Wonder If It Shows

If he told anyone, they'd think him crazy. They'd all have him thrown into Azkaban for ever thinking something like this, and no one would ever talk to him ever again. For Merlin's sake, Sirius had spent the last half of his life trying to escape her and his family; he didn't need to be reminded of the one woman he hated more than his mother. He didn't need the reminder of what he had left behind.

But try as he might, he couldn't forget that fleeting thought so hauntingly captured as he watched her walk down the stairs.

He could think of a plausible reason to why he felt this way. It wasn't natural, to say the least. They were of opposing houses, divided by a war, divided by opposing sides. There wasn't any reason to why he felt this way, and he knew it, through and through. He'd always been the sane one, the last one to join in on a plan because he needed to think it through properly. He'd always been regarded as the sanest one.

So, why on earth did he feel this way?

She hadn't done anything for him to commend her on. She had killed many, yes, but plenty of them had been friends that he had loved and cherished dearly, more than life itself. He supposed that she was pretty, in the classical way that all the Blacks seemed to possess; dark hair and dark eyes, framed with long eyelashes. She had nice smile, when she chose to show it.

But she was Bellatrix Black,

Lestrange, Lestrange, Lestrange

And there was no sane reason to why he admired her so.

So he pushed it to the back of his mind and forgot about it until he last looked into her black eyes. And he saw his own reflection, reflected back to him in the black orbs, before the green light hit his body and she clapped Dolohov on the back with pride, cackling softly.

No, there was no sane reason why he admired her so.

Written for the 1 2 3 challenge on HPFFC. Please enjoy, and remember, reviews are love?