Black Starlight
"Bella, darling!"
A mane of thick black hair whipped around, and she faced him with a sneer.
"Sirius," she spat, blood red lips curled with disgust.
His skin was tanned, and he noticed the contrast as he reached for her shockingly pale, slender hand. Stiffening, she allowed him to intertwine their fingers.
Her thin white hands were cold, his were bigger and warm. Something flickered behind her dark eyes, and Sirius was momentarily thrown.
"Can I help you?"
Her tone was icy, but she didn't bother removing her hand.
"No, I don't think you can, actually. You yourself have told me many times I'm beyond help now."
Something like a smile flitted across her face.
"Actually, Bella, I just wanted to be with you."
"Oh?" She resumed walking at a brisk pace, painfully aware of her hand in his.
"Is that so surprising?" he asked, observing the delicately disbelieving look on her face.
"Well, of course I'm wrong, but I seem to have thought that disowning me would be tantamount to a written statement saying 'No, Bella, I never want to see your ugly face again'"
"Your face isn't ugly," he replied quietly. And he was right, of course. Sirius was always right. Or so he would tell you.
Bellatrix was gorgeous, though. Her lips were bloodred without the help of any cosmetic charms, and her skin was stark white, untouched by sun. Her features, sharp-cut and elegant, bespoke of the nobility of her family, which she so dearly treasured. And her hair. Her long, thick, beautiful black hair. Reaching the very end of her back, it shone in any light… But it was her eyes that entranced anyone who met her - Her eyes were completely black, dark as the thoughts they sheltered, orbs of perspective as large and stunning as her sister, Andromeda's. Though he had said it to Andromeda, Sirius couldn't remember ever telling Bellatrix how beautiful their identical eyes were.
"Thank you," she answered almost shyly.
Her eyes twinkled, and he had to speak.
"Like black starlight…" he whispered.
"What?"
"I always told Andy… but I never told you."
"What?" She asked, more impatiently.
"Oh, nothing important. I just know that you two aren't mad like the rest of them. I know," he said, and his other hand caught the side of her face as she stopped abruptly, "because when you smile, when you cry, when anything means something to you – your eyes sparkle. And it's completely different to anything else I've ever seen. They sparkle like black starlight."
x
The pair continued in silence for almost ten minutes before Sirius said bluntly, "Passion."
"You think that's it?" She knew exactly what he was thinking.
"It sets us apart."
"They can be passionate. About… certain things. Bloodlines, Muggles, the Dark Lord."
"That's not passion, Bella – that's a feeble attempt to keep their pride – a despicable reach for honor.
And you know, I think the Blacks may have had honor at some point. I really do. But I'm sure it had nothing to do with pure blood and a hatred for Muggles."
"You're wrong."
"Sorry?"
"You're wrong, Sirius."
"What about?" He gazed at her, trying to figure out where this notion had come from.
"Everything. You were wrong to leave the family. You were wrong to befriend an idiot like Potter. He's going to meet a sticky end, and if you keep this up, you'll be going down with him. You were wrong to renounce the Black name. Blood means a lot, and honor is unattainable without noble blood."
He ripped his hand from hers and looked her dead in the eye.
"That's a lie."
"Is it?"
"All of that is a lie. You know you don't believe it Bella. I know you don't believe that rubbish. They've stuffed it down our throats for seventeen bloody years, and I know you aren't going to start believing their shit now."
"I've always believed." Her eyes were completely black, devoid of any warmth, any of that familial comfort Sirius had come for.
"NO."
"Yes. It's simple, really. Understand that you're wrong Sirius. There's a chance for forgiveness yet."
He studied her profile as she half turned.
"This isn't about blood anymore, is it?"
He was beginning to understand.
"Never was."
"Oh Bella, you don't mean that."
"I do. With all my heart."
"People who believe that nonsense don't have hearts, Bella!"
"Nonsense?" Her laugh was humorless. Almost cruel.
"Sirius, you are a blind fool. You are turning away from the greatest sorcerer of all time. The most magnificent darkness to sweep the earth. This is not nonsense, as you so eloquently put it, and I am not a simple girl to be won over by your pitiful attempts at charm."
The look on his face was a storm of emotion. But sorrow won out over all the others.
"You think this is love, Bella? This master-servant relationship? Perhaps because your loveless marriage does nothing but satisfy physical needs, and you crave something more. This is not loyalty, not trust. Your Lord has no sense of the meaning of these words. Honesty and care are foreign to him. You are foreign to him, in your innocent belief, drinking in his power and treasuring his empty words." His words were low and angry, and yet etched into his face was a pity of sorts – he was mourning her lost soul.
"Already he calls for me. I am his closest follower. His most faithful, he says. I believe in him endlessly, trust him unconditionally!"
"And therein lies your mistake, darling. Lord Voldemort knows no emotion." He was confident, his voice quiet and smooth.
"Shut up," she hissed. "You know nothing of this. You know nothing of such power, such devotion, such inexplicable all being."
"But I know love. I know passion. I was mistaken, perhaps, when I thought you knew it too. I mistook, maybe, when I saw you to be as intriguing, as worthwhile as Andromeda."
Bellatrix's voice was barely a whisper, "I am worth ten of her. And you, my dear, are worth nothing at all."
With those words, she turned to leave, but Sirius caught her arm, "You are stronger than this, Bella. I know you. I know a willful, hot-blooded girl. I know a girl who trusts and can be trusted. She feels, she sees. A girl who understands completely. Be her. Be the girl I know. Be the girl I love."
The last word wasn't even audible, "Please."
Her eyes shone brightly, and he knew it was to be the last time.
A single tear slipped down her perfect white cheek, and he knew it was the last one she would ever shed.
She stepped toward him, and a butterfly kiss landed right below his left ear. He knew it was the last real kiss she would ever give.
He was watching her transform, and he kept a steady hold on her right arm as she fell into his open embrace for the last time.
x
She drew back, and pulled the left sleeve of her robes up her arm.
She rotated her forearm, and Sirius saw.
As if engraved into her flawless complexion, a black sign that told him everything.
"Bella is dead." She whispered.
x
He stared at the spot where a moment ago, he had watched a woman die.
x
But maybe she hadn't died.
"Maybe," he said, "I never knew her at all."
xxx
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