Welcome everyone to my very first story Black Madness. There will be some canon moments but most of it is strictly the result of my own twisted imagination set in the fun world of Harry Potter that JKR so kindly gifted us. There will be sex and violence but most of it will be suggested or referenced rather than actually described. This is a fem/fem story so if that kind of thing offends the please stop now. I have no idea how far I will go with this idea but I have a few chapters written and will edit and upload them over the next few days and gauge the response. Also as this my first attempt at writing anything I would appreciate kind or constructive reviews as they encourage me to continue and help me improve.
I must give a nod to all those fanfic authors who inspired me to do this (special mentions to Nemesis13, SilentlyWatches and Philosophise) if you see any ideas recycled it is not intentional. Consider it a compliment to your genius.
Dylan the Rabbit. xx
BLACK MADNESS
CHAPTER 1.
Broadwhich Secure Psychiatric Unit, Surrey. 21st December 1994.
Dr Fordham looked at the small pile of folders on his desk and sighed, he hated this time on a Thursday, a long way into the week and yet not close enough to the weekend to count. Of course it was also time for his weekly evaluation of his least favourite patient and also one of the very few he would regard as an actual inmate. Sighing heavilly again he reluctantly picked up the folder and stared at it; Alicia Weston. He wondered again how simply reading her name could make him want to remove his brain and scrub it with a scouring pad before replacing it with that of someone who had never met her. 09.22. The clock on his desk ticked relentlessly on. She was never late. Ever. It was almost as if she knew that he hated these sessions. That they haunted his dreams. That she scared him witless.
At 43 Dr Jamie Fordham was one of the youngest and most respected specialists in his field of Criminal Psychiatry, he had felt awed and honoured to have been given the job as Head of Psychiatric disorders here at the Broadwhich Secure Unit, and yet that feeling had disappeared very quickly. Alicia Weston. Such a pretty name. Such a pretty girl. Hair so black that it almost shone blue falling in long wavy curls down to the middle of her back, a delicate heart shaped face blessed with fair complexion and porcelain skin. Beautifull, classic, stunnung. But the eyes, those extroadinary eyes, large and expressive and... wrong. One violet. one hazel. both insane. At first he had tried, really tried, not only to understand her but also to help her towards an acceptance of her condition and a possible cure, as was his desire with all of his patients but after a mere two sessions he knew he was far out of his depth.
Alicia Weston functioned perfectly normally most of the time, she was a beautifull, intelligent, sweet natured young woman with lovely manners who held herself with a cool serenity. But as the good doctor had found out rather quickly that was just a veneer. Below the surface there lurked a monster. Alicia may have been serene but Alice was most definitely not. Alice was her alter-ego; a raging, giggling, fun loving, murderous psychopath. And Alice loved being let out to 'play'. It was strange the things that could set her off. Moments of high stress, of course. Someone being a danger to her, naturally. Other girls being treated poorly, well okay, given her treatment at he hands of her adoptive parents that one was sort of understandable. But Rudeness? being impolte? now that was a trigger he simply didn't understand. Some days as simple a thing as not covering one's mouth when coughing could set her off on others you could call her a fucking bitch to her face and she would simply ignore it. Except, he knew, it wouldn't be ignored, it wouldn't be forgotten, it wouldn't be forgiven and it would always be avenged. Even before he had arrived he had heard the rumours of the 'cursed' Broadwhich unit, too many staff members with virulent diseases, too many inmates with unexplained deaths, too many doctors driven to the edge of madness themselves. That is why he was always so carefull around her, always so polite, always so bloody scared.
09.30.
"Good moring Doctor I hope the day is treating you well so far?"
And here she is. Alicia Weston; Schitzophrenic. Sociopath. Murderer. Dangerous Fucking Nutter.
"Good morning Miss Weston and thank-you yes it is. Shall we begin?"
12 Grimmuald Place, London. 21st Decemer 1979.
Sirius Black was a very lucky dog, this he knew with absolute certainty as he gazed upon his lovely wife Bellatrix and their amazing new daughter asleep in her arms. Alicia Morgana Black. She was perfect. His mother Wallburgia had checked her very carefully, eight fingers, two thumbs, ten tiny toes, one nose, two glorious violet eyes and no glaring physical abnormalities. A grandparents delight. One couldn't be too carefull he and Bella were, after all, first cousins and while not outrageous it was still a little unconventional even among old families like his. But then the name Black was almost synonomous with the word unconventional. It was a beautifull moment in an ugly war and he knew it would soon be time to once again take up arms, their Dark Lord was not a patient man. It had surprised him somewhat that he had been allowed even these moments with his new family but as Voldemort had said, we should take care of these our new born purebloods for they must carry on our work when we are gone. As if the thought were a needle it pricked him to carry the news to his Lord that a new member of the ever loyal House of Black had arrived.
Longbotttom Manor. 31st October 1981.
Their Dark Lord was gone. Defeated by a child. Sirius felt his legendary temper start to build and he let it come, let it consume him. He glanced over at his wife and saw her boucing on the balls of her feet the madness and the rage evident in her strange violet eyes. She leaned over and kissed him fiercely and spat out one word. Vengence.
Black Manor, Suffolk 12th November 1981.
It was a cruel, cold night for a cruel, cold task. As Remus Lupin padded through the home of his former friend and recent enemy he felt sick at what he had been ordered to do tonight for 'The Greater Good'. The mad dog and his insane bitch were both in Azkaban with life sentences what 'Good' would this do? Lupin arrived at the nursery swallowed the bile rising to his throat and entered only to be confronted by a silent toddler looking up at him with large violet eyes and a huge grin on her little face. He knew then that he could not do it, he could not just kill this child because she MIGHT be a danger ONE day. Albus MUST be wrong. Making his decision he carefully wrapped the girl in a thick comforter and apparated straight to St Jude's Orphanage.
St Jude's Orphanage, Woking, Surrey. 12th November 1981.
When the three adults opened the front door to find a heavilly wrapped little girl on the steps they each had differing thoughts. Father Trent thought only to help to the small being who had been dumped in the middle of winter, to warm her, care for her and to love her. Peter Weston simply looked into his wife's hazel coloured eyes and thought; "Finally, our very own little house slave."
17 Forest Close, Woking, Surrey. 8th January 1987.
Peter Weston was not having a good day, his wife was being stroppy again, his boss had belittled him in front of his co-workers and then he had found a scorch mark from an iron on the front of his favourite pastel shirt. He was furious and someone was going to pay. "BRAT ! Daddy is very angry!"
When Alicia finally came to the next morning she didn't undersand why she couldn't focus. The pain in her small body was nothing new, she had taken many 'punishments' over the years but this thing focusing thing was new and frankly quite worrying as her eyesight had always been good. So good in fact that it kept her out of a lot of trouble, noticing lint on daddy's jacket or a speck of grease on the kitchen floor before she could get a beating for it but now she could barely see. This was weird. This was trouble. As she was dragging her injured body to the bathroom she caught a sight of herself in the hallway mirror and stopped dead. Now she knew what was wrong with her eyesight. Daddy had taken her left eye leaving her with a bloody gaping hole in her face where it used to be. BASTARD. For the first time in her short life Alicia felt her heritage coming for her, not that she knew it of course, but still it came. The RAGE. It built... and built...and built... and then with an almost audible crack she snapped.
The little girl stormed through the house screaming her rage for all to hear, her feet not actually touching the ground as she swooped and cried and raged before acknowledging her new seemingly flying situation with a simple "Woah cool" before looking back to her newly arrived adoptive parents with a vicious grin. A single thought later one of June Weston's best carving knives flew from the kitchen straight into her waiting right hand soon to be be joined in her left by a dessert spoon. "What's the spoon for?" said Peter. Alicia just grinned wider, then cackled then started laughing maniacally.
Back at the hallway mirror Alicia Weston was admiring her appearance. Her sleek black hair was wet, her simple white shift was now almost entirely red but her favourite thing about herself was her pretty new hazel left eye. It didn't give her much pause how she had reattached it, she just asked it to and hey presto it was. Like magic. Perhaps the visitors who had just broken down the front door would know how she did it, she'd have to ask. "Police is a funny name. Why do have it written on your jacket?" Alicia asked as the young man looked at the carnage before him and promptly threw up his breakfast on the hallway floor. "Well that was rude" she thought.
Good? Bad? Leave your thoughts. Dylan the Rabbit. xx
