Prologue
Birth of a new light, or perhaps... Darkness?
(Mere days before the last battle of Hogwarts)
She went into labour early.
Actually, it was quite a relief. If her son was to be given birth late, she might not be able to witness the most delicious murder of all - the death of Harry Potter.
"The Dark Lord will succeed, definitely! By that time, he will forgive me for breeding this worm... "
The truth was Bellatrix Lestrange felt terrified of the consequences if her Lord knew she was carrying his flesh and blood, the only heir of Salazar Slytherin.
When she first realised she was pregnant, she had immediately decided to kill the creature. But, it was the child of the greatest man ever lived, the son of He Who Must Not Be Named himself! It was very, very precious. Should she kill it, still?
Fear... Power...
Eventually, greed and desire overpowered the terror, which Bellatrix was not quite familiar with...
In an attempt to hide the birth from the Dark Lord, Bellatrix Lestrange fled to a muggle territory to give birth alone. Alas, she had absolutely no idea how to.
It seemed like a terribly long time of suffering before her body finally gave in to the exhaustion.
She fainted.
Not long after, a nurse that just knocked off a nearby hospital spotted a lifeless body and immediately brought it to the hospital. Fortunately, through operation the newborn she had been carrying was delivered, with quite a bit of effort, but nonetheless safely. The mother was fine as well, only unconscious at the moment.
The next day, as the nurse went to the mother's ward to inform her of the good news of a healthy baby boy, she was surprised to find Bellatrix not in her bed. Looking around, she spotted her at the side of the room, like a tiger ready to pounce on its prey.
The realisation dawned on her only too late.
There was a loud bang, a flash of green light accompanied by a dreadful scream of triumph, and the poor nurse lay motionless on the carpeted hospital flooring.
Bellatrix grinned at the sight. It was not like her to kill without torturing, but she had to admit this way was rather fun too.
Just then, the dark mark on her left arm seared. "Ahh... The Dark Lord requires my assistance..." she murmured. With that, she disappeared, anxious to do her master's bidding.
Carelessly dropped, the only thing left was a ring - a heirloom, bearing the symbol of the prestigious Black family.