Bellatrix had grown up jealous, jealous that Narcissa was so easily accepted by her family, jealous that regulus was the next in line to the black title, jealous that her sister got to live the life she wanted, jealous of Sirius. Sirius and the way he turned crowds of people into tears of laughter with a simple joke. The way he was a gryfindor and yet still more noticed by her family. The way he was free.
Years later, after all the torture and the ripping of the few happy memories she held so dear, she would come to find the walls of Azkaban broken. She’d gone to far- a broken shell of her youth one might say. Her old self may still reside within, but hidden away, blocked behind the layers of torture and hatred shed spent years building. Every memory of happiness- every memory of her family’s adoration to her sisters, to her cousins- every whipers of “she’ll never be enough, shes crazy”, building up, brick by brick, locking herself in Azkaban, even after her escape, her old self still reminded locked away. Only pure cold hatred remaining.
Hearing word of her little cousin, that filthy blood traitor, being free was one thing. She hoped of his change, that she wasn’t alone, finally having someone to relate to. But then the news came- “He’s helping Harry Potter”.
Harry Potter.
The son of the man who helped Sirius escape. More proof she could leave if she tried, but who did she have to run to? No friends, no husband, no family. Harry, the son that she hated so much, only wanting to see nothing more than her master happy. The master that she tried so hard to please and yet she never felt full filled.
Harry, the blood traitor, the son of the reason her family began falling apart, her biggest rival.
And so the opportunity came, Sirius black and Harry Potter, united and fighting.
She stood back, watching her cousin and god hoe he hadn’t changed. His hair still curled around his face, framing his innocence- more rough now, Azkaban has that effect on people. She’d know.
Oh how she missed him, the faint laughter of their younger selves hiding away as children, avoiding the wrath of their family galas, a memory engraved in her vision as she watched.
That was an old him, one that hadn’t ruined everything.
She watched him call to his dead friend “good one James”, where was James? Only his child remained. Bellatrix knew the protection he felt for Harry, shed go to war for Draco, god she’d probably hunt down and murder anyone if she heard word of her old sisters child in harm. Not that she should care, its in her duty to not care, yet her heart aches as she looks at Sirius.
No, he betrayed her.
Her understanding faltered as remembered, they’re blood traitors, its what they deserve. He shouldn’t get to live free. To live happy. To live the life she dreamed. He’d chosen all the wrong paths, and she had stayed, perfect, constantly craving validation that she never received. How was he deserving of such a life?
He wasn’t.
So she stood, face to face with Sirius, seeing the glaze of protection in his eyes and then looking over, the fear in harrys. Ha.
And just like that, easy, he was gone, dead. He deserved it. She’d been the one to do it, to kill Sirius Black. The sirius black, the one she hated to much. Hated…
She felt no regret, watching harry collapse to the ground, his screams ricocheting around them, grasping Lupin like she’d killed him instead.
It was music to her ears. One more competition down.
She wouldve killed harry to, if it wasnt for her masters wishes. Being forced to leave the job half done in order to please him.
But Sirius was gone, and Bellatrix… well, she kept on surviving.