Does anyone know what hate feels like? Does anyone know how loneliness tastes? Does anyone know how it feels, to live a life knowing that your mother didn't want you, knowing that you loathe your mother and can't help loathing her?
No.
I have learnt that my life is a unique one, and yet, I cannot feel happy because of it.
My name is Bellatrix Astoreth Lestrange-Black… I don't even bear the name of my biological father, although I am pretty sure he at least wanted me. He at least loves me, he at least trusts me and learns me things. My father is perhaps not the kindest and softest person on earth, but nor am I.
He could not take proper care of me-I understand that. His cause is too important to spoil it raising one child or another. My father, my Lord as I and everybody call him, has a purpose in his life. A good purpose. He had me adopted by the Black-family, very loyal followers of his, whom he trusted above everything. They treated me, being His Daughter, with all respect possible, but I did not like them. Especially did I not like my "younger sisters". Andromeda, the oldest, was a mudblood-friend who was- the shame!- sorted into Gryffindor, and though the youngest, that pale and almost invisible little Narcissa, was more like our kind, she was too weak for me. She did at least marry a good man, though- Lucius Malfoy- but she was and is entirely dominated by him.
I have never been dominated.
I attended Hogwarts- my foster parents sent their children there as well, and, more important, my Lord heavily insisted on it. I didn't understand, but I was barely more than a child, so I followed.
I hated it there.
I was sorted into Slytherin- well, at least that was a lucky thing! I made some friends- I made friends among the Slyttherins very easily, because their parents, and thus them, all knew very well whose daughter I was. My fellow Housemates accepted me as their leader, even the older ones. We wandered through the corridors at night, we didn't care about detention or House Points, we were the greatest fear of the school and the other students.
We hated our teachers.
Especially that one person, that tall witch with her thick, black hair, mostly twisted into a bun, with her piercing green eyes, with those loads of Transfigurations homework she gave us. With her gaze…
I had the feeling she watched me more than she watched others, but I could not see why. I supposed it was because she somehow had realized I was the "gang leader".
How many times have I not inwardly hexed Minerva Jean McGonagall, how many times have I not noticed her observing me and scolded her for it, how many times have I not called her the ugliest names imaginable? That Gryffindor bitch, Dumbledore's slut, that evil, frustrated old spinster who always knew things better, with her stupid homework and her stupid transforming into a stupid cat, only to catch students off their guard…
And then I graduated.
And then he told me she was my mother.