InsaneJournal

How did normal eleven year olds entertain themselves? Killing helpless forest creatures, of course! Rodolphus was crouched before her, treating the thing like a surgeon carefully identifying the organs he wanted to save for the moment of true gore. The forest ground created a gurney of leaves. And there she was, the oldest Black sister seated cross-legged on the ground like it were some throne. She had been accepted into Hogwarts, Slytherin no less. Her arrival home was like the ceremony of heroes. Everything since then was like a walk on high.

Rodolphus peeled and stabbed, jabbing and squirting tiny vessels to create a bed of deep crimson, the oldest of the blood seeping deep into the ground to create black, new life. Her eyes were not on him. Whereas any other child would either be completely fascinated by the death before them or disgusted to the point of running off to Mummy and Dad, Bellatrix remained perfectly tame. Chattering on about who knew what, as though this were just second nature to her. A wonderful marriage they would have. Husband bringing home the corpse of another elected official and perfect little wife ranting on about the consistency of dust on her favourite spell book.

Her eyes were set up to the ever-waving leaf canopy above. "I really don't think Andi should even be able to get away with it, yes? She is such a nuisance sometimes and I think all that needs to happen is a good smack. Don't you think that helps best? I mean," the dark-haired girl finally turned back to her friend, "With that damned elf," she loved the way only they could use such obscene language like it was the very thing that held such sin, "It is his place to remember where you want your things. I personally believe you should just be done with him and move on."

Her words were such a fast-flowing rant she had hardly noticed what it was she was saying, until the end hit her. The way his hands maneuvered inside that squirrel. That was it. A smirk crept over her lips. "What about that, Rod? Be done with him.."

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That look in a young man's eye, any other girl would be sent within a fit of swooning but Bellatrix Black held her ground. Besides, they were only children yet but even as she grew, little mind would be paid to the opposite sex when the true lust awaited in the depths of magical empowerment. Her face so pale and young, yet those icicle blue eyes hinted with something ferocious at the thought of death.

Not yet developed lips pursed forward, adding to the appearance of disagreement despite the sly undertones still abhorred by her grin. It was amazing the nicknames these two got away with, for in later years no other but sister and betrothed would ever call her something other than Bellatrix.

Hands pressed down onto her tiny, stalk-like knees as she pushed herself up as soon as the squirrel went off in another direction. Excitement would surely get the better of them. Her mess of hair aflutter as she sprung to her feet. "Nevermind Andi," death wouldn't be a suitable reaction for a beloved sister. Not now, anyway. \

There was a perk to her step, almost bouncing her petite frame like she had ingested an obscene amount of sugar. "Yes, yes," she started with a run towards the opposite end of the forest, ultimately in direction of Lestrange Manor.

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While Bellatrix knew the fortune she was to come into at one point in her life, she had not let it seep into her every fibre. Not like Rodolphus. Yes, she was wearing a dress but no, she did not sit with her legs together. What could he possibly see but another line of cotton? It wasn't that she didn't want to be a woman, she was very much enthralled with fashion from other periods but it was that her ambition lie outside of traditional atmosphere. Odd, yes, for a woman to be so deeply bred in tradition. She wanted to overcome the power struggle a witch faced. She wanted the statues in the Ministry lobby to be reversed. That wasn't too unconventional, was it? She was a Black, after all, she had most everyone convinced of her superiority just by birth.

Laughter swelled out of her diaphragm, echoing from her mouth as Rodolphus chased after her. An unspoken race bestowed upon the path back to his family home. The trim of her skirt kicked up with each movement, as though it held absolutely no inhibitions to her agility and in fact, improved it. Head turned towards him, as they were now neck and neck. The true heart of competition alive in her so early.

"Lure?" A face of complete disapproval suggested that job was for the lesser of the two. "Last one to the fence has to lure." And there they were, two children chasing after one another. All for the sake of a dead house elf. Oh, the places they'll go.

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Jaw dropped for ease of breath, as he plunged into her lungs only to just as soon exit in a push of frustration. Arms bent at her side, hands into a fist as though both motions created a fastness he could not match, but indeed, he could. If he was easily beat, the fun would have diminished. Eyes kept swaying over to where he ran, keeping a good judgment on what needed to be done to succeed her victory.

But the second time she glanced, genius seemed to strike. Her pace slowed and eyes dropped immediately to the uneven land in front of her. Within that quick second, she had herself on the ground. No wasted time, she sent a shout up that would be easily heard from the Lestrange manor. Once Rodolphus glanced back to see what had happened, it was obvious this was just another strategy. A grin was on her lips, but still she kept up the illusion of pain through her shouts.

A hand reached out to him, urging him to hurry over to her. She whispered, stopping only for a moment with the screams to speak to him. "You go in, screaming for the elves and tell them I've been hurt. I'll distract the others while you get that one into an area he won't be seen. Eventually get him into the woods, once the others bring me inside and then I'll meet you back out there."

Her eyebrows perked up, flashing the clever quirk that laid there behind her eyes. Then her hands grasped around her ankle, as she rocked back and forth with a pain that one might have sworn was real.

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Luckily, his parents were not too worried of such a matter. Children hurt themselves daily. Not even her own father, who nearly worshiped the very ground she destroyed, would have left his reclining chair to make sure her tears were eased. That grin increased into a smirk for that brief moment complete understanding passed between the pair. Off he went and she had a good minute, maybe more, to work up tears. Easily done, for again, as spoiled as she was she knew precisely what to do to work tears for her cause.

Her head dropped back, as another pretend wave of pain thrust up her ankle, into her leg and to her brain. Easily imagined. Rocking added to the effect of leaking eyes and a tightly clutched ankle. Breathing while she could, it wasn't until the sight of mustered elves and the taller still Rodolphus returned that she recalled the dramatics.

Left arm remained clutching the left ankle, as her hand reached for Rodolphus once more. The elves may have been there to help, but she wasn't going to dare touch them. "DON'T!" She hissed, as one tried to assess the wound. "Go get my mum!" She demanded from Rodolphus, also devising said plan for the sake he would have to go through the woods. Not as true to the original idea, but this was a girl who had to learn to think on the spot. All the better for duelling purposes later on the road.

Once Rodolphus had gotten away with the middle-aged elf and their figures were beginning to disappear in the darkness of the forest, she allowed herself to hobble onto her feet. All in order to at least make it to the patio, before departing them with an excuse that she no longer was in pain.

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For Merlin's sake, she truly was playing this up beautifully. Better than she had ever done before, she determined at that moment. Must have been the severity of the crime this elf had committed against Rodolphus. Well, actually, the excitement that they were to murder something so pathetic and weak yet larger than any other heart they had yet to dissect. It was almost human, in that matter. It spoke and it handled things just as a human would, but nothing more. Emotions were not allowed to the thing. Terror in a man's eyes would have to wait until later.

Playing now with pure disgust and pain, while the elves helped her hop to the patio. Her hands immediately left them when she could reach the stone rail, instead of their support. Using that moment to realize the pain placed on her ankle was nothing. For in all reality, it truly was nothing, she hesitated and looked to them.

One of the older elves reached out to her, offering to guide her further inside but she slapped its hand. "Do not touch me, filth!" Her eyes darted between them, as she stepped back again. Purposefully placing weight on her ankle. "I can make it back to my house. Never you mind. Back to work!" As though they were her possessions already, ordering them around so. Children did change their minds so quickly.

She spun around and darted off in the direction of the house. Making it to the forest until her quickened gait finally ceased. A smirk resting on a single corner of her mouth, all the while searching for the pair. "Rodolphus?" She called, in an too-sweetened whisper. When she located him, the grin turned into a bright smile to see the creature incapacitated.

"We are bloody brilliant."

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It made them wicked. Wicked in a way that a child's laugh could so easily be twisted into something so frightening. That's precisely what had happened, but neither noticed. No, Bellatrix only found it that much more endearing of her childhood playmate.

Hands folded behind her back, as she surveyed the scene around them. A fair enough clearing in the woods that meant they had decent light, but dense enough that neither Lestrange nor Black household could notice oddities. Her gaze lifted upwards, tilting her back as she stared at the sky. Plucking her wand from beneath her skirt, for already she had devised the perfect holding spot there on her thigh. She would not use it, no, but it was for effect. Gave her that feeling of complete power.

The thing pointed to a patch of leaves that seemed to have more colour, more light than the shadowy area Rodolphus had tackled the beast on. "Move him there." She smirked, waiting until the creature followed its master's orders before she knelt beside him, opposing Rodolphus' position.

"What's your name, beast? Do you know the severity of your crimes?" Oh, dear, so very wicked.

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Bellatrix maneuvered herself low over the thing, digging the tip of her wand into his stomach. As much as she wanted to see her reflection sneering back up at her through the whites of the elf's eyes, she couldn't honestly stand looking at the thing that long. Perhaps she'd later learn to favour such a prolonged stare, but now she was too bent on her higher status. Not to mention, Rodolphus had just used and awful word to substitute for the rat's name. Wicked eyes lifted to him, just as a giggle sounded. They may have been old souls, but there were a few things that never changed.

Mirroring his efforts, she watched as he pried open his mouth. Bellatrix's own jaw opened, trying not to laugh as she mocked the beast then with a look of completely feigned horror. The slicing sound alone sent a chill down her spine. This wasn't some forest creature, this was something with some value and purpose.

With the piece of tissue severed from the muscle, Bellatrix was all smiles. If the thing could cry, it certainly was trying. The pain there written on his face, mixed so heavily with utter fear. No one would save him. He was, after all, just a house elf. She quivered her lip, once again jeering against his favour, "Oh does it hurt, Mayfuck? Yes? Oh pity. We'll take..." She looked him over then grinned. "We'll take an eyelid next. SPEAK." Tip of the tongue, eyelids? She was going for the smallest of things, but one that would call immeasurable pain.

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To them, it was enough of an offence that deserved such extremities. As the blood rushed from his mouth, as though a very vein had been sliced, Bellatrix seemed void of that almost permanent grin she had before. Instead it was narrowed eyes and intense, borderline lustful stare. Although, at such a young age, she had not come to terms with the true definition of lust, but it was the closest thing to. As though teasing him were the best option, though she had no knowledge of even doing such, the tip of her own tongue slid over her lower level of teeth. Noting the difference and freedom she had yet the slave Mayfalk was to his pain.

Hardly glancing, she could feel Rodolphus' stare upon her. Without a word, she knew that he had the same thoughts as she. Like one hand causing the pain, one mind creating the torture. She was the mind and he was the hand. It was beautiful and fascinating, just like the crimson river seeping from a live soul.

Reaching over the elf, she gingerly took the knife from Rodolphus' hand. She had yet to acquire one of her own. And with complete intent on her victim and steadied hands like a surgeon, she used the left to pluck away the protective skin from the eye and the other to saw away until the flesh dangled between her fingers.

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Chin lifted, as the expression that took consumed her face rushed through every aspect of her body. Spine straightened, her jaw proud and yet there wasn’t a single, extraneous movement from the young girl. No extra energy would be wasted from here out. Her goal was set and there was no reason to stray her mind on something else.

Retracting with the stolen flesh, her eyes met her companion as though it were an exchanged joke only they could understand. Eyelid passed between wizards, even with a single brush of his hand. Touch was not needed, however, for at that moment they were connected despite the physical placement of Bellatrix on one side of the creature and Rodolphus on the other. Her smile was simple, but did not last long as she turned her attention back to the elf.

“Fingers,” with her own finger tapping against her mouth while in thought then she merely shook her head. “No. Too easy.” She passed off the knife, allowing Rodolphus a turn yet again. “Why don’t you carve your name on his belly? As a permanent reminder of whom he serves.”

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