She wanted to go to the Ministry. She wanted to torture, she wanted to kill. Killing and murder was fun. Blood was beautiful. Torture was fun. The idea of destroying a life excited her; it made her feel powerful. Sometimes, Bellatrix wondered if she was brave. She wasn't sure she wanted to be "brave" most of the time, because courage was the Gryffindor virtue. She supposed, however, that she was brave, if she had to pick one "good" virtue. Or maybe she wasn't. Was standing up for someone she loved brave? Was going through Azkaban brave? Was returning now to fight her love's enemy... Brave?
He certainly wasn't brave.
Bellatrix hates him. Her master. How could he not see how much she loves and admires him? He is her all, her life, her everything. She tried to kill herself before, and that was one of the times she knew that she wasn't "brave". She couldn't slit her wrists. She knows she is an empty shell. She only lives to kill, and torture, and to be used. Bellatrix knows she is little more than a weapon. That's all her "love" sees her as. Something to be used, something powerful, but just a possession. Voldemort doesn't love. Voldemort doesn't have friends. Voldemort has possessions. And she is his prize possession.
Bellatrix feels, sometimes, that she is just an object. She knows she is beautiful, and she doesn't care. Objects are beautiful, are they not? Sometimes, she feels like an empty beach shell. Beautiful on the outside, but empty and dry on the inside. She kills and tortures to try and make herself feel something that's not madness. She likes to feel exhilarated, and happy, because the adrenalin of fighting makes her forget that she is mad and that nobody loves her. It makes her know that she is strong, and powerful, and that she could defeat anyone.
She went to the ministry to have that feeling of control. She did not go to the ministry to kill Sirius. No, she duelled him. She gets animalistic when she fights, when her wand slashes it is without control. She barely knew what she was doing as she fired killing spells at him, her baby cousin whom she once loved and adored. She gets her mind back as a killing curse flies within an inch of his beautiful, thick, curly hair, and hits a wall, making it crumble into dust. It is then when she realises that he is Little Siri, her old favourite cousin. It is then that she tries to take him out of the battle, to stun him, to make sure that he doesn't get hurt... She hasn't felt love for anyone but herself for so long. Not fanatical love, as she feels for Voldemort, but true love, true feeling in her heart. She rejoices in that moment, as her cold, ice heart starts to beat again... It couldn't last.
As she remembers that day, she thinks of it bitterly. She knew that she, Bellatrix Lestrange, could not feel anything good and happy for long. It was God's punishment upon her. God would not let her feel love, in revenge for the many time she scorned love and the happiness only love could deal.
It was too late, she knew, when the stunning spell hit Sirius and blasted him backwards. He'd been laughing; she remembered that, as he fell back. He'd been taunting her, and telling her how pathetic she was. That'd made her angry. In fact, it was a kind of relief as well as a tearing pain as he fell backwards into the veil of death. As it enveloped him, she screamed; out of ecstasy or grief she could not fathom. And she could hear another scream intermingled with hers: the Potter boy was screaming too, in rage and immense sadness. She ran then, ran for her very life up the marble stairs. She could hear shrieks of fury and curses being thrown at her, but she did not stop until she'd skidded into a lift. She pounded the button hard, and she saw Harry Potter running into view just as the doors shut...
Bellatrix was in a sort of daze then. She was laughing, hysterical, and she knew she must have looked completely insane at that moment. Somehow, she didn't even care. The warm hand of dementia held her again, and when she exited the lift, she skipped like a child towards the exit, screaming at the top of her lungs: "I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!" The heard Potter running after her, and let out a laugh that echoed around the atrium. She would play with him, she thought in her insane brain. She stopped, and began to tease him.
She remembered the look on his face as she verbally tortured him, reminded him of all these things, and taught him how to use an unforgivable spell... She loved corrupting the boy who lived; she could see the murder in his green eyes, and the bloodlust. It was fun to do this to him, and she knew that soon he would try to strike, and she would destroy him...
But no, it was not to be.
Reviews appreciated, but I have a few more chapters coming up, documenting Bellatrix's madness and some moments from the books and films showing that the most. Don't worry, more is coming...