"Don't Blame Me"
Rita was utterly terrified. Not only did she just confess to being a lesbian to her bully, but her bully is also helping her and asked her to go to the Slytherin common room which is something you only do when you're friends with someone or you want to fuck someone. Either way, neither is something Rita wants to be to Bellatrix fucking Black.
I quickly hustle to the Slytherin dormitories which are located in the dungeons of all places. Because who doesn’t want to be completely surrounded by the cold, trolls, and the smell of failed potions.
“Hallucinate,” I state the password that I have learned due to over-hearing Slytherin gossipers.
The door that is framed with a long, golden snake slowly opens up wide to reveal a dark common room that is only lit by the glow of a sultry flame located in the fireplace.
“Excuse me, what is Ravenclaw girl doing in the Slytherin common room?” A tall dark-haired boy with golden eyes I recognize as Abel Mintz, the head boy of Slytherin, asks.
“I was told by Bellatrix Black to come here and wait for her. She’s the one that told me the password to get in,” I lie.
I can’t let anyone know that the way I get all of my information and gossip is by my unregistered animagus. I’ll be in so much trouble, and I know that Bella won’t mind taking the blame for me just once. Right?
“Okay, you can stay here for now but don’t get in anyone's way, we don't need your sickly mudblood hands touching all of our belongings,” Abel’s remark is followed by the heinous laughter of the other Slytherin students that is a little too similar to a hyena’s.
Abel goes back to studying for his N.E.W.T.S. on what seems like potions with a girl that seems to be his girlfriend based on how close they are together. This is going to make some good gossip, I must write this down, so that I can write about it for the school’s newspaper. Abel Mintz, the seventh year quidditch beater, dating Odette Roses, a 1st year girl who barely knows how to tie her own shoelaces yet.
I get out my notebook full of parchment along with my quill I put a spell on so that I never run out of ink, and I begin writing a story titled “Love on the Horizon”.
####
Bellatrix’s Point of View:
How dare anyone even think to hurt her like that. I quickly sprint over to the potions classroom. This is absolutely unacceptable and now they will feel the true wrath of the Black family. I take out a book titled “The Twisted Art of Potion Making” written by Louis Beausoleil before collecting the ingredients to make the potion.
Rapid Emerging Teeth:
Half a teaspoon mandrake root
One Spanish fly (sliced)
240 milliliters of crocodile blood
Half of an African red pepper
Combine all ingredients in your cauldron and mix continuously until the red turns into violet. This should take about 10 minutes then. Then let the concoction simmer for approximately 5 minutes. By now, the potion should have turned into a deep purple that contains shades of vibrant orange when stirred.
I make sure to cautiously follow the instructions to be sure to perfect the potion to cause maximum damage. She then transfers the boiling liquid to a small bottle made of rubies and emeralds that my parents gifted me for my thirteenth birthday.
It’s a truly beautiful bottle.
It’s a shame that my parents are truly terrible people.
I then continue to seal the bottle with golden colored wax to make sure that the potion says protected until I use it on my victims.
I accidentally burn my finger with the wax that causes me to slightly wince in pain. Nothing that I can’t handle. Obviously.
I wait for the golden wax to dry as it reminds me of the necklace that Rita was wearing. The one with the golden quill and the little beetle charms surround it. I wonder what her absurd fascination with beetles is.
I slip the bottle laced with rubies, emeralds, and golden wax into my pocket that is hidden on the inside of my green and silver Slytherin robes.
I quickly take off, sprinting down the corridors of the dungeon. When suddenly it hits me. I should ask Rita to go to the Gryffindor party with me. Then she’ll be forced to talk to me.
That is the best plan I have ever come up with.
####
After about 20 minutes of writing my newest article in my notebook the one and only Bellatrix Druella Black walks into the common room.
“Skeeter, I see you made it alright. Come along,” she says before trudging up the steps where I would presume her dormitories are.
I hastily follow her up the steps, being extra sure not to make too much noise since everything in this house seems to be quieter than I’ve ever experienced. Despite Ravenclaws being mostly known for their studying they do make more noise than these students ever could.
As I walk, I take extra note of how cold it seems to be in this house. I wonder if the students here are used to the erratic temperature or that is why they always have the fire lit. But then again, they could always have the fire lit for light because Merlin it sure is dark in here.
“Be careful to watch your step daily. I don’t want to have to explain to Professor Slughorn why a Ravenclaw girl broke her neck on our steps,” she says.
This sends a chill down my spine. Not only because she mentioned me breaking my neck as if that is not a dark topic to her at all but how she also called me deary. I clearly don’t think that I’ll never not fall for someone who calls me a pet name like ‘deary’ as simple as she did. I’m such a whore for simple pet names.
“Okay,” I simply respond.
How could I be so stupid? She mentions you falling and breaking your neck and the only thing, you decide to respond with is something as simple as ‘okay’. I wouldn’t be surprised if she kicks me out now. I would kick someone out if they responded with ‘okay’ after telling them not to break their neck. Something like ‘that’s a little morbid’ or ‘I’ll try my best not to’ would’ve fit so much better than just responding with the word ‘okay’.
At last, we finally make it all the way up the cobblestone steps that were basically crumbling away beneath our feet.
“How did you get into the common room? I never gave you the password,” She inquires.
“Oh, I overheard some students saying it and I decided I might as well give it a try,” It wasn’t an entire lie of course, I don’t pride myself in being a liar but to keep myself out of trouble or to get a half-decent story I will slightly alter the truth.
She opens the door to her dormitory and walks inside waiting for me. I follow after her. I will admit her room was cleaner than I expected it to be. Most girls my age are either so clean that they shine like a crystal, or they look like a homeless man has been sleeping there with their pet racoon for the past month or two.
Hers was neither. It wasn’t overly clean like I would presume of a Black’s to be, but it also wasn’t under clean like a poor single mom of five would be. I tear my eyes away from how clean her room looks and see her over near a nightstand of a perfectly made bed. The bed seems to lack any sign of a crease and seems almost as if she has been trained to perfectly make her bed every single morning without it ever having even a speck of dust or a single crease in the covers or on the pillows.
“Care for one?” I hear her ask and I make eye contact with her.
She is handing a fag to me, and I almost feel the need to say yes just for the experience, but I know they are addicting, and I know that my mother will kill me if she finds out that putting toxic material in my body.
“No, I’m alright,” I respond.
“Suit yourself,” she states before lighting the fag with the tip of her wand.
The more I look at her the more I begin to notice everything perfect about her. Her hair has the perfect number of curls and eyes have the perfect amount of green in them even if that means not having a lot to begin with. Her cheekbones are perfectly defined, and her pale skin makes sure that you can see her impeccable features.
“Your eyes have a little green in them,” I tell her not thinking enough to try and use my filter, so I don’t say anything dumb.
“Nobody ever really notices,” She responds simply. The way she responds almost makes me feel like she’s scared to talk to me. Not that she should be scared but sometimes I can seem a bit intimidating to talk to.
“Skeeter,” She whispers, “Have you ever been in love?”
I feel the blood rush to my cheeks. Shit can she tell? Is it obvious that I’m in love with her? It has only been 10 seconds, but I have already had over thousands of thoughts running through my mind about her.
“No, I can say I have,” I truly am a dumbass, aren’t I?
“Because I think I like this boy,” Shit it’s a boy so it’s not me thank Merlin.
Shit it’s a boy.
“I think you should pay extra close attention to those girls' teeth tomorrow,” She states as if it is not a big deal which makes me question what she did.
“What do you mean?” I inquire.
“Oh, it’s nothing just make sure to pay extra close attention because I’m sure that one of them is going to spill,” She shrugs her perfectly curved shoulders that make me notice that the blouse she is wearing shows off defined collarbone that look almost as perfect as gothic architecture.
Almost.
“There’s a Gryffindor party happening tomorrow, and I’m wondering if you wanted to storm it with me and a group of friends?” She questions.
“Who are,” I hesitate to ask my question, “Who are this group of friends?” I push the sentence out.
“Just my sister and my close friends: Andromeda, Rodolphus Lestrange, Morella Parkinson, and two others whom you won’t know,” She replies.
I wonder if she knows that at night, she’s all I can think about. I think about what she looks like standing under the moonlight. I think about what she looks like when she is wearing a black ball gown, and I definitely think about what she looks like when she is wearing nothing.
“I think I’m going to take you up on that offer,” I respond, and I can almost instantly see the smirk appear on her face and then the blood rushing to my face.