Written for QLFC, Finals
Seeker, Wigtown Wanderers
Prompt: an element from Good Omens by Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman — I used the quote "She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close." for inspiration.
Word Count: 1140
Author's Note: So I don't normally write Death Eaters. In fact, other than Snape and Draco, this is my first foray into DeathEaterdom, so I'm equally nervous and excited about that. From the research I did, I found that Bella likely attended Hogwarts beginning in either 1962 or 1963 (I chose '62), and I made Rodolphus the same age.
Consumed
"She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close." — Good Omens, Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman
September 1, 1964 — Third Year
As they boarded the Hogwarts Express together, a simple, unimportant thought flashed through Rodolphus' mind: he had never considered Bellatrix Black very pretty.
The Blacks were known for their cunning and impeccable bloodlines, not their beauty, but Bella's sisters seemed to do just fine anyway. Andromeda's coloring was less harsh than most Blacks', and something about her face was soft and almost too pleasant. Narcissa, on the other hand, took after her mother, all sharp lines and pale features and shiny blonde hair that turned every head.
Bella was a study in contrast. Her wild, dark hair stood out starkly against her ghostly skin, and even her mother's harshest charms couldn't tame it. Her eyes were large, her nose pointy, her jaw strong, and her brow heavy. All her features seemed to express themselves in the extreme. Combined with her powerful personality and infamous cruel streak, the overall effect was intense.
No, Bella Black wasn't pretty, but that's not to say she was unattractive.
Something about the way Bella held herself, even at thirteen, was compelling. It was as though she had a magic all her own, a charisma that made even adults take notice. But beneath her charm, Rodolphus could always feel a current of tension, like danger and destruction were destined to follow wherever she went. She was electric.
He didn't want to admit it, but just being around Bella was a heady feeling. Thirteen-year-old Rodolphus wasn't sure what that meant in the grand scheme of things, but he knew he wanted to watch and find out. He would do it from afar, though. He could already sense that being too close to Bella Black would get you burned.
November 26, 1966 — Fifth Year
As he wound his way through the warren of corridors in the dungeons, Rodolphus rounded the corner to find Bella Black standing over a trembling figure, a small group of Slytherins circled around her.
He walked up to Evan Rosier and nudged his elbow. "What happened here?"
Rosier snorted. "Mudblood was dumb enough to be wandering around down here and then got the bright idea to say something to Black. She burned him pretty badly, and now she's got him under the Cruciatus."
Rodolphus looked at the person lying on the floor. Even through the tremors of the Cruciatus Curse, he could see the left sleeve of the boy's robe was still smoking, and his forearm had an angry red burn slashed across it. A shudder of pride and lust rippled down Rodolphus' spine as he watched Bella continue to unleash her fiery temper. He loved the way she towered over her prey, powerful and fierce. She was in her element, and she was stunning.
The boy writhed in the dirt for several long moments before Bella lowered her wand. As the shuddering stopped, she raised her wand again, and Rodolphus heard her murmur the incantation for a memory charm. With one last flick of her wrist, Bella Confunded the boy and sent him away. Rodolphus knew he would have no memory of his torture or even the conversation with Bella. His only souvenir would be the burn on his left arm and a few lingering convulsions.
"Perhaps that will teach the filthy creature a thing or two about how to speak to his betters," she said, loud enough for all her housemates to hear.
Bella met his gaze across the ring of people and smirked, her own eyes blazing with a smug self-righteousness. This was a girl—no, a woman—who knew she held power in excess and wasn't afraid to use it for her cause. The rest of the students looked at her with a mixture of awe and fear, but in that moment, Rodolphus felt a burning conviction. He would talk to his father over Christmas about petitioning the Blacks to marry Bella. He had to have her hand. He had to have her.
It was only fair, he rationalized. She had ensnared his soul long ago.
Rodolphus knew his friends would try to warn him away from being with Bella. They'd seen what she could do, what she was capable of. Like broken records, they frequently told him she was headed down a dark road and asked if he was willing to walk it with her. Every time, Rodolphus just scoffed.
He wasn't blind. He could see there was no light on Bella's path because she didn't need one—the fire in her was more than enough. And he would run willingly into the darkness with her as long as he had the flames of her zeal to light the way.
He only hoped he could withstand the heat.
October 31, 1968 — Seventh Year
As he watched, Rodolphus could feel the inferno of passion rolling off Bella Black in waves. That kind of heat should have told him to walk, no, run away. Instead, he edged closer. Always closer.
Merlin, he wanted her. He'd felt his entire life that she was as attractive as she was intense, but it still amazed him how alluring her unbridled spirit was—how intoxicating her mere presence could be.
His betrothed stood in the middle of the Slytherin common room, bemoaning the current state of their world and gesticulating wildly, and Rodolphus thought she had never looked more beautiful and intimidating than in this moment. She didn't look to him for support or approval. She didn't need that from anyone. Surrounded by her peers, preaching the importance of blood purity, Bella looked like a queen or a priestess of old. Her wild hair gleamed in the firelight, and her dark eyes shone with conviction. Her magic crackled in the air around her, fierce and untamed. With just a few words, Bella had the entire room entranced. The circle of students gathered around her leaned ever closer, as if moths drawn to a flame.
Not that Rodolphus could blame them.
She was fervor. She was fury. She was fire.
And he was burning alive.
Rodolphus knew that being involved with Bella Black would, in all likelihood, end poorly for him. Even though he held the very same convictions, she was the one with the indomitable zeal. He could love her with all he had, but she would always love her ideals more. When the opportunity came to devote herself wholly to her cause, and Rodolphus knew that it would someday soon, she wouldn't hesitate to leave him behind.
It was what he both loved and hated most about her.
With every passing day, he found himself swallowed further by the passion blazing in her eyes. With every passing hour, he found himself even more consumed by her fire, walking ever deeper into the flames. Inevitably there would be nothing left of him except ashes.
But how sweet it was to burn.