An unlikely pair

4

Bellatrix’s P.O.V.

The night was unbearable. My dreams were filled with endless irritation, and when I woke, I knew the cause. Valentina. Of course. Who else? So what if she’s a princess? That doesn’t entitle her to everything. With the way she carries herself—entitled, naive, obnoxiously cheerful—France will burn under her reign.

She’s so insufferably immature. Full of herself in a way that makes even Sirius seem tolerable by comparison. Salazar help me, I think I hate her more than my own cousin. And that’s saying something.

---

Valentina’s P.O.V.

The morning greeted me kindly. For the first time in weeks, I felt refreshed. I stretched my limbs luxuriously before glancing around the dormitory. My roommates were still deep in slumber, their rhythmic breathing the only sound in the room. I tiptoed past them, deciding not to disturb their peace.

Especially the oldest one. Bellatrix Black. She’s… a piece of work, to put it mildly. I’ve never met someone so consumed by the concept of pureblood supremacy. It defines her, fuels her arrogance. She could use a little change—a dose of humility, perhaps. But I know how stubborn she is. Change feels impossible.

I sighed, stepping into the bathroom. A hot shower was exactly what I needed to shake off the lingering weariness. Steam fogged the glass as I allowed the water to soothe my muscles. But as I prepared to step out, the door swung open, and in strutted none other than Bellatrix herself—still clad in her ridiculous ballerina-like outfit.

“Bloody hell, Black! Knock next time, for Salazar’s sake!” I snapped, yanking the curtain shut.

Her sharp laugh echoed through the room. “I don’t think I will, princess. Here.” She tossed a towel over the curtain rod with little regard, and I grabbed it quickly, wrapping it around myself.

“Next time, try a locking charm,” she added smugly, splashing her face with cold water.

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe I will.”

She ignored me after that, focusing on brushing her teeth while I hurriedly dressed. At least she had the decency to keep her back turned.

“Well, I’ll see you in the Great Hall, Bellarina,” I said sarcastically as I grabbed my bag and wand.

---

The Slytherin common room was its usual cozy self, its green-and-silver décor illuminated by the flickering light of the fireplace. As expected, I found Regulus sitting by the hearth, nose buried in a book.

“Hewo!” I sang, plopping onto the couch beside him.

Startled, he yelped and threw the book into the air. “Merlin’s beard, Valentina! Don’t do that!”

Laughing, I caught the book midair and handed it back to him. “What are you reading, Reg?”

“History of Magic. Professor Binns is utterly useless,” he grumbled, flipping the page.

I tilted my head thoughtfully. “Fair point. But… hold on. You’re a year younger than me. How are we taking the same classes?”

He smirked slightly, looking up at me. “They moved me up a year. So, congratulations—you’re stuck with me.”

---

By the time we reached the Great Hall for breakfast, the Marauders had joined us. Their loud, energetic presence was impossible to miss.

“Morning!” I greeted, walking in with them.

Reg and I mobed to sit at the Slytherin table, though not without some parting words from Remus... well it wasmore like a growl to be completely honest. “See you later in class! Now I need coffee,” Sirius said.