Darkness folded around her like velvet.
Warm, soft, strangely comforting.
Then—
Light.
A childhood bedroom flooded with morning sun.
Two identical girls sat cross-legged on the carpet, wands held in chubby hands, the smell of burning curtains hanging in the air.
There you are, a voice whispered in her mind.
Stellatrix blinked.
Except… she wasn't Stellatrix in the dream.Not exactly.
She watched from within her own body—yet beside her, a girl with her same face, same hair, same crooked little smile, mimicked every movement.
Bellatrix.
Her twin.
Her other half.
"Again!" the child-Bella giggled, pointing at a toy knight.
Little Stella mirrored her, equally eager. Their spells overlapped, clashing in harmless sparks.
Together.
Always together.
The dream shifted—liquid, seamless.
The Black Sisters
Scenes flowed like memories seen through water:
Running down long hallways in Black Manor.Sharing a bed when thunderstorms woke them.Casting their first real spells.Being scolded by Druella for turning a tapestry into a writhing snake.
Every time Stella turned, Bella was there.
Laughing with her.
Crying with her.
Learning with her.
Twin, Stella thought dreamily. She was my twin… wasn't she?
But the dream did not answer.
It only moved.
Hogwarts
Sorting.
Two identical girls stepping forward—hand in hand—whispering back and forth about houses and pride and what their parents expected.
"Bellatrix Black," the hat called.
"Slytherin!"
"Stellatrix Black," the hat called next—
And Stella felt herself sit beneath the brim—felt the hat's voice whisper:
Brilliant. Obsessively loyal. Burning with talent. So very much like your sister—but so very different…
The memory dissolved before it could choose a house.
Suddenly she had a house.But also another.Sometimes green banners hung overhead...sometimes not.
Her mind didn't fracture——it wove.
Two possibilities braided into one.
She walked the halls of Hogwarts with Bella at her side, their steps the same rhythm.
Sometimes they studied together.Sometimes they caused trouble together.Sometimes they whispered late at night about the world they'd conquer one day.
We were inseparable, Stella realized.
But as the years flashed by, the warmth dimmed.
Not because she changed.
Because Bella did.
Her twin grew sharper.
Hungrier.
Her smiles turned into smirks.Her fascination with dark magic shifted into obsession.Her laughter became crueler—directed at first at students… then teachers… then anyone weaker.
And Stella—She followed.
At first because she couldn't imagine life without Bella.
Then because it was expected.
Then because she didn't know how to stop.
Graduation
Everything slowed.
Two identical girls stood in front of a mirror in their dormitory—robes immaculate, wands polished, futures unfolding like open jaws before them.
Bella's reflection looked feral with excitement.
"He's waiting for me," Bella breathed. "The Dark Lord wants promising witches. He sees me. He said I would be one of his chosen."
Stella felt her own heart stutter—but not with excitement.
"…Bells, we don't even know what he wants from the world. From us."
Bella shrugged, raven-black curls bouncing.
"Power. And why shouldn't we want it? We deserve more than our family ever allowed. More than this castle ever gave. Come with me. As we've always done."
Stella stared at her twin.
Her other self.
Her shadow.
The girl she had grown up within and alongside.
And she didn't know why her voice trembled when she whispered:
"I… don't want to serve someone. Anyone."
Bella's smile froze.
Hardened.
Cracked.
Then—
The dream rippled violently.
A flash.
A scream.
A wand pointed at her face.
Stella stumbled backward—
—and Bella lunged forward.
Pain burst behind Stella's eyes——white and merciless.
Her own memories blurred——shattered——smeared like wet paint.
Bella's voice echoed:
You can't leave me.
You belong with me.
You are mine.
"STOP!" dream-Stella cried, clutching her head as fragments of two futures collided.
One: standing beside Bella at the Dark Lord's feet.The other: lying somewhere cold. Silent. Forgotten.
Stella saw flashes—
Bella torturing a young Auror and laughing.Bella dueling Sirius and sneering.Bella killing.Bella killing.Bella killing—
Stella gasped.
"B—Bella… what did you do to me?"
But the memory blurred, warped—its edges eaten by fog.
She could no longer tell if Bella had hurt her physically——or if Bella had simply erased her.
Smothered her.
Absorbed her identity until nothing remained but one dominant, broken consciousness.
The dream darkened.
Bella's silhouette leaned over her, triumphant and monstrous.
"You don't need your own life," her twin whispered. "Just mine."
Stella tried to scream—
—
Rebirth
Light exploded.
Warm. Gold. Clean.
Her own memories—her true ones—began stitching themselves back together.
Childhood.Hogwarts.Graduation.Everything Bella had done—Stella witnessed but had not chosen.
The lives had merged—
—but the guilt had not.
The monster in the memories was never her.
Bella had been her reflection.
Her twin.
Her shadow.
But not her.
And the understanding broke something open in Stella's chest.
Something that felt like relief.
Something that felt like grief.
Something that felt like freedom.
Voices drifted around her, warm and distant—
You're safe.
You're home.
Nothing is wrong with you.
Sirius's voice.
Gentle. Steady. Real.
A tether pulling her back.
Stella reached for it—
—
Morning
She woke with a soft gasp.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, warm on her face.
Her body felt heavy but whole.Her mind felt like a tapestry newly repaired.
She blinked blearily.
And then she saw him.
Sirius Black.
Asleep—or possibly dead—in the chair beside her bed.
His head was tilted back at an impossible angle.One leg hung halfway off the chair.His arm dangled toward the floor.His mouth was open in a very undignified snore.
He looked like a man who had been hit with multiple Bludgers, several poor life decisions, and at least one bottle of firewhisky.
Stellatrix clapped a hand over her mouth.
A tiny, helpless giggle escaped.
Another followed.
Then a third.
Because for the first time in her entire life—in both lives—
she felt…
Light.
Warm.
Safe.
And the man who had stayed all night watching over her—
looked utterly ridiculous.
She hugged the blanket closer, giggling again as Sirius snorted in his sleep.
"…Sirius," she whispered fondly."You're an absolute mess."
But her voice was warm.
And grateful.
And hers.