Dancing bears,

Painted wings.

Things I almost remember.

And a song,

Someone sings.

Once upon a December.

The door of the cell slammed and was instantly binded shut by a thick, glowing vine. Bellatrix looked around the dingy cell with a smug smile on her face. She wanted to be here. The Dark Lord would be so pleased with her. So thankful.

A small movement caught her eye and the form of a witch crawled out slowly from the shadows. Her hair was wild, sticking out in every direction. Her eyes were wide and staring. Emotionless. Blank. Dead. She was the picture of insanity.

'Memories. Happy memories' her voice was high and singing and she laughed manically between sentences. 'You have to have happy memories they say' she said, tapping her temple repeatedly 'Keeps you sane they say'

'What about you?' Bellatrix frowned. 'Why did your 'happy memories' allow you to become...this' she motioned to the witch herself clearly pointing out her obvious insanity. The witch crawled back into the darkness again, disappearing from view, but her laughing voice could be clearly heard.

'I have no happy memories.'

Someone holds me safe and war.

Horses prance through a silver storm.

Figures dancing gracefully,

Across my memory.

Bellatrix played with her toy broomstick happily as her younger sister watched.

'Can I have a go yet?' Narcissa asked yet again.

'No' Bellatrix snapped. She didn't mean to be horrible, but it was her special present and she had only had it a matter of hours. She didn't want to share yet. Narcissas' eyes filled with tears and she ran from the room leaving Bellatrix to make zooming noise as she raced around.

But her laughter soon faded as she saw her father standing in the doorway, holding a sobbing Narcissa by the hand. She always had been his favourite.

Her heart filled with dread as she watched her father take her toy out of her little hands and break it in half, before dropping it at Bellatrixs' feet.

'Maybe now you will share next time' he hissed at her. Narcissa and her father left the room leaving Bellatrix to cry over the lose of her new toy.

Someone holds me safe and warm.

Horses prance through a silver storm.

Figures dancing gracefully,

Across my memory.

Bellatrix looked proudly at the parchment in front of her. It had taken her two hours but she had finally finished her potions essay. As she raced towards the dungeon her lesson was being held in, she was glowing with pride. This was bound to get her a good grade.

Professor Slughorne read through the classes' essays as they turned to the correct page in their books and began to make the potion they had been asked to. After the hour was up, they were stopped and their parchments were sent back to them.

As Slughorne flicked his wand and Bellatrixs hard work landed on her desk, he clicked his tongue.

'Yet another 'E' Miss Black. I suppose it is an improvement on last weeks F though isn't it?' The class giggled as Bellatrixs face burnt red with indignation and embarrassment. The large red E stared at her. This was not fair!!

Far away,

Long ago.

Glowing dim as an ember.

Things my heart used to know.

Things it yearns to remember.

Bellatrix stood in her long, flowing dress clutching her flowers. She had finally found a pure-blooded male who loved her and this, her wedding day, had been prefect. She was brimming with joy as she walked down the long corridor of her new home and the sound of her new husbands' voice stopped her outside a room.

'It was convenient for me, that is all. There are very few pure-blood families left and the Blacks are among the most honourable.'

Bellatrixs heart thumped as she heard someone else's voice.

'It is unfortunate. For you anyway. I managed to get the pretty one. Narcissa always was leagues ahead of Bellatrix in every way' Lucius Malfoy laughed cruelly. A laugh that followed Bellatrix all the way down the remainder of the corridor and into her own room where she threw herself on the bed and sobbed.

And a song someone sings.

Once upon a December.

A small movement caught the witches' eye and Bellatrix crawled out slowly from the shadows. Her hair was wild, sticking out in every direction. Her eyes were wide and staring. Emotionless. Blank. Dead. She was the picture of insanity.