So it apppears I may have accidentally deleted this story in the place of another I was trying to get rid of on my account. It's painfully obvious that I am a huge idiot. Now that I've deleted the right story, I'll reupload this. There will be a few minor changes but everything is virtually the same. I hope you enjoy! Tell me what you think?
And in other slightly irrelevant news, no one wants to see the Deathly Hallows pt 2 premiere with me. I do believe I need nerdier friends...
Chapter 1: Artemis
She was born to a pair that had neither want nor any need for her. This she was aware of, even at a fairly young age.
The conception happened at a most inconvenient time. The wizarding world was facing one of the greatest wars it had ever seen. Lord Voldemort or, as his devout followers called him, the Dark Lord was quickly gaining strength. All across Europe people were dying at his hands, or those of his followers. His aim was to rid the world of Muggles, half bloods, and Muggleborns. For a while it appeared he was finally having his way—and that was what scared people the most.
The Dark Lord was feared above all else, even more so than Grindelwald, whose name still brings chills to the wizards and witches that experienced his wrath. And now those living during the time of the First Wizarding War were faced with a constant daily fear. Anyone could be next, unless you were a pureblood. Muggles were ignorant to the problem. Half bloods and those born to Muggle parents were terrified. So scared, in fact, they never once said his name. They only referred to him in passing as "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named". The followers of the Darkest wizard to ever grace the planet, known to the world as Death Eaters, were pleased with this turn of events. They could finally create the world they imagined was deserved of them.
There were two Death Eaters who were thought to be the Dark Lord's most loyal. One of the pair, however, was the most feared. Over the years she gained a sort of respect from her master, which only fueled the inane love she felt for him. Her husband, the other loyal follower, found her desire for their master rather foolish. After all, he wasn't the one married to her.
It dawned on him one day that he did not have an heir. He needed a little boy to carry on the family name, someone who could help the Lestrange family to survive. Without that, what would become of them? They would be lost among the many pureblood families that died out along the years. That just could not happen. His family was far too prestigious to simply disappear as if they never even existed.
He told his fears to his wife one day after they raided a lowly Muggle village. She stood before him, eyes staring intently as he made his speech. When he was finished speaking, she erupted into laughter. Her cackling rang through the house, echoing in his ears. His vision became tinted with red as he watched her, still chuckling heartily, point at him in amusement and vanish from the room. Sometimes he truly wondered why he married her, only to remember it was done for the "good of the family". Which is why she needed to supply him with a little Lestrange immediately.
He waited for her. He always found himself waiting for her. This time, however, he was not alone. An empty bottle of firewhiskey lay discarded at his feet as he slumped over in the plush upholstered chair his mother insisted on him acquiring. His fingers trailed the smooth material, fingering the tiny threads that were coming undone, quite like he himself was. He was losing it, he admitted to himself. Being married to her was driving him insane. But she was a Black. Paired with his surname, marrying a Black gave him even more credibility. So he would lose his mind, if only to uphold his family's status.
She arrived a little past midnight, a smug smile plastered on her face. The look dimmed somewhat as she caught sight of him and the smell wafting off of his sleeping form. It was positively rancid and wholly intolerable. He was drunk and nothing good could surely come from this. She silently tiptoed past him, praying to Merlin he would not wake up. She thought she was home free as she bounded to the stairs until her foot collided with the bottle of liquor, sending it crashing into a million pieces as it hit the wall.
"Bella," he mumbled sleepily. Her breath caught. She instantly moved away but his hand caught her wrist. "Bella, I love you. I want you."
She tried to yank herself free from his grip but it was to no avail. He was fully awake now. He pulled himself up and came closer. His eyes were alive with a deep burning lust and for a moment, Bellatrix found herself frozen in fear. The fact that for once in her life she was afraid scared her even more.
Rodolphous pulled her towards him, his breath hot on her neck. He kissed her. She pushed him away. He grabbed her face and kissed her again. She flailed about, cursing herself for leaving her wand on the dining room table in a momentary lack of judgment.
"Mind yourself, woman," he murmured in his husky voice. His eyes bore into hers and she stopped moving. "This is the reason you married me, is it not?"
As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. This was the point of marriage in the first place, after all. They needed to keep the race going. She promised her mother she would create another little pureblooded drone she could raise and style into a person of society's standards. It must be done. She dreaded the thought of what was going to happen but she gave in, making the act consensual. So she allowed her husband to drag her up the stairs and all but push her onto the bed. She allowed herself to be used for the purpose of creating another life. She allowed him to stroke her long wild hair when he was finished with her.
The only pleasure she got out of the experience was the fist to the nose she gave him along with her warning him to never touch her again. His face spouted blood and she refused to fix it, leaving his once handsome features slightly distorted.
Nine months later, Bellatrix was experiencing the worst thing in her entire life. She cursed Rodolphous to the lowest, fieriest pits of hell. Her mother and sister were positioned on either side of her, holding a hand and keeping the hair out of her sweaty face. A practiced Healer (the best money could buy) was trying to comfort her with words of the finality of the event. All the while she kicked and screamed in a very unladylike manner, shouting at her husband who was sitting in the next room with the other husbands.
Her mother grew frustrated with her behavior and had the audacity to smack her sharply across her cheek. Silence prevailed as Bella and Cissa stared in shock at Druella. Then Bellatrix realized the pain was diverted from the labor to her face, a pain she could handle, if only for a moment. Once it died down and she was thrown back into the unbearable hurt she began acting up again. She shouted at her mother, begged her to slap her again, hit her, do anything, anything if it would make the pain go away. Narcissa shook her head, suppressing a chuckle. Her sister could be very dramatic.
The birth was excruciating. After the first few hours, Druella began to pity her daughter, for her own labor was not nearly as horrible as this. That should have been a sign right then and there that this child would be nothing but trouble. Several long hours later, a baby came into the world, screaming its lungs off. Bellatrix, highly relieved, fell back into her pillows. She took one look at the shriveled thing with obscene vocals and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Had that truly come out of her?
The midwife bundled the baby in a blue blanket, cooing sweet words at it. Bellatrix rolled her eyes. The woman seemed absolutely ridiculous. The baby was handed to her and she looked at it, boredom etched into her face. Just as Rodolphous entered, however, another emotion took over. Rodolphous found the confusion in his wife's eyes and immediately looked to his child, brimming with pride at the birth of the Lestrange heir. He stopped in his tracks, slowly sinking onto the bed beside Bella. They shared a startled glance. Something was most certainly wrong. Or rather, something was missing, that something being the difference between a male and a female. Their new child was a girl.
Discovering that they had created a female rather than the desired male had sent Bellatrix into a rage.
"I went through hell and for what?" she exclaimed loudly, depositing the child into her sister's eager arms.
"But all is not lost, Bella!" Narcissa tried consoling her.
"How are we supposed to keep the Lestrange name alive?" Rodolphous asked miserably. Then he perked up. "Perhaps we shall try again?"
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Bellatrix snapped. "Or do you want me to fix your nose and then break it again, you bloody bastard!"
"Watch your tongue Bella," Druella admonished, gathering the first grandchild she would actually acknowledge in her arms. "You seem to be forgetting that I never had a son."
"You didn't need one! You had me and Cissa!"
"But no one to carry on the Black name."
"There's always that blood traitor Sirius," Rodolphous reminded her. The three women visibly cringed. "We on the other hand…if we don't have a son, there is no guarantee my brother will have a child to carry on the name. We're doomed." He hung his head in sorrow.
"Oh, grow up," his wife said quite rudely, smacking him on the back of the head. "Why don't you be useful and get out so I can rest?"
Rodolphous shot her a cold glare. "Don't you want to name the girl?"
She shrugged. "Why bother? She's of no use to me."
Narcissa gasped. "You can't be serious? Are you to neglect the child simply because of what she cannot do? She's not quite a day old yet and you've already made up your mind?"
"Cissy, what am I supposed to do with a girl?" Bellatrix asked, saying the last word as if it were something filthy.
"The same thing I did," Druella responded, a note of finality in her voice. "I loved you and your sisters, even if it wasn't what I was expecting and I still love you both." No one said anything about the fact that she conveniently left out one sister. "Name the girl and treat her right for if you don't, I want nothing to do with you Bellatrix. She has done nothing wrong, at least not yet. We've no idea how she will turn out. If you raise her right we can avoid another slipup such as your other sister or your cousin. Do you understand me?"
Bellatrix nodded numbly. "Yes mother."
"Now for a name. What did you have in mind?"
Rodolphous ran a hand through his dark hair. "Well for a boy I wanted him to be called Artemis."
They all gazed at the sleeping baby girl held tightly by her grandmother whose eyes held nothing but admiration.
"She's lovely," Druella whispered. Narcissa nodded in agreement but the Lestranges raised their eyebrows. "I do believe Artemis would be a suitable name."
"But it sounds so masculine," Bella commented.
"Artemis was a female, you know," Narcissa said but no one paid any attention to her.
"I don't know if we should just pass on the name we would've given our son. What if we do have a boy and the name suits him more?"
"Are you saying there's hope?" Rodolphous asked eagerly.
"In your dreams."
He frowned and slumped back in his seat, arms crossed.
"I say you just call her Artemis," Narcissa suggested.
"I believe it's fitting," Druella agreed, handing the newly named girl over to her mother.
Bellatrix shifted the blankets out of the baby's face and gazed at the little thing. Her eyes were open and mother couldn't help but notice the intuitive nature her daughter's stare held, especially for such a young thing. She yawned suddenly, startling Bellatrix. Her button nose scrunched up with the action and her hands closed unconsciously around her mother's finger. Bella had to confess she was kind of cute. Only a little.
"Welcome to the world Artemis Lestrange," she whispered as the baby's eyes closed once more.
/
Growing up with the Lestranges had been no easy feat. Artemis Lestrange knew they did not love her – they merely tolerated her presence. They gave her the necessary tools of survival but they did not give her the affection she craved, at least not at the start. Perhaps that is why she became the way she is.
Rodolphous never showed neither like nor dislike for her. He remained completely indifferent to her existence, though there was always a slight iciness to his behavior around his daughter. She craved his attention, wanting nothing more than to be held in his arms like the sons and daughters of his friends were. At times she would climb into his lap as he sat in his favorite armchair reading and wrap her little arms around his neck. In a good mood he would leave her and pretend she wasn't even there. In a bad mood he would sneer and shove her off. When he did this she'd huff in irritation and storm off, knocking a vase down along the way. Rodolphous would merely sigh and continue his reading.
Bellatrix, however, displayed an overt hatred to Artemis. When the tiny girl ran about the lawns giggling like mad she would glare daggers, shouting out of the window that she was being far too loud. When Artemis tested her like she did her father by sidling onto her lap, Bellatrix would stand and laugh as her daughter fell to the ground with a thud. She'd often be overheard telling her family how much of a disgrace Artemis was to the family, that she would never amount to a thing. And when her only child expressed the (dying) love she felt for her mother, Bellatrix would tell her love is a pointless emotion and she should stop being so stupid. The young girl tried her hardest to become immune to her parents' treatment, to the dirty looks and harsh words, to the stories of how much she was a disappointment, to the constant reminders of how different she was.
Artemis Lestrange was indeed an odd child. She was tiny, much smaller than others her age. Her hair was a tangled mass of dark black curls, much like her mother. Her eyes were a mixture of an icy blue and a stormy gray, a combination of both her parents. She gained her father's intelligence, becoming the smartest child in the present pureblood society. It became quite clear, though, that she had her mother's temperament.
At a young age she was introduced to a former Hogwarts professor who became her tutor. He was the first person, beside her aunt Narcissa, who showed her any kind of affection. It was from him she learned to read, speak fluent French, and play piano. One afternoon as her parents returned from their meeting with the Dark Lord she serenaded them with Beethoven's "For Elise" as she recited a new poem she learned in French. She had the vain hope that this act would win them over. As she watched their retreating backs with a frown she realized that maybe her mother was right—she was stupid.
So she avoided them at all cost, instead accompanying her aunt to tea at an acquaintance's home. She was made into the perfect little girl squeezed into flouncy little sundresses with impeccable poise and manners. The elder women drooled over her, passing her back and forth as they squealed with excitement over how "simply divine" she was or looked on with envy as they had all been unfortunate enough (or lucky in her mother's opinion) to have sons rather than little girls they could dress up. They displaced all of their lost affection on her and she initially loved it. But then everyone knew her temper, as she grew irritated with the whole act.
Artemis was a danger to the world, something no one wanted to admit upon first sight. She was perhaps the loveliest child anyone could lay eyes on. Her looks greatly resembled her mother, who was a true beauty. But, as so clearly noted, she was an exact copy of Bellatrix down to the behavior. When her temper flared, one would do best to avoid her at all cost. A rather dimwitted woman of pureblood society by the name of Nettie Goyle made the mistake of getting on the young child's bad side at a function put on by the Malfoy family, resulting in her arm being magically broken in three different locations. Another time, a little boy called Alfred Witter went so far as to bully Artemis into getting his way. He was found struggling in a large tree, a vine wrapped tightly around his throat. On a different occasion, a man and his wife insulted her parents and were nearly burned to death. Completely spooked, they relocated their family to Ireland under a different name.
No one suspected a thing. Every occurrence was believed to be a sick joke, or even a horrible accident. But someone began to notice the coincidences. Every "accident" happened to someone who had wronged the youngest Lestrange in some way. Every person was hurt after they did something to anger her. Fingers were being pointed. Accusations were being made. The women of the society shunned her. The men looked at her in a bit of a fearful awe. The children cowered in fear under her steely gaze. Bellatrix knew her daughter was the cause of the harm but she was still angered by the allegations and maltreatment directed at the girl (was that her maternal instinct kicking in?).
She was angry, that is, until he caught wind of it.
The Dark Lord saw great promise in young Artemis Lestrange. She was sharp, cunning, and incredibly powerful. She would be of great value to him once she was older, that he was sure of. Perhaps she would be his greatest asset in his mission of reigning over the Wizarding world. There was no doubt her parents would be thrilled, particularly her mother.
Maybe Bellatrix finally loved her once she heard this. Maybe only a little.
Artemis demonstrated a great blood lust that gave Bellatrix immense pride. She would gladly perform a harmful hex on another so long as it provided her the pleasure of seeing someone, preferably a filthy Muggle-born, squirm like the rubbish they were. Or perhaps she would torture a rodent she discovered in the forest just outside of her home when she grew bored. Bellatrix loved her opinions on lowly beings almost as much as her actions against them.
Cygnus and Druella, though disappointed that their eldest had not bore a male heir, invited the Lestrange family over to their home for tea. Druella would not admit it to anyone but she was rather eager to meet Artemis. She did not care of her sex; she was merely thrilled that she finally had a grandchild (she still refused to consider Andromeda's child family). So when she subtly shoved aside her daughter and son-in-law after hugging them briefly, she couldn't help the warm smile that spread across her face as her eyes fell on the girl for the second time in her life. There was a tiny scowl etched onto her beautiful face but a hint of wonder in the startling gray eyes that surveyed the Black home. She tugged at the uncomfortable blue dress her mother wrestled her into as her grandmother watched her intently. The stare was causing her a great deal of discomfort. But Druella could not look away. This child, the tiny girl, looked so much like her first two daughters, particularly Bellatrix. Her breath caught as she gently stroked the wild curls held up with a blue silk ribbon.
"It is lovely to meet you, Artemis," she murmured.
Artemis told her how pleased she was to meet her as well and bravely stepped forward into the home. "Why do you keep those?" she asked.
Everyone looked toward the direction her tiny hand pointed.
"It is how they wish to be represented after death," Cygnus answered. His response did not seem to suit her as she frowned while eyeing the house elf heads lining the wall with obvious contempt.
"But do you truly think they deserve it?" she pressed, turning to her grandparents. "They're not even human. They're little creatures that are nothing but slaves to serve wizards. Do they deserve such noble dignity? Do you think so highly of them as to grant them a wish of decorating your home, something that seems to be deserved of only royalty?"
Cygnus's jaw tightened. Druella raised her brows. Artemis smirked. "I personally think they are a blemish on the Wizarding world. Why give them such height? Why not burn them?" she asked with a wicked gleam in her eye.
A tiny elf rounded the corner with the intention of escorting the family to the sitting room for tea. When he caught sight of the malevolent smile plastered on Artemis's face, he hastily turned on his heel, a terrified squeak leaving his lips.
Bellatrix made a note to dispose of the elf heads already sitting on a plaque in her home.
What Rodolphous loved (loved?) about Artemis was her intelligence (he assumed it came from him). While he wouldn't say anything to anyone, he felt great pride when she did something that showed off her genius. He would always remain indifferent to her but he honestly did care for her. He didn't realize it until an interesting conversation he had with her (one of the first conversations he ever had with her, actually).
He was sitting in his study moping about not having anyone to carry on the Lestrange name. There was always his brother Rabastan but he wasn't sure if he would be capable of handling a child. The Lestrange genealogy lay open on his desk. A sigh escaped his lips as his fingers idly traced the names of his immediate family.
"Father?"
He looked up and met the imploring gaze of his daughter. He scowled.
"What do you want?" he spat.
She took that as an open invitation to enter, though she clearly heard the harsh tone in his words.
"I wanted to ask you something."
"Why couldn't you ask your mother?"
She cocked her head to the side and studied him as if he were thick. "The same reason I can't ask you, but it is not stopping me."
That caught him off guard. "What do you mean?"
She crawled into the chair opposite him and stood on her knees as to see him clearly over the desk. "I know neither of you like me. You're a bit easier to talk to than mother, though." When he did nothing other than stare at her she rolled her eyes. "So can I ask you something?"
"You just did."
Ignoring him, she leaned forward. "Why did you name me Artemis?"
Rodolphous wasn't sure what he expected but it surely was not that. He sat a little straighter and cleared his throat. "It is the name we would have given you had you been born our son."
Artemis raised an eyebrow. "You mean it is what you would have named your son had he come out as your daughter, so therefore me?"
Rodolphous narrowed his eyes. "No, that is not what I mean. Artemis was the name of a great god who—"
She slammed a thick volume on the desk between them "That is where you are wrong, father. Artemis was the goddess of the hunt. Not a god. Perhaps you should read every now and then." With that said, she hopped out of the chair and sauntered out of the room.
Rage built up in Rodolphous's veins. How dare that foul little girl insult him? He glanced at the page the book is open to and suddenly felt very foolish. It was a tome on Greek mythology. He quickly scanned the page and gathered enough information to realize that Artemis was indeed a goddess. How could he be so stupid? He looked up in time to see his daughter throw a smirk in his direction. He stared after her in awe.
There was one thing Artemis did that significantly impressed both of her parents. Apart from her studies, the Lestranges insisted on her taking up some sort of extracurricular activity. Druella thought it would be wise for her granddaughter to partake in dance but Bellatrix scoffed at that. Her child would not prance about like a little fairy. Artemis decided to take matters into her own hands and suggest something. She had enjoyed watching her father hunt and wanted to do just as he did. Because she was not allowed a wand, she needed an alternate method, which is how a prodigy was born.
Much like her namesake, Artemis became a skilled archer. Her instructor gifted her with a golden bow small enough for her to use properly that would grow as she did, as well a set of arrows. The beginning of her lessons were nearly disastrous—she grew so frustrated with her lack of progress she exploded the target, effectively singeing her instructor's eyebrows. She grew progressively better as time went. After a week she could land a bull's eye; after two weeks she could knock an apple off of the instructor's head, with a flaming arrow after three. A month after her first lesson, she was taken on a hunt with her father. Rodolphous caught a small fox with the aid of his wand but he was shocked to discover Artemis had single-handedly incapacitated a full grown stag with her bow and a single arrow. To say he was impressed was an understatement.
With her remarkable skills, Rodolphous and Bellatrix knew their little girl would follow in their footsteps and assist the Dark Lord.
They were never given the chance to see that firsthand, however, as fate interfered.
The night of Halloween dawned bleak and terribly strange. Artemis had been curled up in her father's favorite armchair positioned before the roaring fireplace of the library. The words scrawled neatly into the large volume pressed into her lap began to blur in a drowsy parade of exhaustion. Her heavily hooded eyes were waging war with sleep and it appeared young Artemis would not win the battle. On a typical night, Bellatrix would have been in the room an hour ago shouting at her to get up to bed.
But she never came.
The sound of a door slamming somewhere downstairs caused her to give a little jerk as she swam back into the realm of the conscious. She fished a handkerchief out of the pocket of her robes and wiped away the sleeper's spittle lingering in the corner of her mouth. With the stealth of the snake she truly was, she shelved her book and crept out into the heart of the house. She and the shadows were one as they silently crept towards the sound of voices.
Bellatrix and Rodolphous could be seen from the doorway. They were discussing something in hushed murmurs, with the sound of others joining in where appropriate. Out under the night sky witches and wizards left behind their coveted secrecy to dance and holler throughout the streets. Shouts of glee or horror (Artemis could not quite tell) drifted up to her. Fireworks rolled gaily over the heads of those assembled.
"…can't do this!" the voice of her aunt Narcissa suddenly pleaded. Artemis eased the door open slightly so the blond woman was in her line of vision. "Think about your daughter!"
"He needs us, Cissa!" Bellatrix snapped. "You and your husband can cower here while Rod, Rab, and I take action. This was not supposed to happen!"
"Does anyone know what went wrong?" Rodolphous asked as he massaged his throbbing temples.
"No, I don't think anyone does," Rabastan answered. "The only thing I heard was the Potters are dead but the boy somehow lived."
Artemis didn't know what to make of what she was hearing. She knew the Dark Lord wanted the Potters and he was putting his plan into motion sometime soon, but what could have possibly went wrong? What did Aunt Cissy not want her sister to do, and what could she, Artemis, possibly have to do with it? Her inner musings were interrupted by a dark shadow falling across her hiding spot in the doorjamb.
"You do realize it is quite rude to eavesdrop, do you not?" Lucius sneered, looking down upon her like she was scum.
"Bring her here!" Bellatrix called. Artemis growled as Lucius roughly grabbed her arm and forced her into the open view of the sitting room. "I thought you were sleeping?" her mother asked in a deadly calm voice.
"The people in the streets woke me up," she lied, daring to stare the older woman in the eye.
Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. She shocked the entire room when she suddenly kneeled before Artemis and pulled her closer. "Listen to me." She grabbed her face and forced her to look her in the eye. "Are you listening?" Artemis nodded. "Right. No matter what happens tonight I want you to remember everything your father and I have told you. Do I make myself clear?"
"What's happening?" Artemis whispered. "What are you going to do?"
"Don't worry about it." She stood and placed a tentative hand on her daughter's unruly hair. "Just remember."
"Bella," Narcissa choked out. "You don't have to do this. You know they'll find you! There are far too many Aurors out tonight!"
"It's her death sentence," Lucius responded coolly.
"What is it?" Artemis demanded, this time more urgent. "Please tell me what is happening!"
"Your parents are being extremely…idiotic," Lucius told her in a bored voice. "I do hope you've gained some of the intelligence they don't have."
"Stop it!" Artemis shouted. Her face darkened and her fists clenched. Her parents may not have been the nicest people in the world but when someone spoke against them, they would most certainly pay. She felt the magic building up inside of her and before she could even blink, Lucius was lying on the floor.
"Lucius!" Narcissa collapsed beside him, tears streaming down her pretty face.
"Remember Arty," Bellatrix said before grabbing a hold of her husband's hand. She flashed a wicked grin that Artemis returned. Her mother rarely called her by her nickname. In a matter of seconds, the three Lestranges were gone.
"No!" Narcissa jumped to the spot they had just been. "No, they can't do this!"
"Let it go, Narcissa!" Lucius shouted, smacking his wife sharply across the cheek. "If they want to get sent to Azkaban, so be it! I am not risking myself for them!"
Artemis knelt beside her aunt who resembled nothing more than a crumpled heap on the floor. She stroked her pale blond hair and turned a venomous glare on her uncle. Before she could make a biting remark that would no doubt cause another "accidental" magical incident, Narcissa grabbed her small hand.
"You look so much like Bella, you know that?"
Artemis nodded.
"You're a beautiful girl, so much like my Bella. She's my sister; I can't let anything happen to her!" She bit back a sob and sighed. "She's going after the Aurors. She was already out but she came here to make sure you were okay…It may not seem like it but she loves you, dear."
"She's never told me," Artemis retorted coldly.
"She never tells anyone. But I know she does. And I know we both love her as well. I promise you, Arty, that if anything happens I will look over you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
And with those words said, the pair fell into a fitful slumber, holding one another on the cold floor.
/
Her mother had left her. Her mother had left her. Her mother had left her. It did not matter how she said it, the fact remained the same—Bellatrix was gone. Rodolphous was as well but that did not hurt as much as Bella leaving.
They were in Azkaban. They had tortured the Longbottoms into insanity. That didn't faze Artemis. She personally thought they deserved it. They were filth in her mind. But her parents were gone. Why weren't they more cautious?
Narcissa told her Bellatrix went down as a hero, or so she heard. It was fitting. Her mother would do nothing less than substantial. But she did not want to believe she had left her.
"You're lying," Artemis hissed. "She would never leave me!"
"Arty, please," Narcissa repeated again in an exasperated tone. "She and your father are gone. I'm not sure if they'll ever come back."
"You're lying! They didn't leave! Watch, they'll be back soon and then we'll see who has the last laugh!"
"Artemis," she began in a menacing voice. "I don't have time for you. Your parents are gone. They have left you. Enough already!" She watched the anger rise into her niece's face and she was vaguely aware of her son playing in the corner of the room.
"You are lying," she countered again.
A flicker of light appeared on the edge of her vision. She paid no attention to it. "Did you not hear what your mother said? She knew what she was doing! She knew she would get thrown into prison!"
"Shut up."
The light grew brighter and began to move.
"Now if you'll please just behave and sit here for a second I'll—"
"No!"
"Don't you raise your voice!"
Draco mumbled something unintelligible. Narcissa sighed and looked over at him. Her eyes went wide.
"Arty."
Artemis continued staring at her aunt without speaking.
"Arty!" Her voice became more urgent as the fire she was sure Artemis conjured drew nearer her son. It seemed her calling only made it worse. Draco was literally in the line of fire.
"Artemis, stop it!" She slapped the girl and the fire instantly died down. Artemis stared at her in shock. "Go up to your room. Now." She shot one last glare before running up the stairs and slamming her door.
Narcissa scooped Draco into her arms and sought out her husband.
"Lucius, we cannot keep her."
"I'm glad you finally realized that," he drawled.
"She is a danger to our family. She nearly killed Draco!"
"Did she? We'll handle her in the morning then."
The next day, the Malfoys carried a Stunned Artemis through the streets of London. She knew what they were going to do and put up a great fight until Lucius decided to use magic against her, not before she inflicted injuries on him. There was a great gash etched onto his face that would not stop bleeding. He scowled at the child in his arms and continued his movement.
She woke up seated in an unfamiliar room. There were voices coming from the other side of the door. She observed her surroundings, reading the bits of paper positioned on the desk and an angry scream sounded through the building. A tall woman with mousy brown hair burst into the room. Artemis hopped out of her seat and advanced on the woman.
"She lied to me! She lied!"
"Darling, please calm down," the woman urged, placing a hand on Artemis's shoulder. She hastily withdrew it as she felt her fingertips burn.
"She promised me, and she promised her! She promised her sister she'd keep me!"
"Perhaps if you can tell me what the problem is?" the woman tried again to calm the frustrated girl.
Artemis kicked and screamed, struggling against that insufferable woman's futile grip. She was forced back into a chair where she continued to scream about broken promises. Narcissa and Lucius would pay for what they had done, that much she was sure of.
"Sweetheart, please calm down!" the woman begged.
"Why should I?" Artemis shouted. "My parents left me and now my aunt and uncle dumped me in some filthy orphanage with a crackpot! No one wants me! Why should I calm down?"
"Drink this, will you?" She handed over a tall glass filled with what looked like pumpkin juice. Against her better judgment, Artemis brought the glass to her lips and sipped it gingerly. Was she imagining the warm calm spreading through her system? "Now, does that feel better?" Artemis nodded. "I didn't know what to make of you when I opened the door and nearly stepped on you. You say your family just left you here? How strange… Well, my name's Victoria and I promise you we will give you a nice loving home that will bring you nothing but happiness. Does that sound good?"
"I suppose so."
"Will you tell me your name?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you won't tell anyone either."
"What do you mean?"
Artemis grinned cruelly as she felt her former anger seeping back into her pores. She focused all of her energy on Victoria and felt a wave of grim satisfaction hit her as the woman's eyes grew round in fear and her breathing came to a crashing halt.
"That's why you won't tell anyone," Artemis told the dead body before her. "I don't want help from filth like you. But if you must know, my name is Artemis. Not for long, anyway." She quickly rearranged her features and turned to the door. "Help!" she suddenly screamed. "Someone help me!"
Workers of the orphanage piled into the room and were absolutely dumbstruck at the scene that lay before them. The owner of the orphanage was dead in her seat and there was no one other than a frightened girl with her. Muggle policemen were called in, the body was removed, and all the while no one noticed the smug look on the nameless girl's face.
Reports were made in the Muggle newspapers, eventually leaking into an overlooked Daily Prophet article, one that caught the attention of Narcissa Malfoy.
"Wasn't that the woman who took in Artemis?" she asked her husband over breakfast one morning.
He accepted the offered paper from her and scanned the article. "Hmm, I suppose you're right."
"You don't think…?" she trailed off, though he knew for certain what she was thinking.
"Is a young child capable of such a thing?"
"Don't underestimate her. You seem to be forgetting who her parents are."
They went back to their meal without another mention of their lost niece. That was the last they ever heard of Artemis Lestrange.
Or so they thought.
