The Diary of Bellatrix Lestrange

The Madness Begins

November 17

Regulus stormed out of the house last night followed by Kreacher. He didn't say a word, instead he left. I tried to stop him, but he shoved me aside and continued on his way. Everyone is worried about him. I tried to question Tom about where he was, but he told me not to worry about him. I'm afraid something will happen to him.

December 1

Kreacher came home today, without Regulus. He looked as if he had been crying, but why we couldn't understand. When he was questioned, we discovered Regulus was dead.

I fell to my knees in sobs. That was all that was heard throughout the house. I ran to my room, locking the door behind me. I leaned against the door, and began crying once again. He promised me he wouldn't get hurt. I should have stopped him. I should have made sure he never got involved.

As I'm writing this, is sit in almost darkness. My best friend is dead. I have nothing else in this house to keep me here, besides my sisters. His life is no more, so why should I let others live? My greatness will be known, because my dear cousin's will not.

December 2

Regulus was buried today. Well, he was made a plot beside the rest of our family. We have not been able to recover his body.

His portrait still hangs in his room where he left it. It smirks from its frame at anyone who enters. The pictures of all of us in my room smile at me with a new level of pain. My cousin is gone, but his memories still haunt us all. I'll miss him so much. It's hard to believe he's gone.

December 14

Time passes by as if it isn't real. I miss Regulas, more than I can explain. I blame myself, although it isn't my fault. He did this on his own.

Sirius grieves in his own ways. He hardly leaves his room, or so my aunt says. I hardly care. I don't leave mine either, instead staying locked up.

The little ones don't understand the gravity of the situation, but I do. I am the only one who knows why he really died. And I will take it to my grave.

December 17

Tom watches me through the meeting we hold late at night. Shrouded in darkness, I no longer see the boy I love. I see someone cold and dark. The man who send my cousin to his death.

I know he had a hand in it, but I say nothing. Instead I smile and do what I'm told, just as I always have.

There is no reason to mourn someone who went to their own death. That's what the others say, at least. They continue forward, even as I am held back by my own grief and loathing. I'm surprised no one has noticed my absence of mind, although I'm no one's focus.

I want to go back.

Back to when my cousin was alive. When I had no worries. When I wasn't married to a man I hardly have feelings for.

Back to when I had not met Tom Riddle.