Headcanon #1 - Bellatrix Black had always been a little off her rocker, but it wasn't until her second miscarriage that she went completely mad with bloodlust.

I knock quietly at my sister's door, one of the hundreds lining the walls of St. Mungo's, scared that she will tell me to enter, but even more frightened that she won't. Her voice, cracked and hoarse, calls softly back. "Come in, Sissy."

The door creaks open, as I hesitantly enter the room. It's still showing scars from last night's incident, but the magic of this place will soon erase them. The marks left on Bella, though, will not erase nearly as quickly. Or perhaps at all. "Good morning," I say, trying to be cheerful, but I'm not surprised when she snaps at me.

"Why on earth would it be a good morning?"

Oddly, she doesn't even sound angry, just tired. Like she can't stand another moment of pain, of time here. It breaks my heart.

"Do you remember what happened last night, Bella?"

"Bits. I remember the screaming. Lights. Pain. So much pain. And blood. so much blood"

"Do you remember what happened to you and your..." I hesitated for too long.

"My son? He died, before he was even alive."

"Yes."

There is so much pain in that single syllable.

This isn't the first time we've been in this room, having this conversation. Nearly a year ago, Bella had lost another child, a girl, who had been born fine, at least for Bella. But she had had a heart deformity that killed her before she had seen ten minutes.

And after that, just like last night, Bella had gone insane, shooting curses out of her hand, blood streaming from both nostrils, stunning Rodolphus, hexing the Healer, and screaming so much that she nearly lost her voice. I still dream of her, sitting on the floor, her voice one long unbroken wail, clawing at her own skin.

My sister has always been a little bit on edge since we were young. But I have never seen her so unhinged. When we were younger, and she got upset, she would black out like this, work herself up until she passed out, and she would wake up with no memory of what had happened. As we got older, her blackouts got less and less frequent, but more and more violent.

And I'm the only one who can calm her.

Last night was the worst black out she's ever had. She tore herself apart with the amount of pure magical energy she expelled. I doubt she could levitate a feather right now. She used so much of her life force, breathing all of her magic into her still born son, that she nearly disintegrated before my eyes. But what was worse was that the energy literally tore through her son's flesh and bone, destroying him.

All she ever wanted was an heir, a pureblood son to carry on her legacy, a pureblood addition to wizardry. She never was the kind one, that was always me, but she's always wanted kids. She adores my son, Draco, who's only about four months. But she's jealous of me for him, too.

I think that after this she'll never try again. She's lost too much of herself to this vain hope to add to pureblood society. A month after our conversation, she single-handedly carried out the largest mass killing ever, in the name of the Dark Lord. I think she's thrown herself into his service, to do as much as she can for purebloods before she goes the same way as her son.

At this point, she does not care if she lives or dies, and it's completely terrifying. Even I fear her now. Her black outs have become so frequent, she's insane more often than not, and her curses are the most diverse, painful, and strong of anyone.

The Dark Lord is impressed with her. I am terrified of her. My sister, the darling I grew up with, who I love, is nearly gone, replaced by this terror. The only things that calm her me, and Draco. She adores him. But I fear she'll try to get him to join her in her mad crusade.

Don't get me wrong, I'll do anything to help my sister. But even when I can bring her out of her bloodlust, the guilt of what she's done is destructive, and she takes it out on herself.

In the end, I am the weak one, because I'm choosing the greater of two evils. I will let my sister continue down this rage strewn path because if I pull her from it, the guilt will kill her. Perhaps literally. And I am a coward, but I would rather have her alive and a vestige of herself than not have her at all. Besides, she kills only in the Dark Lord's name.