She thought it was two forces tugging at each other and she was right and wrong. They were fighting, trying to win dominance. She thought she could just win. A snap to, quick and efficient. It’s a slow takeover. A merging. Who she thinks she is and who she is. Two identities fighting until the other is no more. She isn’t sure when it happened, when one came out victorious, but it did happen. Perhaps it was when she woke up with blood on her hands, perhaps it’s when she murdered McGonagall, maybe it was the first time Bellatrix laid eyes on her.