A/N: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise, and no copyright infringement was intended.

'A criminal,' they whispered fearfully, not daring to look her in the eye. 'A princess,' others smiled, looking fondly at her frilly pink dress. But Bellatrix Black (not Lestrange, never Lestrange) always thought of herself as fire.

Even as a young child, she had always been the liveliest, the one with the craziest ideas. She had always been the unofficial leader of their little group of five, burning brightly, full of energy and enthusiasm. Every time she visited her cousins' home, she would longingly stare at the tapestry on the wall, hoping beyond hope to burn as brightly as the rest of her family once had.

Bella was fire. Sirius, her little cousin, would sometimes threaten to outshine her, but he was so small at the time that she hadn't been too worried.

In their little group of five, Bella had always gotten on with Sirius the best. They used to be able to talk for hours at a time. She could to talk to him about anything - the spells she had picked up from the library, what Narcissa had painted her the night before, and what her parents were coldly ignoring each other about this time.

Both of them had a little bit of that Black rashness, that slight craziness; they always did need a new rush, new thrills of excitement. And though he might have been a few years younger, they understood each other. Perhaps it was because they were so similar, but perhaps because they were so different.

When that changed a few years later, something inside her died.

"Gryffindor, Sirius?" she hissed angrily, pulling him aside. "What were you thinking?"

"I- I don't know what happened," Sirius said. "The hat just refused to put me in Slytherin, he told me I wouldn't fit there..." He suddenly looked lost and lonely, but Bella refused to soften.

"'Won't fit there?' Rubbish!" Suddenly, she was shouting. "You'll pay for this, you know! Auntie ought to send you a Howler for what you've done! I imagine they won't even speak to you when you come home for Christmas! Honestly, Sirius! Can't you see? You've shamed the whole family!"

"I really am sorry, you know," he mumbled again, looking at the floor.

"Yes, well, nothing to be done about that now, is there?" Bella sighed. "I worry about you, you know. I won't be here next year to look out for you. Can you not just settle down and be respectable for once? In the few days you've been here, you and your new friends have already gotten a detention! What are you doing, hanging around them, anyway? I mean, Potter may be alright, but the Pettigrews are hardly an old family! And you do know that the Lupin boy is a half-blood, right?"

"Don't you dare insult my friends! What do they even have to do with this? Anyway, what right do have to reprimand me? You are not my mother!" Sirius suddenly looked angry again, glaring at her with all his eleven-year-old defiance. However, she couldn't help but notice that he was still not able to shake his pureblood upbringing and proper way of speaking.

Bella was lost for words. She couldn't pretend that the comment didn't hurt. Her little cousin was drifting away from her and she just couldn't figure out how to get him back.

Here she was, trying her best to help him - she didn't have to! If he wanted to ruin his reputation forever, let him! Who was she to stop him killing himself, anyway?

"Fine!" she said. The word helped her gain some of her strength back. "Fine! But don't come crying to me when you're left with no one!"

With that, she spun on her heel and left, trying and failing to stop the tears in her eyes.

Even as a small child, Bella had been fire. As she got older, that fire inside her had burnt even brighter. She had been sorted into Slytherin, been the best of her year, had succeeded in all her classes, had acquired a lot of friends in school. She had always had the best ideas for pranks to pull on their parents, new passages to discover at Hogwarts.

At Hogwarts, her younger sister Andy had become her closest confidant. She didn't like to use the word friend anymore. Only her sister had been able to calm her down and bring her back to earth. In Slytherin, alliances were suddenly so much more important, and the Black name meant something here. Everyone knew the Black Sisters, with their heads held high and cold stares at anyone who crossed their path. A year younger than her, Andy was much more organised, more polite, more charming... more rational. When Andy had gone, betraying the family, Bella lost that last bit of rationality. With her sister gone, something in that fire had burnt out too, never to return.

"I'm going to tell them tomorrow, you know," a soft voice interrupted her reading. Bellatrix looked up coldly.

"I'm going to tell them about Ted." Andromeda sounded determined, her face hidden by the evening shadows. She and the mudblood Ted had been dating for almost a year, and Andromeda had told Bella (sworn to secrecy, obviously, she thought derisively) about it after her older sister's graduation ceremony.

Bella hadn't spoken to her little sister since. Of course, everyone fooled around a bit at Hogwarts, so far away from their strict homes with the freedom to do what they liked, Bella included, but she had had the decency to be a little discreet! She had come home to her fiance, Rodolphus, and done her duty to the family. Andromeda, however...

"He proposed!" Andromeda tried again. "Can't you see? At least I'll be happy, even without you and Cissy and Mother and Father! Please say you'll be glad, for my sake?" she looked strangely vulnerable, but Bella - no, Bellatrix couldn't let herself forgive her sister.

Without a word in response, she closed her book, stood up and walked upstairs, leaving Andromeda to stare after her, looking strangely small and lost.

Bellatrix was fire. With her cousin gone, her sister gone, her father gone, and an arranged marriage she hadn't had time to escape, she turned to the last option she had left: The Cause. Now she burned brighter than before, destructively this time, obsessing over mudbloods and the Dark Lord and power and Avada Kedavra. Nothing could compare to the rush of excitement of that bright green light, killing mercilessly. Nothing could compare to the rush of power she felt using Crucio, the piercing screams of her victims, always balancing dangerously close to the edge, always painfully aware of the danger (and the temptation) of falling.

With the Dark Lord's defeat on that freezing November night, while wizards all around Britain were celebrating the "Boy-who-Lived", Bellatrix finally lost her balance, lost everything she had left, and fell.

Those long, endless years in Azkaban killed her all over again.

In direct contrast to her brooding, silent, innocent cousin across the hall, Bellatrix screamed, the last, dying embers inside her diminishing with her.

Bellatrix Black might have been fire, but darling, don't you know? Even the brightest of fires must burn out sometime.

A/N: So, this was my first attempt at a Harry Potter story. If you liked it, and even if you didn't (constructive criticism is always helpful), please take 30 seconds out of your time to review! I will be eternally grateful! :)

Edit: 16/10/15