I know this chapter is spectacularly late, but what can I say? It had a mind of its own.
I originally wrote over twenty drafts of the fifth chapter before I started this one last week. It was meant to go in a completely different direction, but the characters had another intention. It swerved down a little used alleyway. All I can hope for now is that it won't crash and burn.
Standard disclaimer applies.
Reviews, as always, are very much appreciated.
Chapter 5
Confrontation
The sound of the door slamming echoed throughout the room, sinisterly leaving traces on the walls. Loud footsteps soon followed the noise, a low voice cursing fiercely, while its receptor stood calmly by a degraded and defiled mahogany desk.
"You fool! You fool!" The rage in Sirius' voice was palpable even from a distance. He was truly furious now, angrier than she had ever seen him. She felt a small amount of unease building up in her chest, but quashed it with the memory of love and faith. Sirius, of all people, would never hurt her.
Nevertheless, she kept her wand at the ready. She had seen calm and gentle wizards use the most terrible of curses when not in their right minds, and the expression on her lover's face was guaranteed a painful and prolonged death to whomever she would choose to unload himself upon. She could only hope and pray that he would have the good sense to not make her his punching bag.
But Bella was right on one account. Sirius cared for her far too much to hurt her. It was this very love that now twisted his face in rage and betrayal. "You fool, Bella! How could you?"
Bella attempted to keep calm despite the small, terrified voice that warned her to run. "You know I had no choice, Sirius. He made me – Father made me do it, you know he did."
"Then why didn't you come to me?" Sirius' voice was almost inhuman in its agony. His eyes burned with a fire that threatened to envelop the world in flames. "Why didn't you come to me, Bella? Why didn't you ask for my help? We could have solved this together, we could have found a way out. Why did you let him do this to you?"
She flinched from his voice, a small part of her that was fueled by instinct rather than blind devotion forcing her to move back and away from this dangerous animal that threatened to smother her. "Sirius I – I didn't know it was going to happen, I swear on –"
"You LIAR!" The sound no longer resembled his voice – it had been turned into an inhuman, animalistic shriek by the force of pain and heartbreak. "You knew about this from the very start, you knew that this was going to happen, and yet you did nothing! You just stood there and let them play with your goddamn life, Bellatrix, just let them decide your future. And even now – even when practically everything's gone to ashes anyway, you didn't tell me! I had to find out from goddamn Pertha Parkinson, Bella! I had to find out from her that the girl I love is going to be married off to Thomas Nott!"
She flinched back from his harsh words, his rebuttal hitting her like a slap in the face, and for the first time, the entire extent of the folly of her actions was evident to her. She gasped as tears began to cascade down her face, realization slamming into her with the force of a Bludger during a game of Quidditch. She had been wrong – so wrong, and now that could cost her so much. "Sirius –Sirius, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - ," her voice had retreated into itself, overcome by thick sobs that threatened to engulf her, breaking out of her and revealing themselves to the almost empty classroom in which they were present.
She took a step back in fear, the true enormity of what was about to happen to her rendering her practically senseless, the emotion heightened by the confines of the tight corset that Lara insisted she wear in order to fully highlight her attractive figure. She encountered a step, and tripped and fell, her bottom making a resounding 'thwack!' as it came into contact with the hard stone floor, cold from imbibing the chilly November air. She was so startled that she forgot even to place a hand over her mouth, as she sobbed senselessly, feeling nausea and breathlessness overcome her.
Breathlessness. She couldn't breathe, she realised. Whether it was the enormity of her actions, or some more material catalyst, she did not know. Her lungs were not able to fully imbibe air, and were protesting, her brain shutting down. Some materialistic, ashamed part of her observed that she probably looked very silly, what with tears running down her face, sitting on a chilly floor with legs wide open, and gasping as it tomorrow wouldn't come, but the strength of the lack of oxygen that her blood was screaming for overcame any and all other thoughts and sensations.
Dimly, the coherent part of her registered the sound of footsteps across the cold stone floor, and then a pair of hands, warm from rage and the fire which they had rested by until recently, were tearing into her clothes, slipping below her outer robes, finding the corset below and ripping it open, the lace and satin flying everywhere as he sought to release her from the bond which threatened to suffocate her. She could feel the destruction of her clothing, and the sound of her ears popping and her throat gulping as her body eagerly forced oxygen back into itself.
When she was somewhat more conscious, she looked up to find herself resting awkwardly against Sirius, the front of her robes torn, pieces of torn white lace tumbling out from between the rents in the expensive material of her school robes. Her face was matted with tears, and bits of her silky hair stuck to the wetness on her cheeks. Sirius was holding her up, propping her against his own body, as he calmly stroked her hair and wiped the tears from her face. She looked up at his worried face – what a change from the previous rage! – with teary eyes underneath long, wet eyelashes.
He pressed his lips to her hair, keeping the pressure there for a few moments before turning to face her. "Whose idea was it for the corset?"
Her voice came out cracked and broken, exhausted from the emotional upheaval and physical ordeal it had been forced through in the last half-hour. "Mother's."
He snorted. "Figures that Aunt Lara would think of something like that."
"She said it would highlight my figure," a vague and misplaced sense of familial loyalty obliged her to retort, although the attempt was half-hearted. It was Sirius to whom she owed her true loyalty, Sirius above anyone else.
He pressed his lips to her temple, thrilling her with the intimacy and affection of the gesture. "You don't need material constrictions to highlight your figure," he murmured in her ear. "You're already the most beautiful witch in Britain."
She felt her heart swell up at his words, especially precious because Sirius didn't dole out compliments easily. Each one was hard earned and especially lovely – usually he preferred to criticise or insult her. Though Bella's devotion to him was so great that even his jabs were like music to her ears, his whispered words, full of love, brought her into the throes of quiet ecstasy.
Her jubilation was silenced when she remembered the events that had brought them into this predicament. "Sirius, about the engagement – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"
"I know," he whispered, cutting her off. And he probably did – because he understood her better than herself – but she still felt guilty and obliged to explain.
"I was jealous – I was jealous. I saw how much time you spent with that Ravenclaw, and I thought you had forgotten about me, and all I wanted to do –"
"Was make me notice you again," he finished for her. She lowered her eyes, ashamed. "Silly Bella," he laughed. "Silly, jealous, envious little goose Bella. All your poorly conceived plans seem to backfire, don't they?"
She bit her lip, looking almost adorable as she asked him "Is it too late, Sirius? Do you think they can't stop it now?"
Her companion tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "When do you have to sign the contract?"
"This Christmas, when I go home for the holidays."
They both knew that once the contract was signed, it could not be broken. She would be forced to remain with her chosen 'husband' forever, or stay an old maid. With the amount of money invested in her, Cygnus would surely ensure that it was the former.
And then they would not be able to be together.
His hand idly rubbed circles around her nape as he answered "I'll do something before then. Maybe it'll just delay Uncle, but that'll be good enough. I think Malfoy…" His voice trailed off, his eyes brightening as his clever mind began to work out a way to free her from her Father's clutches.
Bella's eyes snapped up to look at those of her lover, inquiringly searching within those grey depths the answer for that strange exclamation. Sirius rarely uttered Lucius' name unless it was for an insult of some sort. It was common knowledge that the two scions hated each other, and although it was much lamented in the upper circles of pureblood society, it also gave the high-class witches comfort to see some semblance of normalcy in the increasingly changing times that they inhabited. After all, it was only to be expected that the Prince of Slytherin, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, the epitome of a good pureblood wizard, should despise the blood-traitor Black.
"Someone else would do just as well," Sirius said decisively, his elegant, well-formed nose wrinkling slightly at the idea of having to use Malfoy, however unknowingly, in any one of his plans. The hatred between the two ran deep, extending from a deep-rooted rivalry in childhood to the battle for affections of a certain dark-haired witch in Slytherin. "Wilkes might fit the plan."
Bella twirled a strand of her dark hair, appearing for a moment almost like an innocent child, although she was anything but. "What about Wilkes?" Her voice, for once, contained genuine confusion and naiveness.
Sirius turned to her, his grey eyes glittering with ideas for one of his infamous mischievous plans. She felt the first stirring of unease within herself, even as excitement grew within her to hear her beloved Sirius' plans. To say that she worshipped him would not be an overstatement. "What do you think Uncle would say if I proposed that he deferred the engagement to Nott because Randall Wilkes at school has shown quite a bit of affection and attraction towards his eldest daughter?"
The shift in the air was almost palpable. Bella drew away from Sirius, hurt coursing through her veins at her beloved's casual dismissal of her, as Sirius, oblivious and uncaring of her feelings, continued. "Surely he would consent – after all, even he, with all his pureblood bigotry, is nothing more than a hard-headed businessman; if I gave him an opportunity to further his financial prospects, he would not wait for a second before grabbing at it like a dying man clutching at straws. And it is common knowledge that the Wilkes' have better connections than the Notts."
"Is that all I am to you?" Bella's voice contained true rage for the first time that day, and a novelty indeed, when she was with Sirius. "A toy to be passed around like pass the parcel? From Nott to Wilkes, and so on and so forth? To be given to whomever suits your fancy?"
Sirius, to his credit, looked bewildered – an expression not often found on the Marauder's face. He had, with pure, if somewhat possessive intentions, been thinking of how to extradite Bellatrix from her father's claws, and in doing so had inadvertently incurred the rage of his devotee. "What on earth are you talking about, Bellatrix?" his tone was impatient, and a slight crease had formed between his elegant eyebrows. He was a mischief-maker of the highest order, and forming plans was one of his chief pleasures in life. To find the delicate balances of his thinking interrupted by the apparently sudden burst of wrath from Bella, caused his rather sensitive temper to inflame, and thus, he called her by her full name, a connotation that Bella despised.
Bella, for one, was enraged at hearing Sirius addressing her by her full name. While rather proud of its uniqueness, she was, nevertheless, used to being called his 'Bella' – a nickname that belonged to him and him alone, although others had attempted to take that liberty with her. Her already delicate frame of mind promptly disintegrated at this, and, in a rage, she pushed Sirius away from her harshly, shoving him into the nearest pile of desks. It was not that she meant to hurt him seriously – she never would – but she was raised in a manner that suggested that she was better than anyone and everyone else, and to find someone, a person whom she valued especially, rather, to be playing around with her life so carelessly, enraged her to the point of physical violence.
Sirius, on the other hand, had imbibed some values from the House of Black, if only the ones that pertained to male dominance. Startled and shocked at this aggressive behavior from Bella – the submissive and passive partner in their odd relationship – did nothing but fuel the flames of the fire that had been ignited in him when a smirking Pertha Parkinson had informed him that the blood of the House of Black was going to be mixed with those of the inferior one of Nott. Surely, she had meant it as a barb – to instigate him into violence at the idea of his pure cousin being thrown away on such filth – but the rage caused in Sirius was of quite another variety. His passions were inflamed at the thought of another man apart from himself even daring to dream about obtaining Bellatrix.
It was in this fragile state of mind that he had made his way to her, pure luck somehow managing to prevent him long enough to catch her when she was alone and not surrounded by her pureblood delegation. He had seized her in a frenzy, his consternation causing his grip to be unusually harsh – Bella would find finger-shaped bruises on her upper arms that night – and thrown her into the nearest classroom, intent on demanding some answers.
And now, when all mysteries were cleared, and he was in the process of extracting her from the mess that she had involved herself in somehow, she had the audacity to insult his intentions and use physical violence against him!
Sirius was not normally a violent person, but his rage overcame him at this gross misdemeanor, and he pushed Bella back, hard. She tumbled against the desks that were stacked behind her, falling backwards with a sharp cry. Long years of being waited upon at the Manor had not served to accustom Bella to be very hardy, and that was evident at this very moment, as she gave a sharp cry while hitting the floor, her shriek overpowering the delicate 'snap' of her wrist as it shattered.
If someone had been witnessing this scene, they would undoubtedly have been horrified, and yet simultaneously shocked and intrigued by this unusual display of behavior between cousins. While cradling like lovers bare moments ago – Bella's torn robes further insinuated this incestuous fact – they were now fighting like bitter lion cubs. Savage, animalistic expressions donned both their faces, a sense of hurt and betrayal hovering around their profiles, for both of them believed themselves to have been wronged. Bella was distraught over Sirius' apparent disregard for her and her future (for she believed that he was intent upon her marrying Wilkes), and Sirius was furious over her silly mood swings.
The sound of Bella's shattered wrists echoed around the whole room for what seemed like eons, although in reality it was but a few moments. Like all terrible deeds, this one seemed particularly heinous to the delicately-raised Bella, who had never known anything but affection, and, like the small spoilt child she was, she began to cry, tears spilling out of her eyes yet again.
Yet the change in demeanor in Sirius was palpable, for as to when he had comforted her only a few minutes before, now her surveyed her sobbing form with disgust and distaste. "You are a fool," his clear voice rang around the stone classroom. "A blubbering, idiotic fool; and I hope that you do end up marrying Nott – you two would make a fine pair for each other."
And saying so, the uncaring boy promptly left the room, his instinctive concern for his cousin evaporating in the flames of his wrath. Sirius' temper was perhaps his worst attribute, next only to his impatience, and this very fault had caused the otherwise sensitive young man to turn an uncaring eye to his cousin's evident agony.
After his departure, Bella sat crying for many hours on the cold stone floor, her own absorption with herself and notions of superiority causing her to not even consider the ideas of calling for help. Rather, the idea did not enter her mind. She was so entirely accustomed to be served to on every bend that she was quite like a helpless infant at this moment.
Bella was the brightest witch in her class, and certainly the most ruthless. An outspoken advocate of the ideals of blood-purity, she was envied by the whole school as possessing the best of everything. However, at this moment, this very privilege turned against Bella. Used to having everything delivered on a silver platter, she was shocked by the brutal display of violence which had taken place against her. Although her father often terrorized her with threats of caning, Cygnus rarely took the initiative. He was well aware that a scarred daughter would not fetch nearly as much money as one without any blemishes whatsoever, and was careful to avoid any unsightly marks, such as those that a cane or whip would leave.
Bella had always been catered to by house-elves or governesses, and had never in her life not found assistance at her right hand when she needed it most. Her fifteen years had been filled with utmost luxury, and now, finding herself in a position where she found herself fairly helpless, she was unable to do anything but cry like a spoilt child.
For how many hours she sat on that stone floor with tears rolling down her cheeks, she did not know. All she was aware of was that by the time she had finally deduced that nobody was going to come and help her, the sky was dark, and small stars twinkled coldly outside. Bella had never been one for superstition, and yet she could not help but feel that even the stars were mocking her, taking in her small, shuddering, barely clothed form with distaste. That a pureblood, and a Black at that, should appear in society so disgraced…
Fortune must have been on Bella's side, for she made it back to her dormitory without anyone noticing. If someone indeed had noticed the shivering girl who had slipped past like a shadow in the hallways, then they would have certainly be astonished, and under no circumstances would have believed her to be the regal Bellatrix Black. Bellatrix Black possessed a queenly persona, what with her hooded good looks and her haughty manners, and Bellatrix Black certainly did not wander around the corridors with the front of her robes torn, bruises on her arms, and a broken wrist held tenderly. Bellatrix Black didn't have dried tear tracks on her swollen cheeks, and she certainly did not skulk around like a shadow. When Bellatrix entered a room, even sloths sat up and took notice.
Pride prevented Bella from approaching Madam Pomfrey about her broken wrist that night, for the suspicious matron would no doubt ask as to Bella's activities that would lead to her shattered appendage. Bella was in no mood to face the mule-headed matron, and so she spent the night in near agony, gritting her teeth so that her dorm-mates would not hear the sound of her cries above the Silencing charm that she had put on her bed.
The next morning, however, all illusions of her pride were shattered. Her wrist, almost definitely shattered, had swollen to thrice its normal size, and the pain was almost unbearable. Bella, unable to control herself any longer, had practically sprinted to Andromeda's dorm to ask if she had any pain-killing potion. Andromeda, her eyes widening to double their usual size, had promptly seized her (unbroken) wrist and dragged her down to the hospital wing.
And now Bella was suffering under the watchful eye of the matron.
The events of yesterday had only further served to ignite the flames of the queer relationship between Bella and Sirius. While some experts would call it parasitic – with Bella dependent upon Sirius – it was not so. Rather, it was a symbiotic relationship – in which neither of them were under the control of the other, but couldn't survive without each other either. The odd balance of power – Sirius' control over Bella, his seeming independence, and Bella's adoration for him – would later come to dominate the delicate relations between the two of them, and would be ruthlessly exploited by both the sides of Light and Dark.