Hi everybody! So here is a fic i've working on this summer and decided to post! I usually don't like posting my work but i've gotta start someday! In total, there's going to be five chapters starting from her childhood up to when she becomes a Death Eater. So tell me what you think! :D

I am not J.K. Rowling so obviously I do not own Harry Potter.

"Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage."
Ray Bradbury

One of Bellatrix's strongest memories was of sitting in front of the Blacks family tree, her little bony legs swigging back and forth on the stool, as her mother lectured her harshly on the ideals of a pureblood. She remembered staring up at all those solemn faces wondering if she would follow in their footsteps. She would wonder if she too, one day, become proud and powerful, hate muggles and mudbloods with a passion, marry another pureblood, possibly someone distantly related to her and give birth to little pureblooded children. Big thoughts for a young child but when you were a Black, you had no choice but to grow up fast.

Little Bellatrix looked about the room, wondering when it would be Andromeda's turn to take her place for her lesson. She had heard the same theories so many times in her short life that she could practically recite them by hard. She did that some times; beat her mother to the catch phrase or fill in the sentence before she had a chance to. That always resulted in some severe scolding and a slap across the back of her head. Today, her mother had decided to question her on their family history, going all the way back to the Middle Ages. Bella wasn't very good at remembering all the dates. She often stuttered as she tried to recite all the information by heart. She never managed to cover the entire family. There was always an occasional name that would be left out. She had a particularly hard time with the Arcturus Black branch. Forgetting always resulted in a slap or two.

Luckily for her, five-year-old Andromeda knocked at the door just as she was starting to run out of names. Her little sister entered, nervously glancing up at the large tapestry just as she had done upon entering the room. Bella was given a curt dismissal as her younger sister took her place on the stool. She walked quickly towards the door, relishing at the thought of a little freedom but, as she laid her hand on the golden knob, she felt a twinge of guilt and turned to look at her little sister. If forgetting a name or date resulted in a slap, her sister was in for a hard time. Even Bellatrix was better then her in history classes…but then again, Andromeda was only five…

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Out of the many luxurious rooms in Cygnus Black's house, none of them could ever match up to aunt Walburga's attic. Bellatrix loved that dark secluded room dearly. Whenever she had a free moment on her hands, the young girl would use the family's Floo Powder to go to her aunt and uncles house. They did not care. Half of the time, they were gone out and the other half, they did not even notice her presence.

Bellatrix enjoyed sitting by the window in the attic. She loved the smell of century old furniture, pushed up against the walls. She loved the way the floor was completely covered in a thick layer of dust, the markings of her footsteps leading a trail from the door to the window. She liked the dust; it made everything seem so much more mysterious. Occasionally she'd notice smaller footprints scattered around the floor, evidence that the family house elf, Kreacher, was still up and about, caring to the family treasures. He used to sweep the floor until the young witch begged him not to, assuring him that his masters never came up to the attic anyways. Kreacher always did what she asked.

Bellatrix also liked to explore her family's treasures. On particularly boring days, after having stared out of the window for quite some time, the little witch would often stand on the tips of her toes to peer into tall glass cabinets. Although the contents inside never changed, she still couldn't help but be amazed. There were dragon claws and many wands incased in glass boxes, polished until they shone. There were rings and necklaces, giant teeth, parchment scrolls that look like they'd turn to dust at any moment, rusty daggers, a music box, coiled snakeskin and a very strange spidery instrument. Her aunt often talked about how, one day, she would have these priceless artifacts placed on display in the leaving room for everyone to see. But for now, they remained in the attic for Bellatrix to feast her little eyes on, but never touch, her aunt had made that quite clear.

Another one of Bellatrix's favorite pastimes while in the attic was to get Kreacher to stay up there with her. He was a mere house elf, yes, but also only one that she could talk to without receiving a bitter reply. Sometimes she would simply talk. She'd complain about how annoying her sisters were or how mean her mother had been to her that day. Other times, she wanted to play make-believe. She'd be Queen Bella and he'd be her servant. Together they'd cross raging oceans and wild forests in search of a powerful artifact. The games never lasted long for Kreacher always had something to clean or meals to cook. Before he left, Bellatrix would always order him not to tell anyone about their talks. She did not want to have people laughing at her for confiding in a house elf.

What Bellatrix liked the most when sitting by the window was the way she could peer down on the road from up high, without being seen. She especially liked to watch the other kids from the neighborhood, sometimes wondering what it would be like to be a 'normal' witch. During those quiet days, alone in her secret haven, Bellatrix would dare to wonder why the Blacks were so superior to others. She did not mind it that much. It made her feel special. She liked getting everything she wanted. But sometimes, only sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder. She would peer down on those other children and wonder why was it that they were inferior, that she, scrawny, bushy haired, Bellatrix was above them all. Secretly, Bellatrix feared that there was something wrong with her for thinking such things. She was absolutely terrified of what the future held in store for her. Having her daily study session with her mother did nothing but feed that fear. She did not get the point of repeating the same things over and over again. What did they hope to achieve by repeating the House of Black's history, goals and ideologies every single day? It did not help that every single one of her relatives seemed just as convinced as her mother did when proudly boasting of the Blacks greatness. Was there something wrong with her? Was she not a Black? The pride and joy of Cygnus and Druella Black? Bellatrix simply did not know…

So? Like it? Dislike it? I'd love to hear what you have to say...just be nice :) I know she might seem a little too nice in this first one compared to when she grows up but i somehow have trouble picturing a little child torturing people. I don't think she was born completely insane and evil. anyways i hope its ok!

Lots of love from the silly frog! :D

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