Preface;

It was a cold night on October 31st of 1981. The day before, nearly the entire Wizarding World had been afraid to step out of the protection of their homes, due to the raging war. However, at dawn the news would be out, and all magic folk would be rejoicing. The Dark Lord had been destroyed, and soon, every Death Eater would have either been hunted down, or forced into hiding for self-preservation.

Diagon Alley was quiet as stone as Bellatrix LeStrange silently slipped into Borgin & Burkes, going unnoticed with the toddler in her grasp. She walked swiftly to the back, and as she expected, he was waiting there for her.

"Things didn't go according to plan," she said sternly.

"I heard," he replied in monotone.

"Do you know what this means? We'll all be executed! Or worse, Azkaban!" she said fiercely, brushing her wild black hair from her eyes. "Except you," she added in a whisper, "Which is why you must care for Lucinda."

"What? Have you gone mad? The risks-"

"Who cares about the bloody risks!" she shrieked, "Would you rather the Ministry get ahold of her?"

"What of Narcissa? If she finds out about us-"

"She won't. As far as she's concerned, Rodolphus is the father." Bellatrix stated simply, "I will hear no more. Take her," she gently put her one year old daughter into his arms. She kissed her on her pale forehead, "I bid thee farewell. My love for you, Lucinda Ann LeStrange, will never diminish..." she looked at the father of her child, "Until we meet again, Lucius" she stroked his cheek with one swift movement. She turned around, but before she could leave, Lucius caught her arm.

"But Narcissa-" he began again.

"Will understand," she finished.

All that was left of Bellatrix was a shattered window and a cloud of thick, black smoke as she apparated out of the antique shop.

Lucius gazed down at his daughter and saw wide, familiar silver eyes. They were his own. Of course, what would Narcissa think? How would she feel when she found out that the child of her dearest sister, Bellatrix, was the offspring of her own husband? No, she would not find out. It was a secret he was willing to keep. Why wouldn't he?

Lucius glanced around, and with a deep sigh, he cradled the petite toddler in his arms. Today was her first birthday, and despite her age, black ringlets cascaded to the nape of her neck. Lucinda's stormy eyes glistened in the dim light as she curled up within her father's embrace, slowly closing her eyes and letting sleep steal her away.

…

Lucius apparated home and immediately sought Narcissa to inform her of the Dark Lord's fall, and the new addition to their family. She already knew that Lucinda existed, but what she didn't know was that Lucius was the real father. Of course she'd never expect it, though. So, in Narcissa's eyes, Lucinda was Bellatrix's and Rodolphus' daughter, and she needed to be raised as a Malfoy in order for her safety. Rodolphus was dead, and Bellatrix would be off to Azkaban within the hour if the Ministry caught up to her. Lucinda had no one left, so Narcissa welcomed her with open arms, offering her the same amount of love and affection she had shown her own son, Draco.

Lucinda's new identity must be devised, thus, for her own protection; she became Lucinda Ann Malfoy, the daughter of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, and she'd be Draco's twin sister. However, to ensure that there is no doubt in Lucinda's ancestry, Lucius cast a glamour charm on her. He pulled out his wand, lay the tip gently on her forehead and softly spoke the incantation; the magical words elegantly rolling from his tongue. Slowly, without disturbing the child's sleep, the glamour charm came to its full effect. Each strand of Lucinda's wild hair began to lighten and stretch. Within a few breathless moments, her once dark, thick curls were now bleached blonde and pin straight. Only her eyes, under those pale, heavy lids, remained the same.

No one shall ever know of her true origins; the child who should have been sentenced to death, even before the moment she took her first breath, simply because of the blood that pulsed through her veins.