September 2, 1968
Bellatrix Black arrived ten minutes early to Defence Against the Dark Arts class with her heavy leather book bag slung upon her slender shoulders. She had always been a high-achieving student, but had never before felt compelled to come to class early, just so that she might get a seat close to the front.
She carefully folded her legs and neatened her hair into sleek curls with a non-verbal charm; her cheeks were slightly flushed from the activity of climbing the enchanted staircases to reach the classroom tucked away on the eleventh floor. She pretended to be reading her textbook while glancing out of the corner of her eye up at the wizard whom she had intended to impress with her punctuality and devotion.
As a child, Bellatrix had been told stories by her parents of the brilliant Tom Riddle, who had gone to the Continent to learn secrets of the Dark Arts. He could perform magic the likes of which only a precious few individuals in the entire world possessed the aptitude and Darkness to master. Upon his return to England, several of his old school friends, including her father, had been recruited as part of his nascent movement for the purification of Wizarding Britain. Bellatrix gained a clearer idea about what this entailed as she grew older, and now at nearly seventeen, she could piece together Tom Riddle's plans through the coded way in which her father spoke about purifying the magical community.
While his adopted name Lord Voldemort had begun to be spoken of with reverence in certain circles and fear in others, Professor Riddle taught Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. He had needed a day job with sufficient income to be able to slip by undetected within respectable society, allowing him to fundraise and draw recruits to his cause. He applied for the position in the summer of 1967, thinking it was perhaps a long shot, as his only legitimate job experience at Borgin and Burkes selling dark artifacts was hardly mentionable on a teaching resume. Luckily, Armando Dippet had remembered Tom fondly, and seemed rather impressed by the tale he'd concocted of doing field research on vampires in Eastern Europe. He'd been hired on the spot, given the urgency of replacing his predecessor who had passed away from a sudden-onset case of dragon pox.
The first year of his employment sailed by fairly smoothly. While Dippet could easily look past Tom's slip-ups after being gifted bottles of firewhiskey, or boxes of champagne truffles, he was getting advanced in age and ready to retire as Headmaster. The newly-appointed Albus Dumbledore had never fully trusted him since the events surrounding the opening of the Chamber of Secrets all those years ago. Dumbledore also served as a special advisor to the Wizengamot, and was a vocal supporter of muggle-borns and half-breeds, something he could hardly stomach.
Professor Riddle had not yet looked up from the desk where he was buried in administrative paperwork, unimpressed that he would soon be required to instruct a group of teenagers in protecting themselves from his own particular branch of magic. This was his smallest class, because only a select number of students had attained the requisite OWL grade of 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher required for NEWT level. As he heard the click-clack of female footwear, he absentmindedly reflected that there were likely to be some not-unpleasing nearly-adult witches in this class.
One name on the class list, Miss Bellatrix Black, had of course been familiar to him through his acquaintance with the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, one of the nation's eminent pure-blooded families. To appease his curiosity, he looked up and saw the dark curls which he immediately recognized as belonging to Cygnus Black's eldest daughter. She had an ivory complexion that was lit with a natural blush the colour of peonies, bold red-painted lips, and matching red nails. Her pleated skirt was hiked up high upon her waist, so that the tops of her silk stockings were plainly visible.
At the end of the previous school year, some of the female students had taken to pushing the boundaries of Hogwarts' relatively lax dress code, as he had been informed at a beginning-of-term staff meeting called by Dumbledore. The new Headmaster was adamant that any changes to the dress code should not be unfairly punitive toward young witches who were coming of age in a confusing time, when societal norms appeared to be shifting. A compromise was finally reached in the meeting: a member of staff could present the inappropriately-attired pupil with the option of transfiguring her skirt longer. What an extraordinary waste of time, Tom thought.
"Miss Black, it seems you are rather eager to get a start on learning this year."
Bellatrix sat up in her seat, and giggled. "Oh yes, Professor Riddle. I finished the entire summer reading list you sent out. I especially enjoyed learning about cursed objects. I practiced placing a curse upon my sister Andromeda's hairbrush to make her hair fall out in clumps. My parents thought she must have a rare disease and were going to take her to St. Mungo's, so I had to perform the counter-curse."
Mr. Riddle chuckled. "It sounds like quite the busy summer. I've been preoccupied myself with somewhat duller matters, like attending staff meetings. Dumbledore has finally been forced to say something about the dress code."
"I…um… don't mind transfiguring the hem longer, sir." Students had been informed of the new rules that had come into effect this year by posters put up around the various Common Rooms. He could tell from the look on her face that Bellatrix was only slightly embarrassed, the little minx that she was.
"No, Miss Black, you will do no such thing."
"Sir?"
"Miss Black, I am not concerned in this classroom with blasted skirt lengths. I leave the policing of these matters to Professor McGonagall." The Transfiguration professor had rather old-fashioned principles when it came to propriety.
Bellatrix wrinkled her nose as if smelling something rotten. "She's frightful. I have never seen her in anything other than that ugly tartan smock dress. It astounds me that even with her supposed intelligence, she can't transfigure something better for herself. But then I've never seen evidence of this intelligence in her lessons. Only mundane applications of theoretical principles. She knows nothing of the creativity that is required for performing Dark magic."
"Surely you mean casting defensive spells, Miss Black?" His expression was alarmed.
"You don't have to put up the act in front of me, sir. I know why you're here. You're recruiting from within the ranks of your supporters' families. Training the next generation."
"How many other students are aware of this?" he snapped.
"Only myself and I think two of the boys, Avery and Nott, sir."
Tom nodded, relieved. These were sons of two of his trusted acolytes, and they were not stupid enough to go blabbing about what they knew of their professor's extra-curricular activities in the Great Hall or even the Slytherin Common Room. Plus, he had carefully ensured that there was no way that his activities carried out under the other name could be linked back to his role as Professor Riddle, using a complicated Taboo on the alias to track what others were saying about him.
"Don't worry. I'd die before I'd reveal your secret to anyone. I only want you to know that I hope to be of service to you in any form that you may require…when I come of age." She added the last part of the sentence with a coy smile.
He suddenly realized that Miss Black possessed something of the rare combination of intensity, beauty, and intellect that he had found intoxicating as a younger man. Or even as a man of his current age. He had a sudden, crazy thought of walking up to Bellatrix's desk and seizing a fistful of her curls, and inhaling deeply her jasmine and vanilla-scented perfume. Suddenly, he felt self-conscious that he was staring at her for far too long, and immediately composed himself into a stony expression. He could detect the mental buzzing of thoughts outside the classroom door.
"Well, it seems your classmates are arriving. Act accordingly, Bellatrix."