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Elladora Black
(Born to Cygnus Black I & Ella Max, 1850)
Father used to tell us stories about our scary ancestors.
Alexia was the first. The story of her scooping out the eyeballs of her older sister especially terrified Isla and disgusted Phineus. Phineus joked about Phoebe's blue eyes, and told me he would charm my cerulean ones to change colour. I stuck my tongue out in mock revulsion and pretended to shudder. Secretly, I was thrilled by the gruesome story, and desperate to hear more.
When we were older, we heard the truth about Father's brother. He told us that Uncle Arcturus went insane and murdered various Muggle women, an event which followed the rape of his own sister. Again, I was delightedly shocked by the scandal.
I would look around my siblings and wonder which one of us from this generation of Blacks would become the crazy one.
I'm floating down the upstairs hallway. It's the same hallway that I've walked down a thousand times, but somehow it's different in this dream.
I'm smaller. I know this because the twitching portraits on the walls are higher. I approach the door at the end of the hall, and push it open. My older brother is sleeping soundly in his bed. In my hand is Mother's wand, which I managed to snatch from her bedroom cabinet earlier in the day.
She shouldn't have told me that I couldn't play with it. I always get what I want.
The door creaks and I tiptoe my through, and Sirius twitches in his sleep. His eyes flicker open, and he sits up. He looks over at me, but it's too late.
I'm holding Mother's wand in front of me. Something stirs deep within me, and the wand shudders in my hand. A spark of green light streams from the tip, and fires directly into my brother's chest.
I was fifteen when I found Mother crying over images of Sirius.
In her hysteria, she confessed to me that Sirius didn't die from sickness, which is what we all believed. She told me he was murdered the night - by none other than his own sister. By me.
"You're lying!" I screamed at her, when she explained this to me.
"No, my love. And it's all because of your father."
I tried to wonder how this could possibly be my father's fault, but Mother continued.
"Your father isn't Cygnus, sweetheart," she whispered, gazing at me with her tear-filled eyes. "Your father is Uncle Arcturus."
After I beheaded the ancient house elf that had spilled tea all over my lap when I was fifteen, I overheard her telling Father that there was a curse on our wretched family. Something that caused one child of every Black generation to go entirely crazy.
Alexia's Curse.
Written for Round 5 of the Hogwarts Writing Challenge.
Word Count: 504