The Story Of The Pureblood Princess

How it all started

How it all started was pretty much the day I was born. Which was ironically the day Black was born. He couldn't  even let me have one tiny thing for myself. Our mothers have carefully decided that this coincidence was a sign from the ancient gods and that Black and I were destined to start our lives together, and as a result we were betrothed.
Of course, Mother and Mrs Black were very good friends. So naturally, Black and I were raised together.
Our relationship (if we can call it that) was not normal for our age. Whereas other children would fool around and be silly, I would do anything in my power to prove that I'm in fact superior to him. And vice versa.
I remember once writing a fake essay about my ancestry to prove that the Lestranges are direct descendants of the first witch ever. Or the time Black spending the whole summer learning how to dance so that he can rub his talent in my face.
It was a constant competition but in some way, I felt comfortable with him. Just the knowledge that he's here somewhere brings me a sense of safety and security. When other kids used to mock me about my weight, Black would prank them and humiliate them in front of the whole pureblood families. And when his mother would lock him upstairs as a punishment, I would sneakily bring him some food and water.
Our relationship was one of a kind. Because neither of us would ever dare of calling the other by his first name, or showing emotion in front of the other, but we know deep down that we care for and understand each other.
That was until we went to Hogwarts and everything started changing.
I woke up early and got dressed in a silk uniform that Mother has bought for me. It was tight in the thigh area and I'd bet you the whole Lestrange fortune that Mother was too ashamed to ask for a size bigger than average. Family reputation and all that.
Sighing, I let down my dark curls and  walkd downstairs. The rest of my family were having breakfast: eggs, bacon and my favourite cherry pie.
I gulp resisting the urge to take a slice and savour it in my mouth. I haven't had a meal for two days and I was starving. But Mother didn't  notice, in fact she complimented me for working on my resolutions. Feeling satisfied for making Mother even a bit proud. Liam, my brother who is three years older than me, glances at me worriedly and I ignore him.
The side apparition makes me nauseous, but I mask it gracefully walking next to Mother towards the Blacks. I kiss Mrs Black's cheeks and shake her husband's hand all the while complimenting the both of them. Black rolls his eyes and kisses the back of my hand. I roll my eyes back and give my hand for his younger brother Regulus to kiss. The train is about to leave so Black and I hurry to the corridor trying to find an empty compartment. Unfortunately, we're  too late and the git says it's  my fault for taking too long to dress up. I sarcastically tell him that not everyone can roll out of bed and still look handsome. He smirks taking it as a compliment and I groan annoyed then open the door to the nearest compartment. Inside there were two boys and a redhead.
One of them I recognised as James Potter, the son of the blood traitor.
I sit down without asking for permission, immediately starting to think about my future years at Hogwarts. I think about the sorting, about the mudbloods, about the castle, about the lessons when I finally hear something that gets my attention.
‘My whole family have been in Slytherin,’ Black said and I thought I heard shame in his voice.
‘Blimey,’ said James, ‘and I thought you seemed all right!’
Sirius grinned although his eyes were still coated with the usual darkness.
‘Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?’
Potter lifted an invisible sword.
‘“Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!” Like my dad.’
"The house of blood traitors and mudbloods" I say with disgust
"Mudblood?" The redhead asks curiously
"Tell her Potter" I urge him with an evil smirk. "What does it mean?"
"It's  an insult" he growls glaring daggers at me. "That ignorants use against muggleborns"
"Tell me Lestrange" he says mockingly.  "What does it feel like being the pig of the Lestrange house?"
I stand up about to leave the compartment.
"Black?" I ask voice colder than ever.
"Yes?" He repeats uncertainly.
"Aren't  you going to come?"
He looks at Potter then looks back at me and I nod.
I run to the trolley lady and buy a bunch of chocolate frogs that I eat while planning Black's murder.
The sight of the castle made me forget anything about that git and I sat in the boat silently admiring the marvellous scene.
The sorting hat was the weirdest hat I'd ever seen. The old lady put it on my head and I resisted the urge to throw it on the floor and clean my hair. But I didn't  want to be called a freak so I sat there looking emotionless.
Hmm A lestrange. I see. I see. You're  a clever girl. Cunning. Sneaky. Self absorbed. You have a lot to come. I see dreams of greatness. It surely will be achieved. But you know your weakness... Hmm. Yes. There's only one place for you . Better be
Slytherin
I stand up proudly pushing the old hat into the old woman's  hands. I walk to my table that erupted in cheers and I sit down next to Pamela Parkinson a girl I've  met before.
Oh I forgot to mention. Black was sorted in Gryffindor. Why am I not freaking out about it? Because I've  been trying to not think  about it all.
But I can't  resist it anymore.
I can still hear the hat shouting Gryffindor and the whole room freeze. Balck looks at me and I didn't  even hide my shock. I was gaping at him, mouth wide open. Just like everyone else.
I could not believe it. Black. Gryffindor. Those were opposites. It's  like saying: life and death, love and hate, mind and heart bit with him opposites seemed to make sense. Because somehow I now see it clearly. Black standing up for me. Black hating rules. Black not giving a damn about blood purity. I should have seen it before. And so I slowly start clapping. Feeling bitter and hurt. I clap because he fooled me. And everyone claps with me.
After dinner, I walk over to Black but Potter drags him to their common  room before I could reach him.
"Aren't you coming?" Parkinson asks and I follow her with a grateful smile.
Tomorrow morning, I had my first potions class with Gryffindor.
So I naturally save a seat dor Black like I always did in our latin classes tha we had while we were younger but he avoids me and sits with Potter.
I was hurt and I couldn't even focus while Slughorn went on and on about potion making.
Weren't Black and I "les inséparables" or was it just because he had no choice but to befriend me?
After potions, I had Herbology with the badgers and then flying lessons witb Gryffindors again.
When I saw the brooms, I remembered last summer when Mr Black bought the latest Nimbus for his sons and Sirius taught me how to mount it. I did it and I floated a little bit then I got higher and higher. Then I lost control and fell on my face. I moaned in pain. Damn those Lestrange genes, it's a family thing really. No respectable Lestarnge was ever athletic. Black gently helped me stand up and I tried flying but fell again. Until I suddenly didn't fall anymore.
Today, however, Black was on the other end of the pitch, chatting with Potter.  He seemed to like him so much, he was laughing a heartfelt laugh, his eyes gleaming with joy. Some girls were looking at him. And I felt my blood boil. I was supposed to be the beautiful Lestrange. It's offensive for a Black to be reckless, a Malfoy to be modest, a Rosier to be poor and a Lestrange to be ugly. I was unfortunately the exception to the rule. Whenever I looked in the mirror I only saw a disgrace. A fat pig.
"You're not fat" Parkinson whispered to my ear as we were walking back to the common room.
I laugh bitterly and mention to my body.
"You really aren't. It's just because we are young. Just wait for puberty, the fat will go to the right places and those who used to mock you will be jealous of you" she promised hugging me and I wondered whys he weren't sorted to Hufflepuff.
That evening I received a letter from my Mother which read:
Dearest Lena,
I have expected you to write me as soon as you reach Hogwarts but you obviously didn't.
I understand though. It was quite a shock for me too, hearing about Sirius. The poor Walburga is still in denial. How her bright boy was taken from her by the blood traitors. She even sent a letter to Dumbledore asking for him to repeat the sorting. There must have been a mistake.
Have you talked to him? Walburga believes that you are her only hope in getting her son back under control.
I have been told that you have made a friend of the Parkinson girl. That's some good news. Her father is the head of the department of mysteries in the ministry of magic and her mother used to be one of the best healers in St Mungo's. Anyway, I expect to hear from you soon.
Yours truly,
Lita Lestrange.
I sigh and stand up towards the Gryffindor table. Some people curiously look at me and I keep on walking not bothering to give an explanation.
"Black" I say as I reach hsi level.
No answer so I softly put my hand on his shoulder and call him again. No answer. I dug my nails into his skin and he yelps in pain then stands up and follows me out of the great hall.
"Now that you have acknowledged my presence, care to explain?" I demanded crossing my arms over my chest.
"I'm a Gryffindor" he answers with a shrug of his shoulders and I raise my eyebrows urging him to explain further. "I've always known that I don't belong in Slytherin. I just know it. And it happened. Now I'm not a Black anymore. For them, I'm a blood traitor. And soon enough, she'll disown me. I just know it"
"No." I answer coldly. " You like your family and would have given anything to be a proper Black. But you're not. So you convinced yourself that you're unique, you're a rebel. That they don't care about you. You're the victim. The exception to the rule. But you need to face the facts. Your mother has been crying for a whole week sending you letters and receiving no answers. Your brother sent me a letter asking for me to tell you that you will always be his brother. Your father is alive and loves you. But you don't even make an effort. "
"So what do you want me to do?" He inquires angrily.
"I want you to choose whether to be brave and send a letter to your poor mother or be a coward and wait until the holidays."
He looks at me for too long then walks away without an answer. But I knew that silence for him is the greatest answer.
That year, I had embraced the fact that Black and I were no longer friends, we haven't even talked since that argument. And I appreciated that. Because I focused more on my studies and on my slytherin life. I made a lit of friends but the one I liked most is Parkinson. She's such a contrast to Black's dark aura.
But soon enough, it was summer break and all of is went back to our houses. Parkinson promised to stay in touch and I  promised to write her a letter as soon as I reach the Lestrange estate.
That summer everything in my life started changing. I don't know if it's for the better or the worse.
First, as soon as I celebrated my 12th birthday, I hit puberty. I started noticing changes. My voice got more feminine, my breasts larger and perkier, my thighs were no longer huge but curvy in an attractive manner and I grew a few inches taller.
It was then that I met Black for the first time that summer. And I couldn't help but smirk as I saw him staring at my body. I was taller than him now so I would occasionally stand next to him, or help him pick up something off a shelf, even pat him on his head in a belittling manner, and inviting him to dance just to embarrass him.
All in all, this summer was the greatest summer I ever had and I was ready to go back to school and show what mother nature has given me.