction that Apolline had gone. "Was that a Beauxbatons girl?"
"You have completed your duties, Lucius," Bellatrix said, her words sharp and icy. "Feel free to go." A few more sparks shot out of her wand, larger and brighter than before. Lucius swallowed hard and nodded, his watery eyes bright. "And if I hear of you telling anyone what you've seen--"
"Nobody, Bella, I swear to you," he said nervously.
"Not even Narcissa," she warned. "Don't forget, Malfoy, she and I are very close. We tell each other everything." She let her tongue roll over the word to enjoy the effect it had on Lucius. He swallowed again and ran his hand over his hair, slicking it back. Nodding, he took a few halting steps backward. "Don't fall," Bellatrix said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "You can tell Cissy I'll be in to tend to her momentarily."
"To tend . . .?"
"Go, Lucius. Now." She shot a thin jet of red light at his feet. He gasped and ran from the forest as quickly as he could.
Bellatrix smiled. Apolline may have her completely powerless, but it was nice to flex her muscles every now and again. So she could enjoy the sweetness of the distinction.