Bellatrix was sitting in front of the Shrieking Shack, her silver eyes zooming across the building's dilapidated boards, watching as something moved ever so slightly with nothing to cause it. She wondered if it was really haunted. For some reason, she doubted it. It was highly unlikely, unless someone was murdered in it and their soul didn't want to move on.
Shrugging to herself, she stood up, wiping of her school robes and then darting excitedly inside of the building. The chills that ran down her spine made her tremble with intrigue. The smile on her lips stayed there for a while, and she laughed wickedly, watching a rat run across the floor towards a hole in the wall.
"Silly mongrel," she whispered, "I won't hurt you. Come out and play." She wanted something to kill. She was growing more and more insane by the day for not having anything to murder. It was highly irritating.