The Criminal
Bellatrix always fell asleep after her cousin.
Because Sirius was innocent, they both knew it, and just because he felt guilty didn't mean he actually was guilty.
But she, Bella, was the farthest thing from innocent, and no matter how justified she felt, no matter how okay she pretended to be, her victims haunted her in her dreams.
It always started with Cissy. They were young again - Cissy couldn't have been more than five - and she, Bellatrix, was teasing her about something; she, Bellatrix, was shoving her to the ground; she, Bellatrix, was hurting her, and Narcissa wasn't crying, but she was pale white and her eyes were wide and Bellatrix wanted to stop but she couldn't, couldn't, couldn't, she needed to hurt people like she needed to breathe, and she used to be ashamed of that bloodthirsty part of her, but now she embraced it, now she loved it, and Cissy's screams were addictive, they tasted like ecstasy and honey and she, Bellatrix, was a dementor, feeding on the terror in her sister's fragile little body, and it was so, so good -
And then she fell into a different dream, this time about a boy named Connor, and he was a mudblood, a stupid little mudblood that had somehow wound up in Slytherin, and she couldn't have that, now, could she? They were alone in the cellar of the Malfoy Manor - Lucius had invited all the Slytherins in their year to come around for Christmas - and he was whimpering and begging but she didn't care, she liked watching him snivel, she wanted to see him bleed. And someone must have heard it upstairs - someone must have known exactly what she was doing - but nobody came, and Bellatrix swooped down to inhale the mudblood's terror, because she was a dementor again, she belonged in Azkaban - behind the bars or outside of them, it made no difference, because she could feel all their pain either way, and it was so, so good -
And then it was the Longbottoms, the fat, stupid, ugly Longbottoms, and yes, they were brave, and yes, they were kind, but that didn't matter, all she, Bellatrix, wanted was to watch them die in agony, because the truth was, deep down inside herself, she was in agony, too, and if somebody else hurt more than she did, it was a victory, wasn't it? And wasn't it true that as long as she was the most ferocious beast in the world, there was no reason to be afraid of the dark?
"Bellatrix," a guard said, and she woke from her dream with a ragged gasp.
"What?" she snapped.
"Come on, be nice to the poor man," Sirius' voice floated out of the cell next to hers. "He doesn't want to talk to you any more than you want to talk to him."
"Shut up, Sirius."
"Your sister is here to see you," the guard said. Narcissa Malfoy was standing just behind him, her lips pressed together, her face white. "She brought some blankets."
"One of those is for me," Sirius called. Narcissa passed one between the bars on his door. "Thanks, Cissy."
"I'll leave you two alone, then," the guard said stiffly. "If you need anything, Mrs. Malfoy, just give a shout."
Narcissa took a deep breath and turned to face her sister. "Hello, Bella."
She looked terrified, like a child, and Bellatrix wondered what terrible traumas the dementors were making her remember.
(A perverted spark of excitement jumped within her breast.)
[Monthly Drabble-A-Thon: Mudblood]
[Collect A Collection Competition: Bellatrix Black (Marauder's Era); Word Prompt: Dreaming]
[Fiddler on the Roof Character Challenge: Fruma-Sarah - write about a dream.]
[Female Challenge: Anne Shirley - write about a strange and vivid dream]