Yay! I finally got this all done and stuff! It's written for the 'My Favorite Subject Competition' on the HPFC forum. :D

I've never written Bellatrix before, so I'm hoping it comes off okay, and I hope you guys like it! Reviews are lovely, if you'd take the time! :]

"Miss Black!" the strict voice of Professor McGonagall barked from the front of the classroom. A few of the students snapped out of the trance they were in, listening to McGonagall speak.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and turned away from Lucius, whom she was talking with in quiet whispers. She thought, not for the first time, that the woman must have sharpened hearing. They were sitting in the back of the classroom, as far away from her as they could get. Regardless, she forced a look of pleasant calmness on her face and said, "Yes Professor?"

"You would do well to pay attention in class! How do you expect to do better at Transfiguration if you don't listen to how it is to be done?" McGonagall lectured sternly.

"Sorry Professor," Bellatrix said, droning the Professor's words out. McGonagall gave her a classic glare before turning back to the armadillo she was demonstrating with.

Bellatrix turned back to Lucius, who snorted in amusement. He grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote 'Yeah, Bella. Pay attention.'

She sneered at him and grabbed the parchment out of his hands, scribbling down her response. 'Just because you're some kind of Transfiguration genius. My marks aren't even that bad. I always get at least an A!'

After he read it, Lucius gave her a critical look. 'Really? The filthy muggle over there gets straight O's' he wrote back.

Bellatrix glared over at the muggle scum sitting a few rows in front of them. She never was very good at Transfiguration, and she positively hated it, but she did always try to keep her marks decent. But to have a mudblood like that beat her? 'That little piece of filth is a Gryffindor. She's in McGonagall's pocket. The rest of us have to work twice as hard.'

'Be that as it may, no mudblood should score better than a pureblood!' Lucius answered, his facial expression showing the clear revulsion he felt towards the mudbloods.

Bellatrix glared at the note, wishing it would burst into flames. Lucius was right, of course. She found Transfiguration much harder than the other classes she was taking. And it seemed like McGonagall almost avoided her at times, like the teacher thought there was something dangerous about her, and didn't want to be around her. That made her slightly proud of herself. Though, if her grades were suffering…

'Of course not,' she wrote down. 'She won't be beating me for long.' She shoved the note back over at Lucius, who read it and raised an eyebrow at her. But she turned to stare resolutely up at McGonagall, focusing her attention. She was determined to improve her scores, no matter what it took.

~A Few Years Later~

"Crucio!" Bellatrix screamed, flourishing her wand. The man on the ground in front of her screamed in agony, and she cackled happily. He didn't deserve an office or a title in the Ministry. He deserved to be wiping the slime off her shoes. She let out another high pitched laugh as a renewed bout of screaming came from him.

She was in a rather secluded part of the Ministry, in the man's office. She had locked and sound proofed the room before she had started in on him. Not that anyone would come looking for him, anyways. He was one of those people who aren't very important, but are still allowed to know all the important top secret information. Yet he was also a weak, spineless thing, and she knew she could break him.

And eventually, she did. He broke down and told her what she wanted to know between sobs, begging her to stop. The sight of him weak and broken on the floor, begging at her feet pleased her immensely.

Her instructions from her Master were to get the information they needed and dispose of the evidence. She laughed again, loving the way the slime at her feet cringed as her voice hit his ears. She was satisfied with the information she had extracted from him, and knew it was time to leave her mark.

She couldn't allow this insect to stay alive, of course. He would be able to reveal that he had divulged the top secret plans, and that just wouldn't do. She grinned, ideas flashing through her head.

"Alright, you filthy muggle," she sneered at him. "You know what's coming next, don't you?"

"Please…" he sobbed slowly. He made a useless attempt to crawl across the floor, away from her. She laughed at the fact that he didn't have the strength to.

"I can't let you go running your mouth off, now can I?" she asked with contempt.

"I won't," he whimpered quietly. "I promise."

"Oh, of course you won't," she said, kneeling down and grabbing his face in her hand, letting her overly long fingernails dig into the delicate flesh on his cheeks.

"Please!" he said desperately, attempting to pull her hand away. She laughed at his feeble strength again; she barely had to fight him to let her hand remain there. She finally pulled away after a moment, wiping off the small amounts of blood dotting each fingernail.

"Look at your filthy blood," she said sneeringly. The man lay on the ground weeping, refusing to open his eyes. "Not to matter. You'll be seeing a lot more of it soon."

"No!" the man moaned, his eyes flying open. They were wide with fear, and she stared into them, her own flashing with excitement.

"You're a filthy muggle. Why not dispose of you the way that those vermin do each other?" she said, evil grin residing on her features.

"Oh god," the man said, complexion paling even further. "Oh god, please no."

She let out a low, throaty laugh. Fingering her wand, she stood up and moved over to his desk where a statue of a proud serpent was set. She sneered and quickly pulled the serpent off of the wooden base, picking up the metal coils and running her fingers along them.

The man was watching her with wide tearstained eyes. She jabbed her wand at the metal snake and watched as the metal began twisting around and flattening itself. It elongated and smoothed out, the mouth opening into a snarl. The neck turned into a textured handle, the tail into a sharp blade.

As soon as the man realized what it was becoming, his pathetic blubbering increased. And as she repeatedly drove the metal hilt of the new dagger into the man's stomach and slashed at the rest of him with the uneven edge of the blade, she couldn't help but think…

Maybe Transfiguration isn't so bad after all.

Also, thanks to Whitewolf200056 for being an awesome beta for this! :] She's got a really great HP story going on right now called 'Reading the First Book', so go check it out!