Warning: Rated M(ature) for explicit language, sexual content, instances of complete disregard for canon and dark themes including incest, mentions of non-con and possibly triggering situations. Please consider yourself warned. :-)
Disclaimer: I wasn't a part of the creation of Harry Potter, therefore, I cannot make any claims to fame with HP fanfic. *sigh*
i.
Cold shrouded the Azkaban fortress.
Buried deep inside of Azkaban's howls of misery and stench of death laid Bellatrix Lestrange, her fine ebony curls splayed across the blood stained stone. Already, Azkaban had begun to take its toll. Once bright eyes, now dulled and ringed in violet, her youthful beauty taken in exchange for yellow teeth and hollowed cheeks.
The cold here was impermeable, the Dementors floating by every so often, delighting in the wails, the shrieks and more so, the call of death gleefully claiming the lives of prisoners like of a child gathering flowers for a bouquet.
Azkaban had robbed Bellatrix of everything but her sanity. The temptation was great; to finally drift away into the irresistible realm of Mania. But the babe that slept on her tit that had, by some miracle of Merlin, managed to enter the rickety gates of Azkaban, undetected, had remained the anchor that bound her soul to reality. This child was her ultimate and perhaps final sacrifice to her Lord.
Raising a marred forearm to her stained teeth, she tore at her faded Dark Mark, soaking up the mingled taste of blood and His essence in one lascivious sweep of her tongue.
Blackness oozed from her arm, and with one swift motion of her claw, the forehead of her firstborn split open in a gash, her silken skin parting like a hot knife through butter. His essence now ran down the crook of Bellatrix's arm, the droplets gathered into the opening of her child's wound.
The infant began to wail, her tears splashing down small cheeks. Bellatrix lifted the child heavenwards and began to chant:
Blood runs through and blood runs free,
by my hand I sacrifice thee.
Set your spirit free,
blood runs through and blood runs free.
Old Magic, Blood Magic, whatever it was that you wanted to call it, now ran through the veins of Bellatrix's fated child, her cursed sacrilege.
Unfastening the delicate chain of her pendant, Bellatrix drew in her breath and hissed the sacred language of the snake, that only apprenticeship with her beloved Master privileged her to learn.
Now the ritual was complete; Bellatrix's necklace encircled the soft neck of her baby, powerful magic radiating from within the core of the amulet.
The infant now carried on the legacy of her Lord, the darkest and most fearsome wizard that would ever be known to the magical world.
Bellatrix sat back limp, her magical core exhausted, but most importantly, her mission accomplished. Finally, finally, she could allow herself to slip over the edge of her hellish reality and into the clutches of Mania.
"Mira," Bellatrix uttered before throwing her head back and shrieking like all the prisoners before her who'd embarked past sanity.
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Hello and welcome to my first (ever) fanfic! This chapter is a prelude of sorts to the story which will take off from chapter ii. Hope you enjoy!
Camille x