Staring out across the battlefield with blood-shot, crazed eyes marred by insanity, she let a smirk play on her face as she screeched
"Avada Kedavra!"
And saw for a split second, the beautiful green light flash, like the fireworks she once watched, a long time ago.
Bellatrix Lestrange hadn't always been mad. She'd started out as every other child had. A baby. Born with the purity and innocence that everyone had, the second they were brought into the world. But it was the choices of the people who raised her which led her down a different road than most took; a darker, sinister one.
She grew up with her three sisters, with whom she was always compared to. Narcissa was easily the prettiest one, the most submissive and obedient child. Andromeda was fiery, full of heart and passion, but that was beaten out of her. However, Bellatrix possessed something neither sisters had, nor wanted; the intelligence and cunning that could be compared to that of Salazar Slytherin himself.
The three were very different, but they got on as well as anyone in that situation could. And that was good enough for them. Their lives were always centred around their family, and their superiority, their supremacy.
Everything had already been planned for them. Their schooling, their careers, their marriages, their families. All taken care of. None of them had a choice, and at the time, that had suited them fine.
Bellatrix couldn't remember when she had first been introduced to blood purity. It had been such a integral part of her life for so long, she forgot it was even introduced to her. Almost as if every child grew up knowing that all mudbloods were scum, unworthy of the magic they possessed, and that bloodtraitors were just as bad, if not worse, for their betrayal.
Her early life and childhood was not very eventful; her sisters did not care for her, nor did her parents, and the only time they ever interacted with her was when scolded her for acting in a manner which was not becoming of a young lady Black. She progressed through her life with much emptiness, and things only became interesting after she had graduated...
Her arranged marriage was confirmed. Had been since before she had turned three. She would be marrying Rodolphus Lestrange next month. While her mother was planning the wedding, Bellatrix was contemplating what to do with her life.
She decided she wanted excitement. She wanted danger. She wanted dark. Because if there was anything more intriguing or exciting, she hadn't heard about it. Her life had been so plain, so boring, with barely a thought flitting through her intelligent mind during her repetitive and monotonous life. She felt as if she had lived for ages. Time passed slowly when nothing ever happened.
And Bellatrix Lestrange was beginning to go mad.
It all began from that tiny seed that had embedded itself inside her mind. In her core being. But she hadn't registered its presence. Little did they know that that tiny little seed would cause much devastation in the future.
And then it began to grow.
She'd joined the Death Eaters, wanting to make a difference in the world which was currently polluted, tarnished, imperfect. She'd become obsessed, possessed, engulfed by the power she was being given, the knowledge, that she had been trusted to hold. The knowledge of the influence she had on people, the things she could do to them, the things they would do for her.
Before she knew what was going on, Bellatrix had become black, black like her maiden name. Black.
Bellatrix had never been so pumped in her life. She had power. But it was addictive. She wanted more. But it was never enough...there was always that unquenchable thirst that would never be fulfilled.
By then people had noticed. She had become withdrawn, twisted, sinister.
And then it began to flourish.
Bellatrix had climbed her way up the ranks, proving her endless loyalty to the man who had given her a taste of something more. She was now a true follower.
She spent her days plotting, cackling to herself, shaking with the remembrance of what it felt like to have an Unforgivable shoot forth from the wand; the one Olivander had given her on that day when she was eleven years old, and wanted nothing more than to be able to ride a broom like the boys.
Thoughts of her childhood flashed through her mind, and one in particular kept popping up...
"Mother, will we be there soon?"
"Bellatrix, you should not interrupt when I am speaking to your father."
"But I am bored, mother."
Her mother was now deaf to her complaints. They continued walking, and Bellatrix was becoming exceptionally bored when she suddenly saw sparks and flashes of rainbow colours in the sky.
"Mother! Look – what is that?"
Her mother looked at her daughter, then at the sky just above a nearby forest. Ah. Those ridiculous muggle lights which were constantly confusing the Death Eaters with their signals. Fireworks, they called them.
"A silly muggle creation. Do not bother me further."
Bellatrix gazed in awe, with her eyes lighting up with the reflections of a beautiful display of colours contrasting with that dark, endless sky.
Bellatrix forever had that memory buried in her mind. But she chose to ignore it – what were silly rememberings of her childhood when she had a whole world to conquer? She began to smile.
Her family and so called friends began to fear for her. Or rather, fear her. She was now nothing like the quiet girl who married Rodolphus Lestrange, replaced by a dark woman who often shook and cackled to herself at night, muttering things like "mudbloods, scum, those unworthy..."
She had become a monster. But now Bellatrix didn't care.
Her whole life she had tried to live up to her parents expectations. But she was ignored. She had suffered, but kept silent, and dealt with her problems herself. She had spent her whole life living for someone else. But not anymore.
She no longer cared. All she cared about was power, supremacy, and the Dark Lord, who would lead the way. She didn't care if people thought her mad. She didn't care if people watched when she had one of her bouts of madness. If being crazy meant that she could openly do anything she wanted without being judged (or at least care) then she would happily accept insanity. She would rather live in a blurry world where she just didn't care. About anything. It was better than living a sane life where everything had to make sense. Where everything had to have a reason. She just didn't want to think, want to feel, want to care anymore.
Staring out across the battlefield with blood-shot, crazed eyes marred by insanity, she let a smirk play on her face as she screeched
"Avada Kedavra!"
And saw for a split second, the beautiful green light flash, like the fireworks she once watched, a long time ago.