A/N: And so we begin little Bella's first year at Hogwarts…
1 September, 1962
A small girl, eleven years old, with dark, knotted, and curly hair was fidgeting almost wildly as she stood in line in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was fidgeting wildly, her eyes occasionally darting to the bewitched ceiling that mirrored the shining stars in the sky beyond the castle. She waited with the other first year students as each of them waited for their name to called in order to be sorted into one of the four Houses of the ancient school. Of course, she was going to be in Slytherin House, right? The rest of her family was in Slytherin and they were all expecting her to be in the same House as her ancestors. Oh, her parents would kill her if she dishonored the family by being sorted into any other House at Hogwarts.
"Black, Bellatrix," the voice of a tall thin witch with a pointed nose that stuck up slightly as if there was an unpleasant odor nearby, Minerva McGonagall, rang throughout the near silent hall. McGonagall peered over her parchment full of first year names, her glasses settled on the near tip of her nose, waiting for the young witch she had just called forward. Bellatrix's breath hitched in her throat as she walked slowly up to the stool where the ugly patchwork sorting hat sat waiting for her, a seemingly sinister smile across its broad rip that was supposed to resemble a mouth. She waited for Professor McGonagall to lift the hat from the stool and, when she did, the first year sat down on the stool. The hat was dropped onto her curly head and she jumped slightly at the sudden voice in her ear. Listening intently as she bit her lip, she clutched the stool beneath her so hard her knuckles were white.
"Another Black, I see," said a low hiss that seemed to ring throughout her head. She was the daughter of Cygnus Black and Druella Black, the pure-blood family of the Ancient and Noble House of Black—one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families that were still pure, rich, respected, and powerful. "Ah yes, I see so much potential in your brilliant head. Yet, also, so much fear. Hmm . . ." Bella whimpered slightly and whispered breathily back to the voice in her head, "I need to be in Slytherin." Realizing she might come off as rude, she added a quick "please."
The voice inside her head merely chuckled. How can this bloody hat find this situation funny? She thought. "You have the inquiring, creative mind of a Ravenclaw, my dear," spoke the voice, "And oh the loyalty and bravery that lie within! Maybe even Gryffindor." He sniggered with the last sentence. She knew the hat was baiting her. He—or rather it—had to be. "I see deeper into your mind than you can imagine, dear girl. However, I do see the traits of Salazar Slytherin radiating deep within your mind." The young witch had her eyes closed tightly and had begun whispering "Slytherin" over and over again in the following silence of the hat. A distant, low chuckle came from the hat once more.
"I think . . ." the hat said, now, she could tell, loudly enough for anyone near to hear. How long had she been sitting there listening to the hat provoke her as it tried to figure out where she belonged? The silence that followed was deafening. A ringing in her ears had started and she felt as if she was going to be sick. The things her family would say. . . The things her father might do to her if she-"SLYTHERIN!" The hat finally shouted for the whole hall to hear. With the shouts from the silver and green table, Bellatrix released a deep breath, unaware that she had been holding it in the silence of the hat's decision. As soon as the hat was taken off of her curly head, Bellatrix jumped off the stool and pranced toward the Slytherin table, a relieved grin plastered on her face.
The rest of the sorting ceremony went on, with the shouts of "Gryffindor," "Ravenclaw," "Hufflepuff," and "Slytherin!" The latter of which Bellatrix absentmindedly joined in on the clapping that followed through her table, though her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking of her sisters, Andromeda and Narcissa. They were still at home, biding their time with their mother and father until their protector of a big sister got home for the holidays. The girls were stuck in that Gods awful house while Bella was at this phenomenally magical castle. She missed them dearly, and worried about them tremendously.
The Ancient and Noble House of Black was not quite as noble as some liked to think. Cygnus was a horribly abusive father and husband. He was a drunk that was bitter that he had no sons to continue on with the family name, no proper heirs to continue his family line. He loathed the woman he was forced to marry, Druella. He loathed the disappointing children that plagued his existence with a lack of masculine influence. He loathed nearly everything about his life. Druella was kind and loving when Cygnus was not around, but was often too terrified of him to do much when he went on a drunken stupor that terrorized his family.
They will be just fine, a voice in her head continued to tell the first year. I will write to Cissy and Dromeda as soon as I can. At least now I'm in Slytherin. That will be one less disappointment for father to drink to. . . The young witch knew, however, that this one small accomplishment wouldn't do much to keep their father happy. The fact that all three of his children were born with a uterus would overpower everything else. He wanted an heir; that was all that mattered. Cygnus's sister-in-law, Walburga, had a small boy. Bellatrix had often heard her mother mumbling about how an heir would calm Cygnus down. It did little to placate his behavior, though he did make a point to brag about the toddler whenever he got a chance, to anyone who would listen.
Another wave of applause had erupted from the Slytherin table again as a dark haired boy with piercing blue eyes joined Bellatrix at the table. She recognized him as being the oldest of the Lestrange boys: Rodolphus. The Lestrange and Black families were close friends and Bellatrix had spent some time with the strange, quiet boy and his younger brother. Like many of the pure blood families, they were obnoxiously proud to have their blood be as pure as the gold littering their filthy rich Gringotts vaults.
"Hello, Rodolphus. I'm glad to see a familiar face in my House," Bellatrix said with a smile on her face.
Rodolphus turned toward Bella as if he had just noticed she was sitting there. "Hello, Bella. Yes . . . Good to see you again. . ." His was soft and airy, as if he was distracted by something far off that only he could see or hear. Either that, or he just had no desire to speak to the girl he was forced to be friends with as a child...
Bellatrix didn't bother trying to continue conversation with the boy. With a sigh and a frown on her face, she turned her head back to the sorting ceremony and watched it continue on through a hand full of names, shouts of Houses and cheers until, at last, the noise died down and all eyes moved to the headmaster, Professor Armando Dippet. He was a bit of a portly man: a little short with a long beard that settled on his protruding belly.
"Welcome to all of our newest students joining us this year!" The booming voice of Professor Dippet echoed across the Great Hall with the great fervor of a proud and powerful wizard and Headmaster. "And welcome back to all of our returning students. As usual, the Forbidden Forest is-well-forbidden to students without a professor or other authority at your side. Classes will start on Monday so eat up, get a good night's rest, and prepare for the new year!"
After the small speech of welcome, Professor Dippet clapped his hands together and in seconds the great hall was filled with food of all sorts that looked absolutely delicious. Immediately, everyone dug in and chatter filled the vast room along with the sounds of cutlery, dishes, and someone chewing their food and talking with their mouth full extraordinarily loudly, which Bellatrix found very obnoxious. She turned her face to find the source of the noise. It was another first year boy—she recognized him from the gather of students waiting outside the great hall for the sorting to begin—sitting a couple seats down and across from her. He had a head of the messiest dark blonde hair she had ever seen and was chewing loudly and speaking with his mouth full, talking to everyone that would listen about just about anything he could think of. What an obnoxious little twat, Bellatrix thought. Looking up and meeting her eye, something that looked like it ought to have been a grin spread across his face and made his full chipmunk-like cheeks even fuller.
"'Ou 'nuthr 'irs yer," he said with his mouth full.
"I'm sorry?" Bellatrix asked, looking taken aback and staring, repulsed, at the bad manners he portrayed. It was obvious that he wasn't a pureblood. No honorable pureblood family would allow their child to grow up with such abysmal manners.
With a tastelessly loud swallowing sound, the messy haired boy spoke again. "You're another first year. I recognize you. Bell-something-or-other Black, right?"
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Bellatrix Black, yes. And you are?"
"I'm Cian Reid. You can call me Cian. Or Reid. Whatever you prefer. Bellatrix is an interesting name, isn't it? I'm going to call you Bella." He gave a sort of goofy grin before digging back into his food.
"Pleasure to meet you," Bella replied with a half-grin of her own. He seemed to be a nice enough boy, though he clearly lacked any manners or sense of the pureblood etiquette she and many of the other Slytherins at the table were brought up with. However, he was most definitely interesting...
2 September, 1962
On the Sunday before classes started, the morning was spent making introductions to the witches Bellatrix would be sharing a dorm with for the next seven years. There was Lauren Parkinson-twin sister of Jacob Parkinson-Victoria Rowle, Calliope Nott, and Freya Karamakov. Bella excused herself soon after, choosing to spend some time alone. She just wanted to read and prepare for her first classes. Of course, growing up in the wizarding world, she knew all about magic, but she had never been able to practice it until now. She was determined to learn everything she could, and be the best in her year.
The dark haired witch woke up early Monday morning and rushed to shower, not bothering to tame her unruly hair, and dress herself in the dorm before heading out of the dimly lit Slytherin common room. She quickly headed toward the Great Hall for breakfast, remembering the route from following prefects and older students back to the common room after meals.
"Hey, wait up," a voice called to her as she was exiting the common room. Bellatrix turned around to see her dormmate, Freya. She had short, curly, platinum blonde hair, a slightly round face with dimples in either cheek, and wide hazel eyes. "You're Bellatrix, right? Mind if I walk with you?"
Bellatrix smiled and nodded her head. "Of course. You can call me Bella. Refresh my memory, what did you say your name was?"
"Freya Karamakov," the short haired girl sang joyfully. The two had a feeling they were going to be great friends.
It wasn't long before the witches were joined on the way to breakfast by the boy Bellatrix had met two nights before: Cian. He wriggled himself right between the girls and wrapped his arms around each of them. "Hey, Bella. Who's your friend?"
Bellatrix rolled her eyes but before she could answer, Freya answered for her as she slyly stepped out of his grip.
"Karamakov comma Freya," said the witch, a dramatic hand extending as if to show off how important of a witch she was. "And who are you?"
"I'm Cian, of course! Cian Reid." His grin was so bright it seemed to brighten the faint hall of the dungeons. "This is fantastic!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together, "We're all going to be the best of friends." His enthusiasm was met with a dramatic eye roll and chuckle from Freya while Bellatrix smirked.
The three of them made their way into the Great Hall where Professor Slughorn, the Slytherin Head of House, was already passing out schedules. Slughorn stopped to peer at the curly haired witch as she took her class schedule with great enthusiasm.
"Well, well, is this a new Black we have here? I will be delighted to be teaching you this year, young lady." The professor gave her a wink and then passed another schedule along to another first year, during which Bellatrix heard him exclaim, "Ah, and Mr. Lestrange! Your father was quite a fantastic student. I daresay you will take after his brilliance, won't you?"
Not looking over at Rodolphus and Professor Slughorn's encounter, Bellatrix turned to her two new friends. "We have double Defense Against the Dark Arts first . . . And it starts in thirty minutes," she said, looking from her parchment with her schedule on it to the watch on her wrist.
The first years spent the remainder of their breakfast chatting excitedly about what their first day of class was going to be like. Cian and Freya did most of the talking while Bella watched and listened shyly, a little nervous to have friends. With her food finally finished, Bellatrix stood up, grabbed her bag, and waited just long enough for Cian and Freya to join her on the journey to their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
The classroom was dimly lit and a tall woman with hair as wildly curly as Bellatrix's and beautiful almost-perfectly smooth brown skin that was slightly sprinkled with scars-probably from being an auror before settling for a teaching position at the ancient school-sat at the desk, watching with small brown eyes as her class wandered in and took their seats. The room fell quiet once the seats were filled and every pupil was staring at the professor in front of the room, waiting for her to speak. Without getting up from her desk, she did just that.
"Good morning, class," the witch said in a low voice, "I am Professor Webb and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Today we are going to be talking about hexes, jinxes, and curses and how to identify each. First off—" her eyes scanned the room full of nervous first years "—who can tell me a bit about hexes, jinxes, or curses?" A few hands shot into the air and Professor Webb pointed at a Slytherin student in the front, silently.
"A jinx, being one of the seven known types of spells, is distinguished by its negative effects and used mostly for the amusement of observers and the minor discomfort of the victim. A hex is of darker magic than a jinx but not as dark as a curse. It generally causes moderate suffering to the victim. A curse is the worst form of dark magic and generally causes severe suffering of the victim."
Professor Webb smiled for the first time since the start of class. "Very good, dear. Twenty points to Slytherin. And your name . . .?"
"Jacob Parkinson, Professor," said the boy that had answered the question.
The rest of the class went on with Webb's explanation of jinxes, curses, and hexes and into more detail of how to differentiate the three of them. It seemed to be the longest, most boring thing Bella had ever sat through when the bell finally rang to dismiss the students. Were all first year classes going to be so bland? "Very well, class. Next week we will learn some very basic jinxes and begin practicing conjuring them and resisting them. Have a good day," Professor Webb said as the students packed up their books and belongings and headed toward the door.
The rest of the classes of the day seemed to be just as uneventful as the first. Cian actually fell asleep almost immediately in History of Magic when the old ghost, Professor Binns, started droning on in the most monotone voice he could possibly muster. At the end of their Charms class and after doing nothing but moving their wands about without actually doing any spells, Bellatrix, Cian, and Freya set off to the Great Hall for dinner. The wizard in the group was mumbling in a disgruntled tone about the day until Freya finally snapped at him.
"Would you shut up?" Bellatrix couldn't help but giggle at the way Cian stared incredulously at their mutual friend. "If you really thought we were going to be running about doing magic when we haven't got the faintest bleeding idea of what we're doing, you're about as daft as they come."
"I just thought we would do more than listen to lectures and things," Cian said with his arms crossed over his chest. "I want to do magic, for Merlin's sake. . ."
Freya scoffed. "We're barely first years, Cian. There's not a whole lot of magic we could do without blowing our heads off. Be a little more patient before I start to lose my patience with your never ending whinging." Bellatrix reminded herself to never get on the other witch's bad side. She certainly was a feisty one.
"That is you with patience?" Cian's eyes widened and Freya laughed before shooting him an evil grin.
"Boys . . ." Bellatrix said, rolling her eyes and stifling a giggle. Cian stuck his tongue out at the two of them like a five-year-old and smirked as they entered the great hall.
"You guys go ahead," said Bellatrix to Cian and Freya after dinner, "I'm going up to the owlery to send a letter to my mum. She will want to know how my first day went." The other two nodded and said their goodbyes before walking the opposite direction toward the Slytherin common room.
Surprisingly, Bellatrix had little trouble finding the owlery. Her mother had made sure to give her exact directions on how to find it, insisting that her eldest daughter write home as much as possible. As soon as she walked into the room, her eyes widened. There had to be at least two hundred owls sitting on perches, sleeping, leaving the large windows to go stretch their wings or hunt, and flying back in to join the others on the perches. It was a magnificent sight. Bellatrix searched the dropping-sprung floor for a clean spot to sit and pulled out a piece of parchment, quill, and ink bottle. She dipped the quill into the ink and stuck her tongue out slightly in concentration as she wrote.
Dear Mother,
I have had the loveliest first day at school. Of course it has been a little boring as we haven't learned much magic yet. It was mostly theory. But it was great nonetheless. I've already made two friends. I saw Rodolphus Lestrange a few times but he didn't seem too interested in talking to me. I suppose I can try again. I know you and Father want me to make some friends with the children of your friends…
Anyway, I was sorted into Slytherin, of course. You knew I would be.
There's not much else to say so I will leave it here. I miss you. I miss Dromeda and Cissy. I love you all. I will write to you again soon.
Love, Bella
Bellatrix stared at her letter and, deciding it was good enough, folded the parchment and wrote her mother's name and address on the outside. She walked over to where a few owls stood on one of the lower perches. Many of them seemed to be sleeping. "Erm . . . May I use one of you to send this letter to my mum?" She felt incredibly silly speaking out loud to the birds like this. However, two of the birds lifted out their leg lazily to her. With a smile, she chose one and tied the parchment to its leg, watching it fly off soon after.
A/N: For those that may not be familiar with Irish names, the "C" in Cian is a hard "C." So, it's pronounced more like "Key-an." The more you know!
