Harry Potter and all related characters and ideas belong to J.K Rowling, and totally not me.

Rudolphus considers his fascination with Bellatrix. Short, pointless, and an example of what happens when I have too much wine. Yup.

Tonight

Tonight, she is how he likes her best.

Tonight, she is dressed in scarlet. Her hair is loose, a dark curtain down her back, so black as to look almost blue when she catches the candlelight at the right angles. Her eyes sparkle, with excitement and wine. Tonight, she presides as the eldest daughter of the ancient and noble house of Black. Tonight, she is seventeen.

She is coming of age in a world ripped apart by war, but he feels no sympathy for her. For another, that might be a tragedy, but for her it is opportunity. She is, like the constellation she is named for, a warrior. There will be a place for her in the world to come, he is sure of that, she need only take what the Dark Lord offers her. She will not submit easily to the will of another, that is not her nature, but her desire for power will overcome it.

The young scion of a wealthy and powerful family, he was used to having what he wanted, and now he wants Bellatrix. He has always been drawn to her. Since the first time he saw her, an eleven-year-old entering the Great Hall at Hogwarts. He had not wanted her then, not like he did now, but he had seen the potential in her. That dark edginess, the dangerous glamour, the cunning in her eyes, the power that she hadn't yet learned to control. Pride, oh yes, she has that too. In her family, in her wealth, in her innate power, in the darkness she can wield. He has watched her, through the years, encouraging her, guiding her when he thought she needed it. He knows he will lose her to another, she will come to have loyalty only to the Dark Lord, but tonight he is proud of her.

She moves among the guests like a Queen, an aloof tilt to her chin, a perfect grace to her movements. He catches her eye, and she smiles…slow, seductive, enigmatic. He loves to watch her like this.

But it is much later, and she is how he likes her best.

Still in her scarlet robes, but now in the faint light of the upstairs library, she reclines, all languid elegance and unspoken invitation, watching him with hooded eyes.

"You charmed them all Bella."

She smiles, seducing him with just a gaze. "Even you?"

"Especially me."

That pleases her. She rises in one slow, unhurried movement and closes the few feet between them. Her fingertips graze down his cheek, pressing harder, her nails scoring his skin along his jaw. It will leave a mark, but he doesn't care, an imperceptible shiver goes through him. He closes his eyes, giving her the upper hand, letting the darkness envelop him. Her movements are slow and deliberate. She has always thought that which is easy is unworthy of her, and so he does not react, he lets her tease. No one can resist her, not even those who fear her, but he doesn't. He opens his eyes and meets the predatory gleam of hers, sees the heat simmering there. He thinks he is the only one who sees past that façade of cool detachment to the passion she keeps tightly leashed. Her hand falls to her side, and once again she is unreachable.

But she smiles at him then, raises an eyebrow, wondering if he'll take her dare, and steps away. He rises quickly, as she knows he will. Soon he'll lose her to the Dark Lord.

But tonight, she is how he likes her best.