The year my sister Andromeda ran off with a muggle born, we moved back to England. My parents were dreadfully ashamed of her, and felt that pulling us out of Durmstrang might ease their nerves. Mother and Father placed in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Bella, your cousin Regulus attends there, remember?" Mother had said, patting my dark hair kindly.
"Does his older brother attend as well?" I asked eagerly, fondly remembering my older cousin, the dashing, humorous, Sirius Black. He had always made family gatherings entertaining, with his stories of the house-elf ghosts that haunted the upstairs rooms of 12 Grimmauld Place.
My mother's face darkened at the mention of his name.
"He is no longer part of the family," she replied stonily. "We do not speak his name." I asked my father, whom also became stern and formidable at the reference to my favorite cousin.
"He was sorted into Gryffindor," Father said in a hushed tone, dark eyebrows furrowed in anger at the mere thought. "And your aunt told us that he consorts with half-breeds and mudbloods. You had better hold your family's name up, unlike that scum."
Naturally, I was quite ashamed of Sirius. Cavorting around with mudbloods. It besmirched the Black family's name.
When we arrived at Hogwarts on the first day of school in September, Sirius was there with his friends. He waved at the sight of Narcissa and I, but we ignored him. I was placed in the sixth year, Narcissa in the fourth. We were both sorted into the Slytherin house, making our mother and father proud.
I saw little of Sirius, only the occasional class. We were the same age, and when we had double potions, or whatever, I ignored his greetings and smiles. He was not worthy of my attention, nor my sympathy.
I made friends quickly among the Slytherins. Lucius Malfoy, who was a year older than me, expressed interest in courting Narcissa. I swiftly sent an owl to Mother and Father, whom agreed to it immediately. Malfoy was a wealthy, handsome, pureblood. A perfect match. They wrote saying,
Bella dearest, you must find a moneyed man whom shares your interests and can trace his lineage.
Indeed. Blood was more important than personality. That had been drilled into me since before I had the ability to speak. It didn't matter that Lucius could be cruel and malicious, we all were, what mattered was his money and his ancestry.
I was walking out by the lake, thinking about Rodolphus Lestrange. He had shown obvious liking for Narcissa, yet she was now betrothed to Lucius Malfoy. So, Rodolphus had begun court me, sending flowers, expensive jewelry, etc. Rodolphus was handsome, rich, and most importantly a pureblood. The Lestranges could trace their bloodline to before the famous Salazar Slytherin. The family had no embarrassing marks on their records, or at least no one remembered them. He was perfect, yet not. I did not love him, and this bothered me intensely. I saw him more of a brother. I could not imagine marrying him.
I sat down on the lake beach, sifting rocks through my fingers. The lake sparkled in the setting sun, reflecting the light from the heavens. It seemed too perfect for reality. The truth was bitter and ugly, and I did not like it.
Suddenly, I heard a padding of footsteps behind me. I whipped around, wand out of pocket. It was Sirius, his black shaggy hair fluttering in the faint wind.
"Go away," I said coldly.
"Why do you hate me so much?" he asked, his dark eyes flashing.
"You betrayed us," I whispered, so convinced in what I was saying.
"Betrayed you? How?"
"Being sorted into Gryffindor! And being friends with that stupid mud-blood Lily Evans!"
"So, you're blaming me for being sorted into Gryffindor? And, you blame me for being kind and nice to people?"
"Yeah, stupid! You're a Black! The Blacks are supposed to stick together!"
"Who says?"
"Everyone does. It's in your blood."
"God damn it!" he exploded. I recoiled. "Blood this, blood that! I'm so sick of it! What does blood have to do with anything?"
"Blood gives you life!" I screamed in retaliation.
"Then take mine away! I'd rather die than be known as a blood-loving Black!" he hissed. I froze.
"Sirius, don't say that!" I burst out.
"Why not?"
"Just don't!" I cried, standing angrily. "You're such an idiot, Sirius!"
"At least I'm not delusional about what's important in life," he spat. I slapped him with all my might, my palm stinging. He laughed, a red mark rising on his pale cheek.
"Bella, do you think hitting me will solve all your problems?" he asked. I screamed in anger.
"How can you do this? I thought you loved us!"
"I love you Bella, but not them. I thought you were the only one in the family whom I could trust. You understood me," he said, slightly wistful.
"Sirius, you can still trust me!" I cried. "You just need to understand that they're different from us."
"How? How?" he said. "How are they different?" I faltered. "See Bella, you can't come up with an answer. They're no different from you and I."
"Sirius, I cannot give up on what my family has believed in for centuries."
Suddenly, Sirius leaned in, and kissed me on the mouth. It was like everything I had craved and wanted from Rodolphus, but what he could never give me. It was beauty with a slight edge to it, and I wanted more of it.
"Bella, you can give it all up," he whispered, his warm breath on my face. I wanted to kiss him again and again, but pulled back.
"Sirius," I begged. "Don't make me choose."
"Why?"
"You know what I will pick."
"A life of pain and hatred? Is that what you want? You want to be married to that stupid Rodolphus Lestrange for the rest of your life?"
"No, but Sirius, I'm not like you! I don't have the strength to give it all up," I cried, turning away, tears falling down my cheeks.
"Bella, you can do it, I know you can. The moment I met you, I knew you were strong enough to get what you wanted."
"I want my children to have a family, Sirius, I don't want to be an outcast."
"When the Dark Lord is vanquished Bella, you and the rest of the Blacks will be dead or in Azkaban," he said solemnly.
"No, they won't be!" I shrieked, shoulder shaking.
"Bella, face the truth," he said, reaching for my hand. I pulled away, but looked over my shoulder at his stricken face.
"Sirius, I love you more than I could any other person, but I cannot give it all away," I whispered. He nodded, his eyes filling with tears. He stroked my cheek one last time, turned away, and left. I sank onto my knees, shaking violently. There was no going back now.
When I saw Sirius in Azkaban, I hated myself for not joining him when I could have. But it was too late. If I had really wanted that life, I would have had to take it when I was 16 years old. When he escaped, I was upset that he did not take me with him, but understood.
When I killed him, I hated Lord Voldemort, and I mostly hated myself. I masked my true emotions well, hiding from those who claimed they cared for me, knowing that I'd killed the only person whom I truly had loved.
Sirius, wherever you are, please forgive me for everything.
I still love you.