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Nov. 16th, 2003 09:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinitydayAm very tired and hungover. Still. I'm sure that's not at all surprising to anyone who read my entries last night, though.
I have discovered that being hungover is good for several things. One, it made me want to read a long, engaging story, so I finally read Robin4's Promises Unbroken. Also, it puts me in the mood for darkfics. Consequently, I actually tried out one of15minuteficlets challenges for once. The result is partially Sirius/Bellatrix, mostly rambling and not very coherent. At least I don't think it is, but my eyes are actually shutting while writing this, so I'm not the best judge for anything tonight. But I gather that that's the point. If I actually do like it come morning, I might fix it up and post it in the Blackcest lists.
Cut for Blackcest and because it's what we're supposed to do.
~*~
Sirius and Bellatrix played chicken when they were younger. They dared each other to see who could go further, longer, faster, unflinchingly. The game started simply enough. They were young and forever competing. First it would be Sirius, trying to vex his parents. She wouldn’t tell. They didn’t always get along, but they would never tell on each other. They weren’t squealers, after all. But Sirius would decide that he was going to find a new way to piss his parents off. See how far he could push them before they snapped.
Bellatrix responded by seeing how far she could push Sirius.
When they were older – when they had wands – they used to duel with each other. No one else in the family understood the obsession. Neither were happier than when hurling hexes at each other. Sirius felt alive when he was weaving in and out of curses. Bellatrix felt a thrill every time she cast one. They rarely hit each other. They knew each other too well.
The spells advanced. Dark Magic was no mystery to the Black children. Sirius later said that Snape went into Hogwarts knowing more curses than most seventh years – he and Bellatrix knew just as many. Later, Sirius would be outspoken against Dark Magic. James was outspoken against the Dark Arts. Sirius refused to use it at all in Hogwarts corridors.
But he always knew the spells. And he knew how to avoid them – if there was such a way. That fact did not ultimately escape his friends’ notice.
Holidays were a different matter. When Sirius returned to Grimmauld Place, gone was the noble prankster that most Gryffindors knew him as. When he was at Grimmauld Place, he was a Black.
When he was with Bellatrix, he was alive.
They continued to duel. It seemed inevitable that the duelling led to what it did. Neither would admit it to anyone, for their different reasons, but they never fought it very hard.
Bellatrix had got the better of Sirius, knocked him flat on his back. She straddled him victoriously.
The excitement of the duel had already given Sirius a hard-on. It always did. Bellatrix leaned into it.
Neither fought it.
It was a holiday thing, only. At school, he was a Gryffindor. She was a Slytherin. He had forsaken the noble and ancient House of Black, even if his betrayal wasn’t formalized until he ran away.
They didn’t stop seeing each other after that; Hogwarts was too small a school. But where they had been antagonistic beforehand, now they just ignored.
It wasn’t until after Hogwarts that they duelled again. Sides fell the same way. He was in the Order. She was a Death Eater. And although she wore a mask, he always knew who she was. He always singled her ought when they faced each other.
If she didn’t single him out first.
He saw her when she was brought into Azkaban. She was proud, then. He wasn’t. He was only starting to get his mind back, after the numbing period of time after James died. She acted as if nothing could break her. She feared not the Dementors.
That soon changed.
But she didn’t break. He didn’t break. It was a contest, like everything they did was. The Blacks were too stubborn to let Azkaban get the better of them.
Sirius escaped and left Bellatrix behind. For that, more than anything else, even his betrayal, she could never forgive him. And when he left, he remembered the antagony they shared. He did not remember the game. Azkaban had robbed him of those memories.
And she was freed. Bellatrix remembered her cousin. She remembered his betrayal and his abandonment.
And once more they faced each other. And once more they fought.
And when Sirius fell through the Veil in the Department of Ministry, neither knew which one of them had won.
I have discovered that being hungover is good for several things. One, it made me want to read a long, engaging story, so I finally read Robin4's Promises Unbroken. Also, it puts me in the mood for darkfics. Consequently, I actually tried out one of
15minuteficlets challenges for once. The result is partially Sirius/Bellatrix, mostly rambling and not very coherent. At least I don't think it is, but my eyes are actually shutting while writing this, so I'm not the best judge for anything tonight. But I gather that that's the point. If I actually do like it come morning, I might fix it up and post it in the Blackcest lists.Cut for Blackcest and because it's what we're supposed to do.
Sirius and Bellatrix played chicken when they were younger. They dared each other to see who could go further, longer, faster, unflinchingly. The game started simply enough. They were young and forever competing. First it would be Sirius, trying to vex his parents. She wouldn’t tell. They didn’t always get along, but they would never tell on each other. They weren’t squealers, after all. But Sirius would decide that he was going to find a new way to piss his parents off. See how far he could push them before they snapped.
Bellatrix responded by seeing how far she could push Sirius.
When they were older – when they had wands – they used to duel with each other. No one else in the family understood the obsession. Neither were happier than when hurling hexes at each other. Sirius felt alive when he was weaving in and out of curses. Bellatrix felt a thrill every time she cast one. They rarely hit each other. They knew each other too well.
The spells advanced. Dark Magic was no mystery to the Black children. Sirius later said that Snape went into Hogwarts knowing more curses than most seventh years – he and Bellatrix knew just as many. Later, Sirius would be outspoken against Dark Magic. James was outspoken against the Dark Arts. Sirius refused to use it at all in Hogwarts corridors.
But he always knew the spells. And he knew how to avoid them – if there was such a way. That fact did not ultimately escape his friends’ notice.
Holidays were a different matter. When Sirius returned to Grimmauld Place, gone was the noble prankster that most Gryffindors knew him as. When he was at Grimmauld Place, he was a Black.
When he was with Bellatrix, he was alive.
They continued to duel. It seemed inevitable that the duelling led to what it did. Neither would admit it to anyone, for their different reasons, but they never fought it very hard.
Bellatrix had got the better of Sirius, knocked him flat on his back. She straddled him victoriously.
The excitement of the duel had already given Sirius a hard-on. It always did. Bellatrix leaned into it.
Neither fought it.
It was a holiday thing, only. At school, he was a Gryffindor. She was a Slytherin. He had forsaken the noble and ancient House of Black, even if his betrayal wasn’t formalized until he ran away.
They didn’t stop seeing each other after that; Hogwarts was too small a school. But where they had been antagonistic beforehand, now they just ignored.
It wasn’t until after Hogwarts that they duelled again. Sides fell the same way. He was in the Order. She was a Death Eater. And although she wore a mask, he always knew who she was. He always singled her ought when they faced each other.
If she didn’t single him out first.
He saw her when she was brought into Azkaban. She was proud, then. He wasn’t. He was only starting to get his mind back, after the numbing period of time after James died. She acted as if nothing could break her. She feared not the Dementors.
That soon changed.
But she didn’t break. He didn’t break. It was a contest, like everything they did was. The Blacks were too stubborn to let Azkaban get the better of them.
Sirius escaped and left Bellatrix behind. For that, more than anything else, even his betrayal, she could never forgive him. And when he left, he remembered the antagony they shared. He did not remember the game. Azkaban had robbed him of those memories.
And she was freed. Bellatrix remembered her cousin. She remembered his betrayal and his abandonment.
And once more they faced each other. And once more they fought.
And when Sirius fell through the Veil in the Department of Ministry, neither knew which one of them had won.