The Sweetest Word

by Charis M

Whatever they may have become in this modern age, they were once children – or as much children as two such people could be. A first meeting at the Slytherin table.

The Sweetest Word
by Charis

Disclaimer: Nothing here belongs to me, except the story itself. Characters are property of J. K. Rowling.

Author's Note: Hogwarts, 1971. Bellatrix Black and Severus Snape meet for the first time at the Slytherin tables. Not really a 'ship story, despite the title. One of these days, there may be a sequel, but this was really just pointless drabble.

"You hate him, don't you?"

Eleven years old, and he had already learned what it was to loathe someone with every fibre of his being. He looked over at the girl next to him, the one who had asked the question.

"Yes." There was no uncertainty in the answer.

"Good," she said. "Then we can be friends." And without another word, she turned back to her dinner. He stared at her, unsure what to make of that pronouncement -- unsure, now that he stopped to think about it, who she was. He'd seen her in the queue of first-years, but been too busy glaring daggers at Black to catch her name.

She slanted another glance over at him, eyes dark beneath slightly drooping lids. They gave her an almost bored look, as though she was weary already of the wonders of the Great Hall. "What?"

"It's hard to be friends if you don't know who I am. Or," he added, as though it were an afterthought, "I don't know you."

"Oh." A sudden, sly smile. "I'm Bellatrix Black -- but everyone calls me Bella."

He heard only one word of that, and it made him scowl. "Black?" he echoed, as though it were a foul thing. She glared right back.

"Most noble and ancient house of, thank you. He," she jabbed her fork at the Gryffindor table, "is a disgrace to the name of Black. Unfortunately, he's also my cousin. I wish he wasn't." It was a perfect display of pureblood arrogance.

At a loss for words, he just gaped at her. She went on, blithely unconcerned, "Besides, everyone knows who you are -- at least, here in Slytherin. You're Severus Snape. They say you know more about the Dark Arts than most of the teachers." Bellatrix tilted her head, scrutinising him. "Did you really hex the Potter boy on the train?"

He couldn't but feel a swell of pride, for the first time in his life. "He was being a prat."

"Well ... Gryffindors are." A little smirk as she extended one hand. "So we're friends."

Friends. He had rather hoped, if only in vague wistful dreams, to find some here. He smiled back, feeling unfamiliar muscles stretch and pull, and grasped her outstretched hand with his. "Friends."

It was the sweetest word he'd ever heard.