I promised I would update so here it is!
I love Bella and Sirius, and I love their relationship, how confusing it is. So I decided to write this, exploring their hatred for each other.
Six for Gold
Sometimes she wondered exactly what it was that she hated so much about her cousin.
There was of course, the fact that before he had been born, she had been the one the family had admired. They said her name with pride – "Such a strong little girl, our Bellatrix is, such a pretty little girl," they would croon to their high-society pureblood friends. And Bellatrix liked this, because she was strong, and she was a pretty little thing on the eye. She was the daughter the Black family respected the most – though they thought Andromeda's intelligence was satisfactory and little Narcissa was like a cherub with her blonde curls and wide blue eyes – but Druella and Cygnus always looked upon Bellatrix with the most pleasure as she was the strongest and the most superior of the three children, ready to take on the responsibility of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black should no male heir be born.
And then, when she was almost nine years old and had been assured that now, what with Walburga and Orion aging rapidly, that one day she would manage the household, Walburga fell pregnant.
There was a stupid story behind it as well, as far as Bellatrix knew. Walburga had been sitting on her bed and staring at the Dog Star with admiration of its glow, and had wished that one day she would have a child as strong as that. Bellatrix despised the tale; it sounded far too much like Muggle fantasy for her appreciation. Walburga had given birth nine months later to a son named Sirius, who was born with a full head of hair and whose eyes had turned to stone grey by the time Bellatrix had met him, the same colour, she had added in silence to herself, as must be his heart after he stole her inheritance.
And suddenly the family revolved around him – they wanted him to take the most curses with an immovable face to prove his strength instead of her, they wanted him to have the bigger bedroom although he was only four and she was thirteen ("an adolescent Mother, an adolescent"), they wanted him to start thinking about what important decisions to make in the future.
But it was only Bellatrix who could see that he was a nasty little blood traitor who spent his days out with the Muggle filth, coming home with grazed knees and mud splattered up the legs of tatty Muggle jeans.
Bellatrix had dobbed him in once or twice, only to have him get her back by telling them of all the nasty tricks she had been playing on Narcissa as of late.
It wasn't until he was eight and enquiring why he couldn't go to Muggle primary school with his 'friends' that their family began to realise something was very different when it came to Sirius, and by then it was too late to change the fact that he had seized what should have been Bellatrix's inheritance.
But perhaps it wasn't the family issue that she hated most. After all, he had been disowned, thrown from the house, and she still found him sickening.
It wasn't his careless looks either; she was gifted with the beauty that befell most members of the Black family: the grey eyes, the distinguishing cheek bones that set each face with lackadaisical radiance, the coils of glossy raven hair. They were both gifted with grace, although Bellatrix knew how to flaunt hers, to use it to her advantage so that she could twist the minds of fickle men into the way she wished, to arrange opportunities without having to lift a finger.
It was, after all, she who had taught him to make the most of his endowment of elegance; to pull his hair back from his face at parties to reveal that bone structure, to stand up straight rather than slouch ("Need I tie a plank to your back in order to make you stand correctly, child?"), to flash a smile on a rare occasion in order to gain discipline attention from those who wanted to please. But did he listen? Was it her fault that the boy was as stubborn as a hippogriff?
Nor was it his stubbornness that drove her insane, though it did annoy her, slightly. It was definitely a trait of the Black family, undying ignorance that could not be quashed. Walburga and Orion had been so proud when he had first displayed this trait. "A true Black," they would crow to everyone with the smug smirk of a child who had been told they could buy as much sugar as they desired from Honeydukes.
But it only seemed to be plain to Bellatrix that he was not a Black, and that this so called family trait would be used to hinder his parents and relatives. Bella could see that this child was abnormal; he had everything and yet he seemed to question it. She remembered being insanely jealous when, for his fifth birthday, he had been given a figurine made from the finest ebony, gold woven in intricate patterns to highlight finite scales, emeralds glinting as two small curved eyes. The snake moved in such a lifelike animation, and shimmered in the light. It was stunning in her mind, and she longed to possess it. And yet, Sirius hadn't liked it. She had lifted him up to see it ("Pick him up, Bellatrix, I am too weary to tire my hand with him," Walburga had excused herself) and he had recoiled. Frankly, she couldn't understand why; if she had been presented with such an exquisite gift she would have taken pride in its ownership.
"I don't like it," Sirius insisted as he hid his face in her chest. "Bella have?" he asked her. Bella was most inclined to say yes; was he having a laugh? Of course she'd take it!
But Walburga spoke first. "Don't be silly, boy. Your father has bought you the most splendid gift, and you must keep it."
He questioned parties; she could recall them having an argument over why he should wear dress robes when he didn't even want to "play dress up as the high society fuckwit" with her that had resulted in him being placed under the Imperius curse by his father for the first time and Bella being centre of attention for the evening.
So perhaps that wasn't so bad, his indecorous resolution to rebel against the family at all cost gained her some respect from other dignitaries.
That didn't mean she liked him.
I'm not sure if you can see the bit that's gold, I think I was intending the statuette, but here you are. Maybe you could English lit read into it? :D
Anyway, thanks for bearing with me! Hopefully I'll have another chapter up soon. I went to the Warner Bros studios last week and I'm feeling inspired, they were amazing, and I just rewatched Deathly Hallows Part II, which I still have post-depression for at the moment, but this sudden urge to write. Whether or not I will remains to be seen! :P
Thank you guys!