46. Dungeon

Sobbing, Bellatrix raced down to the dungeons. Scattering papers left and right, dropping books and quills, shattering inkwells against the stone walls, Bellatrix ran. Finally, finally, she reached the black-stained door that was her destination.

“Alohamora,” Bellatrix whispered. This was her Dungeon, the place she could go when solitude was necessary. It was pitch black, but after five years of use, Bellatrix had the room memorized; she needed no light. Blindly yet surely, Bellatrix walked through the nearly unused room. It smelled comfortingly of smoke, mint, and sickly sweet potions. Bellatrix’s head instantly cleared; rational thinking was once again possible.

11. History Of Magic

Bellatrix slumped in her seat. Slowly, as the History of Magic professor droned on, her head slipped downwards. Luckily, she caught herself, snapping her head upright.

Bella switched her thoughts to a more productive activity - imagining she was the History of Magic professor.

For each unit, she decided, the classroom would be decorated in a relevant theme. Magic would be incorporated: historical figures that told their own biographies; battles reenacted by tiny ghosts; Pensieve field trips. Bella smiled, enjoying her classroom.

“What’s so amusing, Ms. Black?” asked the professor dryly.

“Nothing,” Bellatrix snapped, and stared blankly out the window.

72. Vex

Narcissa was fourteen and Bellatrix nine; the younger Black was the ideal age vex her sister to no end.

“Do NOT put your muddy feet on my quilt!” Narcissa screeched.

“But Cissa…your necklaces are pretty!” wailed Bellatrix.

Narcissa stared in horror at the silvery knot of jewelry hanging all over Bellatrix.

The elder snatched her wand from a shelf and aimed it at her sister. “If you don’t get out right now…”

“Don’t vex me, Narcissa,” murmured Bellatrix quietly, holding Narcissa’s priceless crystal ball high above the flagstone floor.

Gulping, Narcissa lowered her wand. Bellatrix happily returned to knotting necklaces.

96. Socks

No one in the family had any socks, and Bellatrix was frustrated. For the first time, she experienced cold feet.

As Bellatrix stomped about the halls searching for socks, a pair of them whizzed by her head. With a yelp, she chased around corners and down stairs, ignoring the yells of portraits. Finally, she sped through a door and found herself in baby Andromeda’s room. Andromeda sat in her crib, giggling and pointing at the socks. They flew across her room and out the window. A minute later another pair followed suite.

At least she’s not a Squib, Bellatrix thought.