Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything therein. No profit was made, etc. etc. etc.

A Question of When

Bellatrix had been born into one of the most prestigious pureblood families in the Wizarding World. Growing up in the Black family she knew from the moment she could comprehend speech, what was expected of her. As the eldest, she had served as an ever present example to her two sisters from the moment they were born. Bellatrix upheld the pureblood ideals of the Black family during her entire childhood and on. Part of those ideals included the knowledge that each member of the family was expected to, when asked, join the Death Eaters and swear their eternal allegiance to the Dark Lord Voldemort. Where other children had grown up with tales of pixies and giants and benevolent angels who granted wishes, Bellatrix had grown up on bedtime stories filled with mentions of the Dark Lord and his deeds. Being in his service was not a punishment or even a matter of debate; it was something to look forward to with much anticipation and longing. Lord Voldemort's way was the only way, to the Black family. Not obtaining a position in his ranks was worse than death, in their eyes. Bellatrix had always known she would come to stand by the Dark Lord one day; it was not a question of if so much as a question of when.

During her youth, Bellatrix was at times unruly, but not spoiled like her sister Narcissa nor flighty like Andromeda. She always curtseyed when she was addressed by adults, kept herself presentable to company, and knew when to keep her mouth closed, but would antagonize her playmates by stealing their toys and breaking them or secretly throwing hexes at whoever was nearest to her. The eldest Black daughter enjoyed catching pixies and plucking the wings from their backs while they attempted to escape from her grasp. She was cruel to creatures when she could be and practiced magic as often as possible. By the time she was ready to attend Hogwarts, Bellatrix knew how to cast spells even some third years knew nothing of.

All throughout her time at Hogwarts, the eldest Black daughter secretly studied the Dark Arts in an effort to ready herself for her duties in the Dark Lord's service. She read volumes from the Restricted Section on the darkest subjects and retained everything. As she could not try out anything but the accepted curriculum within the walls of the castle, Bellatrix waited until summer to put into practice what she had learned.

Her first two summers were spent casting dark spells behind her bedroom doors or outside in the grove of trees on the outskirts of the Black estate. During her third summer she began to take walks in nearby muggle neighborhoods, following a few unlucky Muggles into dark alleys where she would strengthen her effectiveness of the Imperius Curse. Growing increasingly bored of making her Muggle victims dance around on command, she began forcing them to hurt themselves, laughing as she watched the Muggles slice their skin with pocket knives and bleed to death. The Muggle police would find the bodies soon after, ruling them suicides, as there were no signs of "foul play."

The following three summers were, in her opinion, the most exciting. Bellatrix would lure Muggles into the woods, pretending to have lost something within the boundaries of the trees and needing their help. When alone, she would perform the Cruciatus Curse on them, her eyes glittering with sadistic delight as their screams fell into the silence of the forest, unheard and unanswered. The Muggles would twitch and scream until they were practically foaming at the mouth from insanity. After releasing them from her favorite Unforgivable Curse, she would force them to kill themselves. By Bellatrix's seventh year she had, unbeknownst to anyone save the Dark Lord himself, killed more than twenty Muggles.

Bellatrix was alerted that she would be presented to the Dark Lord sometime during her seventh year, a thought which delighted her more than anything ever had. The moment that she had been waiting for since birth was quickly approaching. However, there was still one Unforgivable Curse she had not yet even dared to try. Coming home for Christmas Holiday, Bellatrix resolutely vowed to finish her training and prove to herself that she was ready to serve the Dark Lord with everything she had. It had become her dream to stand beside Lord Voldemort as his most faithful and worthy servant. She would do anything and everything she had to in order to make her dream a reality.

The day before Christmas, Bellatrix walked through the streets of a Muggle town a bit further away than she usually dared go. A tall red cheeked Muggle with chocolate brown hair who appeared to have just entered adulthood was wandering by, catching sight of her. He mustered up the courage to talk to her and bravely asked her to tea. Bellatrix laughed daintily, using what womanly skills she had learned during her blossoming from youth to adult. She led him through the woods, flirting and promising him she had "better tea" back at her parents' estate. The further into the seemingly unending throng of trees they went, the darker it became. Bellatrix's heart was beating in her chest as she silently wondered whether or not she had enough in her to pull off this latest murder.

She had to do it; she could not fail. The Dark Lord had no use for someone who could not use the Killing Curse. Her entire life had consisted of working hard and readying herself to be a servant to Lord Voldemort forever. If he would not have her, she had wasted seventeen years of her life and would not be able bear wasting any more. Her life would be over, as she had resolved long ago to commit suicide rather than continue living as a disgrace to both the Black family and the Dark Lord himself.

The Muggle smiled at Bellatrix as she looked over her shoulder at him. Her hand reached into her pocket, smiling cordially at the man. "You're very pretty." He remarked.

"Thank you." She returned with her voice as sweet as sugar. Bellatrix slowed to a halt, realizing they were now in the heart of the forest.

"Lost the way?" asked the man curiously. "We can always head back." He suggested.

Bellatrix shook her head. "That won't be necessary. We're here." She returned, turning around to face him completely.

The Muggle furrowed his brows. "What do you mean, love?"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Green light blazed for a moment in the darkness, more brilliant than any emerald Bellatrix had ever seen. She could hear the flapping of wings, as if there were a bird nearby taking flight. The light left his eyes slowly, leaving nothing but dull, hollow-looking orbs staring back at her blankly. Bellatrix licked her lips as she watched the life drain out of the man silently. His body was stiff as it fell back onto the ground.

The whole scene left her awestruck, her body tingling as if she had just become aware of her senses. Every hair on her body stood on end as she gazed in wonder at what she had just done. This was a new rush, more powerful and intoxicating than any she had experienced during her previous Muggle murders. Those unfortunate souls had writhed on the floor as she had forced them to slice their necks open, gurgling in protest until their hearts ceased to beat. There had always been a struggle, or some show of loss before. Now it was just finality and the beauty of complete stillness. The man had been made to surrender before he had even known death was approaching.

There was no blood, as Bellatrix was accustomed to. She did not have to recoil to keep from being splattered with the spray that would shoot out like a macabre fountain from her victims. There was no pool collecting on the ground, bubbling, sticky, and quickly cooling as it finished oozing out of the man's veins. It was so simple that she remarked it had almost been too easy. This was the way to kill someone, no effort, no sweat, no mess. It was perfection, and it seemed as if the spell had been made just for her. She could feel then that the Dark Lord's way was right for her.

Before the New Year had arrived Bellatrix was presented to the Dark Lord. His red eyes flashed when he met her, finally. He deliberated on her accomplishments up until then and weighed them against her current vows of undying loyalty to him. As she swore her allegiance to him forever, the Dark Lord branded her as his own. It had never been a question of if so much as a question of when.