#chat: bellatrix3

[lucius-whoisleft]

red pill // lucius & bellatrix

It had been hard, over the years, for Lucius to find anything to respect about Bellatrix Black. Her family was well-poised, of course–– her sisters polite, one of her cousins not entirely morally repugnant, her parents of good stock. He’d heard that she was clever and determined, but never bothered to look for proof of that himself. He was well-tuned to the hierarchy and knew that he should admire her off the bat (or at least act like he did), and that she was due a certain amount of deference because of her surname…but given the blatant contempt that she showed him (more accurately, that they openly showed one another) and the constant bruising to his ago and self-importance that it caused, it was hard to force even the polite smile society demanded.  He should have forced himself to fake some level of respect for her, but as a man easily trusted in the face of any lack in the high levels of respect and esteem he felt he deserved…he just couldn’t do it.

Which was why tonight was so surprising–– because something that felt suspiciously like a begrudging, respectful admiration was rising in Lucius’s chest.

He hadn’t been intending to run into the eldest Black sister today. In fact, he hadn’t been intending on running into anyone tonight; he was seeking alone time, far from even the communal throes of the dungeon. He’d thought the classroom would be empty as he happened upon it; it wasn’t until he was pushing the door open quietly and slithering his way inside that he realized who the room currently held…and what she was in the midst of practicing.

Rather than announcing himself properly, Lucius pulled out a chair from one of the desks by the door and sat, arms folded, the heavy door swinging shut behind him with a click that echoed. There was no mistaking the spell books Bellatrix had open around her, nor the pure feeling of dark magic in the air. Not for him, anyway; not for someone else who knew. But he was impressed, despite whatever else he felt toward the girl. This, at least, was something tangible he could spare a tight-jawed nod at and knew he couldn’t begrudge her. “You’re up late,” was all he said, his eyes trained carefully on her.

@bellatrix-whoisleft