Beatrice Lestrange has always been an outsider in her own story. Born into one of the darkest families in the wizarding world, she grew up under the looming shadow of her infamous mother Bellatrix Lestrange.
Despite this, Beatrice is nothing like th...
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Never in a million years had Beatrice imagined her winter break would begin like this. Being jolted awake in the middle of the night by Professor Sprout banging on her dormitory door was not exactly her idea of holiday cheer. And all because Harry had one of his random craziness outbursts or, as everyone else insisted on calling it, a vision.
To make matters worse, she'd been dragged up to Dumbledore's office alongside him, where the headmaster had wasted no time in questioning her as if she had been the one writhing around with prophetic nightmares.
Did you feel anything, Beatrice? Did you sense anything unusual?
No, Professor, unless you count the fact that she'd been having a perfectly innocent dream about Hermione at the time.
And she definitely wasn't sharing that information.
At least there was one upside to this whole debacle now, she was at Grimmauld Place, sprawled across the sitting room floor, playing wizard chess with Sirius while everyone else had gone to visit Mr. Weasley at St. Mungo's.
Apparently, Arthur had actually been attacked, which, alright, maybe made Harry's vision slightly less crazy. Still, that didn't mean she wasn't allowed to be bitter about being dragged into it.
— You could at least pretend to care — Sirius drawled, as he command his knight forward.
— I do care, — Bea said, stretching out on the floor, — I just care more about my personal right to sleep through the night without being interrogated like I'm some kind of Dark Seer. —
— Well, — he said, watching as one of her pawns brutally tackled his bishop, — at least you got out of the hospital visit. Clever move, by the way, using me as an excuse. —
— Obviously, — Bea said, smirking. — I mean, someone had to keep you company, right? Can't have you wallowing here all alone, looking tragic. —
Sirius huffed a laugh, but there was something softer in his expression now. — Yeah, well. I suppose I should be grateful. Most people wouldn't choose to spend their holiday cooped up with a wanted criminal. —
Bea rolled her eyes. — Please, I've spent my whole life surrounded by criminals. You're the only one who's actually decent. —
Sirius stared at her for a moment, then looked away, lips twitching in amusement. — Alright, alright. Play your next move, Little Lestrange. —
Bea grinned, flicking her wand. — Prepare to lose, Black. —
Bea's happiest moment, by far, was when Hermione arrived at Grimmauld Place. The moment she stepped inside, Bea practically glued herself to her, staying at her side at all times. Of course, no one knew about them, except for Sirius and, as Bea had only recently learned, Harry, whom Hermione had apparently told.
