My Father is the worst man alive and I'm his favorite daughter
The Noble House of Black is beautifully unattainable, la crème de la crème of the wizarding world. Yes, the Malfoy's, the Avery's and even the Lestrange's are rich, but the Black's are royalty, to see them is to want them to know them is a privilege. To be them is the most extraordinary blessing or the worst curse bestowed by the universe (and the blacks know a thing or two about curses).
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Bellatrix was born a contradiction. Everything about her mother, Druella Black née Rosier, pregnancy hinted at the baby being a boy. Whether it was the old wives' tales or the family's blind hope that led them astray, everyone was fooled into believing Bellatrix to be a boy. Cygnus junior, more precisely. So when a beautiful baby girl came out screaming, everyone couldn't help but be disappointed. An heir was promised, but only a girl was given. No one noticed the magic that seemed to vibrate around little Bella, none but her grandfather.
"She is a Black", he reminded everyone, and therefore she is perfect.
And so she was named after the third-brightest star in the Orion constellation (little did they know she would later be third in line for the Black fortune). Bellatrix grew up as a contradiction. While the other pureblood girls her age learnt the art of lethal delicacy, silence and softness, Bella was all sharp corners and loud remarks nothing she did went unseen, she was a star, and she demanded attention and respect. Her magic surpasses that of some of her tutors. A prodigy, she would have been named if she wasn't a Black, where extraordinary is the standard. While the rest of the world wondered at her power, her family went blissfully unbothered. As she grew louder and older she snatched her family's attention and forced it on her, who were they to be unbothered by her excellence, who were they to believe her mediocre? And then they would remind her that they were Blacks, it was then she learned that her only equals in this world were her family. But even then she would find out that some were better than others. Her contradiction was complexified when her rebellion was no longer seen as endearing or a passing development by her parents anymore, as if she would ever dedicate time to anything as insignificant as a passing phase. No her rebellion was not temporary nor was it subtle, with every inch of her being she fought. Her pain would not be undermined. She would never allow herself to be forced to conform to the norm that society set for her because she was a woman. As other girls lost their spark and realized that there is no divinity in girlhood, her spark only grew to an all-encompassing fire. Try as they might, they would not put it out, They could not put her out. Even in death, she did not rest.
She was her father's favourite daughter, and he was the worst man alive. However, she is the worst woman alive, so she is so much worse.