…
"There's moments in your life that make you, that set the course of who you're gonna be. Sometimes they're little, subtle moments. Sometimes they're not. I'll show you what I mean."
Whistler (Buffy the Vampire Slayer
8 years earlier
It was a cool winter's morning the day I got that knock on the door. I'd like to say I saw it coming, like the great seer Cassendra it was sent to me in a vision; I'd like to say I'd watched the stars the night before and seen it in their constellations, that the leaves falling harmlessly to the ground had told me a tale. But I didn't.
The day I got that knock on the door was my birthday but other than that a day like any other. The temperature was its usual cool, the wind blew but not too strong and the sun kept itself hidden behind threatening storm clouds – all normal things during the winter.
So really there had been no signs.
But when I opened that door – a door that should have been opened by our governess Mialita but she was too busy directing the houself to clean up whatever was left of my party – I got this feeling; a feeling like the one I got whenever my sisters and I had a fight, a boiling icky feeling in the pit of my stomach, bubbling slowly up and engulfing me. That was the feeling I got when I opened the door and saw a tall man dressed in fine black robes standing there with a solemn expression on his pudgy face.
Now, my momma said never to trust a man in such dress robes (which included basically everyone I'd ever met) but great Aunt Walburga says never to trust a word that comes out of my momma's mouth. Aunt Walburga said a lot of things about my momma, like how Papa had degraded himself greatly by marrying the likes of her, a common pureblood woman who held little sway in society, but then Momma told me one night great Uncle Orion had died from the after effects of marrying Walburga so I suppose, in retrospect, my papa did a right smart thing by marrying my momma.
I stayed partly hidden behind the door as the man looked me over, taking in my white tights riding up under my red velvet dress that was slightly uncomfortable but sure pretty to look at; my sisters had matching ones that they were wearing now, only theirs were in emerald and blue (the blue of course belonged to Narcissa – her favourite colour). My curly hair hung in ringlets down my back, kept off my face by a matching red headband and my black shoes were polished to shine by our elf Mitsy.
"Can I help you?" I asked politely; who said I didn't know my manners? Aunt Walburga, of course.
"Um, yes." I watched as he took of his glasses and stared me down. "Is there an adult in the house?"
I thought of Mialita in the kitchen but then I remembered how grownups never tell me anything and if I didn't get Mialita then maybe he'll tell me what was going on. So I shook my head, the perfect picture of innocence.
He seemed put out by this but tried not to show it.
"Who are you, sir?" I asked, trying my best to look every inch the responsible adult he was looking for, even though I wasn't.
"I'm Bill Donalow, I work for the ministry. And what would your name be?" He smiled at me, warm and smooth like honey.
I raised my chin, standing up straight. "Bellatrix Black, sir."
"Well, that is a pretty name if I ever heard one."
I scrunched up my nose at his words, remembering something. "My cousin Sirius doesn't think so."
"Well, I'm sure he's just jealous that such a pretty girl like you has a nicer name than him," he told me with a grin.
A beam grew upon my face and I stepped a little further into view. "Thankyou, sir."
He smiled too but after a pause it was replaced by a look of solemnity. I decided then and there I hated that look. "Bellatrix, there's something I have to tell you."
That feeling returned then, you know the icky one, and my hand shook on the door knob. Somehow, I couldn't explain how, I knew what was coming.
He seemed to notice how pale my face had gotten for he said, "Perhaps we should talk about this inside."
But I shook my head stubbornly, determined to find out what was going on here and now. "I think here's good."
He sighed, giving in. "Bellatrix . . . well, there's been an accident."
I looked away, already somehow knowing where this was going. My eyes focused on the entrance to the playroom down the hall where Narcissa and Andromeda were poking their heads out, curious as to why their sister hadn't returned to play with them yet.
"Your parents . . ." he trailed off, unsure how to continue. It was obvious he wasn't used to doing this sort of thing and had expected, upon showing up, to drop whatever news he had off with an adult so they could pass it along to us.
I looked back at him, eyes wide and blank as the cool winter air blew in from outside. It twisted around my throat like a hand searching for its next victim and like any vengeful hand it held tight, strangling and constricting my airways until I almost couldn't breathe.
"Your parents are . . . well, your parents are dead."
The fist held tighter and I breathed in, struggling.
They couldn't be dead, there was no way. They'd just been with me this morning for my party, we'd had a great time and Momma had turned Papa's hair pink to make us laugh. They'd walked out the door around noon for their daily walk but they would come back, just like they always did; they always came back.
"I'm sorry."
It was that look on Bill Donalow's face that did it, that made it true as I stared at him wide-eyed and pale. So like any reasonable person that couldn't breathe and felt like they were going to have a heart attack, I fainted.
…
"...Bottom line is, even if you see 'em coming, you're not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So what are we, helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come. You can't help that. It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are."
- Whistler (Max Perlich) of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"
