Where does a witch go after becoming so evil so young? Just where you think she’d go: to the Dark Lord! I met him when I was eighteen years of age, having just finished my magical education. Lucius Malfoy introduced me to him. He wasn’t at the height of his power yet, but I could tell that he had a brilliant mind. After all, he was able to frame Rubeus Hagrid (and have him expelled) for unleashing his basilisk that dwelled in the Chamber of Secrets, back when he was still a student. Absolutely incredible and ingenious, the way he pushed the suspicion away from himself. He was more than a worthy wizard to admire.

I remember the first human I killed. Helena Radcliffe was her name. Even the wicked Bellatrix Lestrange never forgets such a thing. Following the Dark Lord everywhere, I fell into his favor from the very start. We came upon this woman in Diagon Alley, striking up a conversation. We were the only ones on the street.

The Dark Lord bowed to Helena. In his icy voice, he said, “Good evening, madam. I’m curious; do you have a son or daughter attending Hogwarts?”

“Why, yes I do.” Mrs. Radcliffe flashed a proud smile. “My darling Emma’s doing quite well, particularly in Charms. She’ll be a wonderful asset to the Ministry one day, I’m sure.”

“I do hope the Muggle-borns are doing well with their lessons, don’t you?” Those words might sound foreign, coming from the Dark Lord’s mouth, but it was a test.

“Certainly,” she answered. “They’ve got so much catching up to do, since they didn’t know of their magic until age eleven. I think they can still become just as good as any half-blood or pure-blood, though.”

I tutted and shook my head. She had so much to learn. “Wrong answer. Stupefy!”

Just as we’d planned, she fell unconscious. Then, we Apparated to our hiding place, taking her with us. I threw her onto the floor of the living room and peered up at the Dark Lord.

“I’ll leave her in your capable hands, Black,” he ordered. “Do with her what you want.” He strolled off to another room.

It didn’t take long for me to decide. The Cruciatus Curse popped into my head on the spot. Wordlessly, I cast the curse upon Helena.

“Time to wakey, wakey, my dear lady!” Her eyes opened with a scream as she experienced the worst pain imaginable. I shot the curse at her again before she could speak.

“PLEASE stop!” she begged.

“And why would I do that, when you’ve been a bad girl?” I teased, continuing her torture. “Three times a charm!”

Clearly, I was having too much fun there, watching her writhe in pain just like the cat had done. I barely even blinked when I actually killed her. As far as I was concerned, the world was now less one wrong-minded soul. It brings chills up my spine to realize that I'd done this as a teenager.