There's A Side To You I Never Knew [[Open]]

[BELLATRIX ANTILA BLACK]

It was quiet here, in the darkest corner of the dusty library Bellatrix could find. There was a singular lamp above her, diffusing soft light upon her dark form huddled in the plush wing back chair she hid herself within. Bellatrix would never say she was a paranoid person, however, at that moment she was feeling anything but calm. She felt as though she was constantly looking over her shoulder; double, then triple checking she was alone. It wasn’t even as though she was doing anything particularly bad, she simply wanted privacy.
Deeming that she was, in fact, alone she pulled her battered copy of the Prophet from her dragon hide shoulder bag, flicking it open across her knees. No one knew she received the paper daily, and whenever someone asked her if she had heard about something within it she would deny it, she couldn’t say exactly why. The truth was she only read a few stories out of the whole thing, mostly those pertaining to a certain wizard who still wasn’t making the headlines.
Her father wouldn’t talk about his business, he wouldn’t speak about how deep he was within this Lord Voldemorts ranks, and so Bella had to get her information another way. The Prophet was seriously lacking.
She wanted to know where he was, what he looked like and how it was that he became so powerful. Bellatrix had always been drawn to power, to earning it and capturing it, to following it and learning from it. It was all she needed or wanted, there was no question that she would become fascinated by this mysterious man. She knew that other’s feared him, and she only wished she could command such respect.
Placing the Prophet on the table, once again disappointed at the lack of information held within its pages, she retrieved her sketchbook from the depths of her bag, removing her box of charcoal after. Sketching was just another thing no one knew she did, except her sisters as they were the one’s who bought her the supplies. To the thick parchment she began imagining what this Lord could look like. She envisioned high cheekbones and cold, calculating eyes, though she could not stop her fingers from drawing a terribly handsome man.
Bellatrix was just adding some shadows to the man’s eyes, imagining looking into them in real life and what she might say to such an influential man, when a noise from behind her made her stop. Her heart began to pound as the unmistakable sounds of footsteps stopped just to the side of her chair. She didn’t dare look up to see who it was, having no idea how to react to this situation.

ATTIRE deep purple calf length dress, black lace ankle boots. CREDIT sam ! of Confronting the Faceless. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS set fire to the rain - adele NOTES no notes, just open! WORD COUNT 451

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[REMUS JOHN LUPIN]

There was always something to do for you if your most dire worry was that you would end up workless, and stay workless forever. Endless things to learn, half of which you were predestined to forget. Even ghosts learned and forgot. Apparently it was not all a matter of neurons and chemistry. Chemistry, the kind of chemistry that connected two people to be friends, or enemies. Bad chemistry. Remus was lacking it. It did not occur to him to hate another student. To judge somebody. He would much rather be neutral or friendly with people, yes, he liked to be liked, a weakness in itself. Sometimes others would take advantage of it, but what was that compared to loneliness? Nothing seemed worse to the werewolf than loneliness. Spite. And maybe being workless.

The library seemed empty, except for Madam Pince, naturally, and a few Third Years, nervously working on a last-minute attempt of their homework. Remus didn't envy them. He knew that feeling too well, since once a month he wasn't thoroughly himself for about a week. After those days, he had to rush absolutely everything, every time, though usually with good help from James and Sirius and their ridiculous talent for - well, everything.

This particular afternoon, there was no need to rush, and no more homework to be done, and thus the werewolf steered - without any sincere intention - towards the sections of the library in the back of the room, where there was less light. It was also the place where the books about the Dark Arts were stored. And those were exactly the kind of books Moony loved, the Dark Arts and the Defense a passion like few others to him. Usually, he was sure to be alone in this section but for Severus Snape - the teacher in DADA changed every year, so most students deemed it useless to learn from one book or another - and surely enough, he could spot a head of dark hair. However, upon a second glance, this particular hair was longer and definitely a lot cleaner than Snape's. It was a girl's.

The girl was in the darkest corner possible, a dead end Remus had steered into without paying attention. There were two choices now; either take a book and then scoot, or pretend that he was not completely strange and talk to her. Hopefully it was not somebody completely awful, Remus thought. He was right next to her now, and before he saw her face, the Gryffindor saw the drawing she had made. It portrayed a very handsome man, a man Remus had never seen before. He wondered if he was her boyfriend - and if that boyfriend would come to haunt him if he spoke to her. His gaze wandered to her face, bright amber meeting black - no, it was not yet black, but the darkest indigo Remus knew. And he knew whom it belonged to, just as well.

Sirius' cousin Bellatrix.

"I'm sorry", he said hoarsely, but friendly. It was no use to not be friendly to her just because Sirius disliked her - yes, Remus knew the reasons, and he disapproved of those values, too, but he couldn't help it. "I didn't want to interrupt you. Guess I got carried away." Before turning away, Remus dared another gaze at her scetch. "Really neat drawing, by the way, really neat..."

---

Note: Hope this is along the lines what you hoped for (: I would have thrown Milla in, but I figured she would probably think the library is useless and lame.

[BELLATRIX ANTILA BLACK]

Her heart was pounding in her throat, Bellatrix wasn’t sure she’d been this nervous since her father had found her stash of muggle art supplies – wizards simply didn’t have the commodity for art it seemed. Eventually, she turned to face he who had trespassed on her privacy. She was met by hazel eyes set in a scarred and tired looking face, however, Bellatrix, who had seen this boy numerous times, could see past this and note he was not truly unpleasant to look upon; she had seen worse.

"I'm sorry", he said hoarsely. Bellatrix was shocked by his words, never expecting one of Sirius’ friends to interact with her. "I didn't want to interrupt you. Guess I got carried away." As he turned Bellatrix saw his eyes slant once more to the drawing in her lap. "Really neat drawing, by the way, really neat..."

No one had ever seen her drawings before, aside from her sisters, and the idea that this boy enjoyed them meant a great deal more to her than she could have imagined. Bellatrix knew that he knew her, knew her family and all they were capable of. Yet still he spoke to her, kindly and without fear. It was such a strange occurrence; Bellatrix hardly wanted it to end.

While Bellatrix put off an air of apathy which, at most times was entirely un-forced, she was still just a girl, who sometimes craved human interaction. One could not be an island unto themselves alone, no matter how much she wished she could be. Bellatrix truly did not know the boy who spoke to her, other than him being Sirius’ friend, she found that she didn’t want to classify him as such; surely he was his own person? She knew how annoying it was to be constantly attached to someone else’s name.

The boy had taken barely three steps before she spoke up, she could not say what made her interact with him. He had always seemed strange to her, aloof and distant, though she supposed some would say the same of herself. However, he had liked her drawing, and he was no muggle of that much she knew for certain.

“Remus, is it?” When he paused she continued. “I’m Bella,” she cringed marginally at the introduction, thinking that he clearly knew who she was, “would you like to have a seat?” She barely realised she was holding her breath as she waited for him to reply.

CREDIT sam ! of Confronting the Faceless. Don't remove the credit or I will find you.

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Note: I don't know what I was looking for xD, just there haven't been many posts here lately and I wanted some interaction for Bella - I'm writing her FF and need to work on her character so ty

[REMUS JOHN LUPIN]

"Remus, is it? I’m Bella." Her voice called him back from where he had been going. He had expected anything - a spiteful retort, ignorance, an angry laugh maybe - but not a friendly hello. She was Bella, well, he knew that of course, but she was right to introduce herself; they had never really spoken, nor said hello to each other. It was an unspoken law among the Marauders to not say anything to Sirius' relatives, in consideration of his feelings. Although it was also an unspoken law among boys that it was better to pretend that you didn't have any feelings at all, this was of course nowhere near the truth.

As Bellatrix asked him to take a seat, Remus turned his head, and then decided to return to her table. If nothing else, an interesting conversation could come from this. He only hoped that Bella Black wasn't only picking on him. He could handle all the ridiculing directed towards him by now, but he wasn't sure what Bella was capable of.

When he had sat down, the werewolf made sure not to let any of his doubt show on his face when he looked at Bella. What people said was true, she had the stunning pureblood beauty, and resembled her cousin to some point. Remus had never before looked at her long enough to notice this, at least not since they had been children of eleven or young teens - when he had still been afraid of anything and everybody. By now, Bella was clearly a woman, and she looked as superior as a princess or queen would.

"Remus, yes", he answered courageously. "And thanks for offering... do you draw a lot? It looks like you always do this..." It wasn't even a lie. Remus' mother had been a muggle, and she took him to get to know the muggle museums and galleries had loved so much when he was a child, so he knew at least more about the topic than most other wizard children. And what Bella had drawn looked quite neat, even if the proud handsome man on the parchment intimidated Remus a little bit.

[BELLATRIX ANTILA BLACK]

As soon as Remus sat himself upon the chair opposite Bellatrix, a nervous tension settled within her. She was not, as her mother liked to put it a ‘social butterfly’, idle chit-chat was an unknown entity, and she truly had no idea how to make friends. This boy before her was a Gryffindor, he was brave and true, honest and proud, almost the complete opposite to herself; they were chalk and cheese. What on earth would they have to speak about?

And yet, his company soothed her. He didn’t look nervous, only determined. It was different and refreshing; she only hoped their conversation would hold. She honestly had no clue what they would speak of, and she was suddenly regretting her decision to ask him to sit; Bellatrix was sure she would make a fool of herself.
"Remus, yes," he said, breaking Bella from her thoughts. "And thanks for offering... do you draw a lot? It looks like you always do this..."

Were she not so afraid of looking like a dolt in front of this obviously confident young man, she would have breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed he knew how to steer a conversation, which was a blessing as all of Druella’s lessons on the art of small talk had suddenly vanished from Bellatrix’s mind.

“More than most would think, almost everyday in fact,” she replied calmly. Her voice seemed louder in the quiet of the library, and as she spoke again she lowered her tone. “I used to want to take lessons, except that art isn’t really well practiced in our world. To have lessons I would have-“ Here she broke off. She was about to say that to have lessons she would have had to go to a muggle professor. However, she was almost certain that Remus was only half blood, meaning one of his parents had to be a muggle. She didn’t want to offend this boy who was speaking to her by explaining all the reasons why a muggle professor would be inappropriate.

“Well, I never had them anyway.” She shrugged absently, before smiling serenely at Remus. “Do you draw?”

CREDIT sam ! of Confronting the Faceless. Don't remove the credit or I will find you.

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[REMUS JOHN LUPIN]

In one way or another, Remus could clearly tell that Bella was still the girl he got to know, or at least her outside. When she first replied, her voice sounded loud and proud to him, a tone he had heard her talk in before. Not being a very secure youth, he still wasn't scared of Bella, of course, or of any other student at that. He had been made a target of the Slytherin boys of his same year before, simply because they had thought that it would be easier to get him and Peter than Sirius and James - and unfortunately this had proved to be true for Peter, until he had become an Animagus and could simply turn around the corner and become a rat to disappear. Remus however had no problem at all to defend his skin. Besides, he doubted that anything a Slytherin could do could be worse than transforming into a werewolf and biting yourself all night.

Bellatrix, apparently having noticed her loud voice, continued in a much smoother tone as she explained - or didn't explain - why she had never had art lessons. She didn't have to spell it out for Moony to understand, and neither did he take offense. Yes, his mother had been a muggleborn. But that Bella and her family disliked her didn't make her a lesser person in his eyes. They weren't powerful nor important enough to tarnish the memory of her. Most of all not Bella, who had been risen this way, indoctrinated like Sirius' brother. Like they had tried to do to Sirius, too. Perhaps it was also the fact that Remus and his father, and also his mother when she had been alive, had been called much worse insults than mudblood or bloodtraitor. For a second, Remus asked himself what his father was doing in this moment.

"I don't. In fact I am not even sure whether I could draw a stick figure that wouldn't look like a heap of flobberworms. Does that mean you have a portfolio of handsome drawings locked in the Slytherin dungeons?" Moony smiled at Bella. It was still a surprise that she seeked the conversation, but perhaps, only perhaps, it was possible that she grew tired of the half-wits in her house, or so Remus thought. They would never be friends, no doubt in that, unless Bella changed her views and side (and Moony was not that blue eyed), but she was, as far as he knew, sophisticated, and would be interesting to talk to.

"It's not like I am completely hopeless in arts though", he continued, "I can play the piano. Though I really rarely do now", he admitted. "The Gryffindors don't have one. I guess they don't give us anything shiny because we do have the tendency to party on our furniture." There was an old piano in the Shrieking Shack which he sometimes repaired - the keys apparently were a nice toy for the werewolf, and that meant that they were destroyed regularly and needed a good few reparo spells. But of course, that was not something he would or could talk about to Bella.

[BELLATRIX ANTILA BLACK]

As Remus spoke Bellatrix idly drew on a blank section of the page, beneath the image she had previously drawn. He was an interesting one to capture on paper, with so many scars it wasn’t easy, but Bella had always enjoyed a challenge. She found his eyes fascinating, the shape and colour were somehow otherworldly in nature, and as she doodled she attempted to capture that look of sincerity and determination that seemed to glow from within him.
When she paused she found herself looking at two starkly different drawings, one was an idealised vision of a man she was fascinated by, his face was structured and keen, eyes’ piercing with what she almost swore was distaste at her second study. Her drawing of Remus was entirely different, it showed a tired young man, with eyes far older than himself. Bella found herself almost disappointed that this would be the only drawing she would be able to make of him; for there was no way that she could suggest he sit for her, not the stalwart Gryffindor who was best friends with her most despised cousin.
“I was once given piano lessons, we all were: Andromeda, Narcissa, and myself. However, I was never any good, short fingers,” here she wiggled said fingers, which she had never imagined to be short, and shrugged, “so I stopped.”
When she spoke again she was not looking to the boy sitting before her, but off through a rain streaked window. “There’s not an awful lot of, as you say, shiny things in our dorm either, as I doubt there is in any of them. It’s not simply Gryffindor’s who break their furniture or party on it; I believe it’s just teenagers in general.”
Languidly she turned her midnight eyes back to Remus, only then realising how relaxed she was. He would never be more than a conversation partner, an acquaintance she would no longer ignore should they cross in the halls, unless of course he was with Sirius, but she felt calm around him. That was until she turned back to the portrait in her lap, and remembered the other part of his questions. It was not Bellatrix’s way to leave a direct question unanswered.
“And no, while I do have a general collection of my work, this is the only drawing of this person I have. I doubt I shall draw another.”
Hoping to change the subject, though having no real idea of how curious this boy could be she asked something of her own, a mundane question, and a rather obvious one at that, but a necessary one she thought.
"So, what brought you to the library?"

CREDIT sam ! of Confronting the Faceless. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS set fire to the rain - adele

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[REMUS JOHN LUPIN]

While they were talking, Remus noticed that Bella had started to draw him. He felt his throat go a little dry and looked at the floor, partly embarrassed and partly to hide his features from Bellatrix and her pencil. Moony dreaded nothing more than drawing attention to the angry scars on his face, and the Slytherin artist had captured them all with a sharp eye. If she had known what had caused them, Remus was sure that Bella would have run off, and maybe spat at him.

"Hmmm.. right.. everybody breaks theirs", the werewolf mumbled, not really having heard all that she had said. For a moment, it depressed Remus that in not even a year's time, this girl would probably be an enemy to him, that they would possibly fight each other directly. Ton the end. He had chosen his side - and he believed that she had, too. His eyes flickered up to her face. She was beautiful, and she had any possibility in the world. No need for all the hatred, he thought sadly to himself.

When Bella asked what he had been looking for in the library, Moony's answer came rather fast and dumbly: "The Dark Arts." He was still looking at her, snapping out of it only when he noticed how that had sounded. "Defense, I mean. The books." Good job, Lupin, you didn't seem ridiculous enough yet. There had not yet been time to repair his cloak since the last full moon.

[BELLATRIX ANTILA BLACK]

He seemed uncomfortable. Bellatrix had a feeling that had he not wanted to appear nervous in her company he would have been shifting in his seat. What had she done? It was hard for her to imagine that something she had said had offended him, or made him the least bit awkward in her company. Or perhaps that was it, was it simply her company? No, she decided, he was still engaging her in conversation.

Bellatrix would never admit how grateful she was to get away from the topic of her drawings, and as inconspicuously as she could she slipped the sketchbook from the table and back into her dragonhide shoulder bag on the floor. She shifted in her seat as she faced Remus once more, drawing her legs up beneath her on the chair.

“Oh yes, but of course, you’re rather proficient in it aren’t you?” She smiled, attempting to look not in the least bit threatening in a hapless bid to calm his obvious wariness. Not even if asked would she have a reason why she cared how he felt, perhaps it was that this was the most honest conversation she had had with anyone other than her sisters in what felt like forever. How melodramatic of her.

“So, is it for a class or simple pleasure? Personally I just enjoy reading about defensive spells, though if I’m honest I also seek out the offense. Father always says, ‘How are you to defend yourself against something, if you don’t know what it is you’re battling?’” One of the most sensible things he ever said, she thought spitefully.

“I have to admit however, that I’m much better on the defence,” she smiled, thinking how one day she would master both sides. She would be more powerful than her father ever expected, of that much she was sure.

CREDIT sam ! of Confronting the Faceless. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS set fire to the rain - adele

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[REMUS JOHN LUPIN]

What Bella's father had told her seemed like a morbid, twisted lie to Remus. Being friends with Sirius had made one thing dead clear to him: The Blacks did not wish to defend. They wished to rule, to destroy, to have power and for others to be afraid of them. And my father says that fear is often mistaken as respect by those who don't deserve any, he thought glumly, while at the same time he still wouldn't blame Bella - her father, yes, more likely. Either way, he certainly did not feel the need to 'know what he was battling' any better than he did. Than he unfortunately did.

"I guess I am okay at it", he admitted. James might have said "it's Moony's understatement of the month", and the werewolf was aware of that, but he simply did not want to, nor could he trust in his abilities. It was a bit ironic that his best and favorite subject was the same that had taught him how to kill one of his own race in the third year. There was a memory of Peter giving him a note during that class with what was supposed to be a beheaded wolf. Then a memory how Peter kept being dramatic about the fresh bruise on his head for the rest of the day.

Noticing how cold he must have seemed during the last moments, Remus attempted to look a bit happier to the outside. He showed a thin smile at Bella, and put his chin into his hand while looking at her. "Everybody has their own idea of good defense", he said calmly, in his raspy, howl-ridden voice. "Like your father, mine taught me a lot as well. I guess it's always also a matter of what you make of your abilities that determines whether you understood something or not." Thank Merlin for diplomacy, he added in his mind, finally able to relax a bit.

[BELLATRIX ANTILA BLACK]

Bellatrix shifted in her seat once more, bouncing her crossed leg and twisting her ankle. It was not a nervous fidget, she simply could not sit still – very rarely could. Her mother hated her movements, believed that a Black woman should be poised at all times, like Narcissa. As she shifted she modulated her expression, terribly aware of how threatening she could be. She kept her smile light, her eyes clear, and shoulders relaxed; because she was comfortable.

“Okay, may be selling yourself somewhat short; I’ve seen you in class. You’re very good.” One of the best, in truth, him and those he associated with; except that poor smaller boy whose name escaped her. But Remus shone, in a way she could appreciate. Modesty was a trait one did not often see in most of those she associated with, and while modesty to the point of denial annoyed her to no end, she couldn’t stand a boastful idiot.

“And I’m not sure any of the Professors would enjoy hearing you say that,” she laughed softly, “they would say that understanding can be reached by anyone so long as they put the work in. Personally, I agree with you, without confidence in yourself you’ll get nowhere.”

It was the one part of being part of the ‘pure-blood elite’ that she had, Bellatrix would also be confident in herself; always sure of her abilities, and magical talent. After all she had been practically bred for it, hadn’t she?

CREDIT sam ! of Confronting the Faceless. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS set fire to the rain - adele

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