Of Blood and Traitors

He was dead. I had killed him.

I loved the bastard, too. Not like how I love Rodolphus, of course, but I had loved him. He was my family, after all. But all in all, it's still the same: Sirius Ian Black is dead. He fell behind the veil. I had killed him. I had killed him.

If only Mother was alive to see this day.

She would be so proud of me. I, Bellatrix, her middle daughter, had succeed in killing that riffraff of a man she was forced to call a nephew. She, like the rest of my family, had disowned Sirius the moment he was sorted into Gryffindor, and even more so, once he had ran away from home. My Father would have been honored in more ways than one. He had never really like his brother, Eacles (Sirius' father) nor had he liked his sister in law, Pusilla, but above either of them he hated their boys, Sirius and Regulus. He had died, hating all of them.

But things hadn't always been like that. I can remember back when we were children, little girls, Narcissa and I were, playing with dolls and other childish things. I remember when Aunt Pusilla had brought over the boys for Andromeda to watch over. Of course, Andromeda had never spent much time watching over us. She was too busy, err, mingling with her mudblood of a boyfriend, Ted. We had never really cared though. The four of us would always play together. Sometimes Sirius and Regulus would force Narcissa and I to play Quidditch. Other times Narcissa and I would force Sirius and Regulus to play house with us. Every time we did, Sirius was always my pretend-husband, simply because he and I were older. And I had never really liked Regulus to begin with.

One time (once the two of us were slightly older and no longer had such a desire to play house but were doing so to please Narcissa, who was still young) the two of us hid behind the house, so that the Narcissa and Regulus couldn't find us. We stayed out there for hours, talking about anything and everything.

I remembered that night, too. That was the night Andromeda told Mum that she was pregnant. That she was leaving. That she was going to marry Ted Tonks, and they were going to have a baby, a girl, from what I had heard. I remember hearing Mum scream. Hearing Aunt Pusilla's screeching voice carry out through the entire manor.

That night, Narcissa and I made a promise. Both of us would marry wealthy purebloods, so Mum wouldn't have to yell at us. No matter what. We were going to make Mother proud. If she couldn't have her happy pureblood family through Andromeda, then she would through us. We promised. We swore.

The next time Sirius came over, I had told him what Narcissa and I promised. However, he wasn't pleased at all. I remember him yelling at me. I shouldn't have to marry a pureblood, just because Mother had said so. I shouldn't have to have pureblood children, just because Mother wanted me to. I should never insult Andromeda. She did what she thought was right. She was in love, for Christ sake!

We weren't so close after that.

I didn't get him. I still don't. Probably never will, either. What had driven him to think like that? To dishonor his family! What Andromeda did was wrong, and always would be wrong, no matter what Sirius said.

The only thing that made me think of Sirius' betrayal had been Aunt Pusilla. She and Sirius had never had a happy Mother-Son relationship. Sirius was often jealous, I think, because Aunt Pusilla had often favored Regulus, and left Sirius in the shadow. They shared so many different views on things, that I was very surprised that he didn't run away any sooner than he did. He was a very rebellious child, and an even more rebellious teenager.

We rarely talked when we were at Hogwarts. We had no reason to. He was a Gryffindor. I was a Slytherin. Slytherins and Gryffindors don't talk to each other, family or not, unless they were throwing insults. Occasionally, I would catch him staring at me, specifically whenever I was with Rodolphus. He would have the foulest, most disgusted look on his face, shake his head sorrowfully, and then turn back to his friends. I supposed it was because of my relationship with Rodolphus that made Sirius mad. I didn't love Rodolphus. I most certainly didn't date him for his looks. I dated him because of two things: One, he was rich. Two, he was a pureblood. That should have been all that mattered, right?

I supposed one of the happiest days of my life was whenever Sirius was thrown in Azkaban. My cell was pretty close to his, so I watched the Dementors bring him in. He kept on screaming: "I didn't do it! I wouldn't kill all those Muggles!! Peter did it! Peter!!!!"

I laughed. That was probably the only time in Azkaban that I did laugh. A small part of me thought that he might have been a Death Eater, a servant of My Lord, but that thought soon vanished. I knew Sirius wouldn't kill anyone. He probably didn't even have the stomach to watch someone die, much less kill them himself.

He was calm, most of the time. He sat there, staring out behind the bars. When he slept, however, was an entirely different story. I watched him in his sleep, muttering nonsense about James Potter and promising to protect some kid named Harry and that it was all Peter's fault, not his.

I was pretty calm as well. I knew I just had to sit this out. My Master would come. He would take me out of this place. My Lord was all powerful. He could save me.

I promised myself, that when My Master came to release me, I would go over to Sirius and kick him, hard. Taunt him a little. Tell him what he could have accomplished, had he only stayed true to his blood.

But he left before me. I watched him, too. I watched him slowly creep through the bars. I saw him. And I called out to him, though I don't know if he heard me:

"Sirius! Sirius, it's me!! Bellatrix! Your cousin!! Sirius, come back, save me!!!" Hey, I was desperate. You would be to, spending fifteen years in Azkaban. I watched, with the greatest form of envy I had ever felt in my life. To watch that damned black dog paddle off to shore, to watch him swim to freedom....

But that doesn't matter anymore. He's dead, the blood traitor. I had killed him.

I had killed him.