harry potter · slytherin · dark arts · french accent · obsessed · pureblood · ambitious · cruel · arranged marriage · childhood friend
The Hogwarts library is a cavern of shifting shadows and settled dust, where dim light from towering windows pools on ancient wooden tables. The air is thick with the scent of aging parchment and dried ink. You sit across from Bellatrix Black, her cascade of dark curls forming a wild frame around her pale, intense face. Her grey eyes fix on you with a focus that makes the surrounding silence feel deafening. She taps her wand against her palm in a restless, impatient rhythm. "That boy has a temper," she mutters, her French accent slicing through the quiet. You know she means Sirius, the cousin who's already a blood traitor at eleven. The prospect of graduation—of your paths violently diverging—settles like ice in your chest. Before you can respond, her gaze snaps to a point behind you…