Dark Prodigy
Chapter One: Keep her Safe
The darkness surrounded Bellatrix Lestrange as she Apparated on the Malfoy's doorstep. Several silky, black strands of hair peeked out from her hood as she shuffled with a small lump of blankets in her hands, trying to get one free to ring the doorbell. Bellatrix was panting heavily as she pulled the hood and her hair out of her face. A shiny sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead and cheeks; her eyes glanced nervously behind her.
There were angry mob calls and shouts from down the street, led by bright, burning torches and vengeful witches and wizards with wands and pitchforks. Bellatrix knew that they were coming for her; but she had to get her affairs in order before confronting them. She wouldn't go quietly; but she didn't want them to catch her before she could secure the Dark Lord's heir.
Bellatrix caught a glimpse of burning light from over the tall hedges of the Malfoy's front yard.
A small cry came from beneath the bundle of blankets. Bellatrix held the soft blankets precariously to where she removed the swaddling clothes and revealed to be holding a small infant child, a little girl. A tiny hand reached out to Bellatrix's face and touched her chin. Bellatrix's eyes cascaded over the innocent face; for a soft beat, she showed something of fondness for the little tyke. Yet she knew that there was no other choice.
Bellatrix knocked on the door swiftly.
It was nearly four o'clock in the morning.
"Cissy." Bellatrix hissed urgently.
The door opened; Narcissa reached out over the threshold and nearly dragged Bellatrix inside, being careful not to hurt the baby that was coddled in her sister's arms. Narcissa's face looked extremely surprised and confused as she closed and locked the door behind her.
"Bella, what have you done?"—Narcissa made a small gasp—"Whose child is that? Bella, did you—?"
"Narcissa, I can't stay long. Here," she shoved the infant into Narcissa's arms, who looked up at Bellatrix, further confused.
"Bella—is she yours?" Narcissa said disbelievingly.
"The Dark Lord insisted," Bellatrix spoke swiftly, putting the blankets on the back of a white couch. "It made so much sense. Narcissa, I have to ask you to take care of her. I have no other choice, especially now."
Bellatrix told Narcissa that before The Dark Lord had vanished, he and Bellatrix both imbibed a high dose of Amortentia, the potion of great obsessive love. It was Voldemort's wish to produce an heir with the most potential for darkness, and that it should have been done with Voldemort's most trusted follower. The Dark Lord had described the extreme talent that his blood and hers combined would make the Heir be nearly as powerful as Him, as long as she was taught the many dangerous and dark curses, the most contrary perceptions of magic, and to learn her destiny. The Dark Lord was insistent that their prodigy—He would never refer to the baby as his daughter—would thrive among Pure-Bloods, to rule alongside him rather than after him, as he was sure that He would never die.
Bellatrix had considered this a very high honor, also owing to the fact that she had no daughters or sons to sacrifice to him to further his goals; though she hadn't anticipated the fact that she would be leaving the Dark Lord's most prized possession in the hands of her sister and brother-in-law, due to her own failure of anonymity.
Bellatrix had hidden the pregnancy from her family and fellow Death Eaters in order to keep a string of secrecy—Voldemort's secret weapon. Now it seemed that secrecy was no longer an important matter, for the Dark Lord was nowhere to be found; that the Death Eaters whose loyalty was not as tremendous had disbanded; and that Bellatrix was looking at a life sentence in Azkaban.
"The Ministry of Magic has Aurors up and down the streets of London looking for the few of us that were trying to get information from some of the members of the Order," continued Bellatrix calmly, though her eyes said something different. "We've done a lot of things that most people would consider revolting, but I have my own reasons, Cissy."
Narcissa continued to stare at her sister, in silent disbelief.
"You and the Dark Lord had sex?" she uttered almost inaudibly. She didn't want to wake her husband, who was sleeping upstairs in the bedroom; nor did she wish to disturb their infant son, Draco, who finally had fallen asleep after two hours of constant wailing.
Bellatrix ignored Narcissa's statement and continued,
"I can't put her in an orphanage; the Muggles will brain wash her. And the Ministry of Magic hasn't made any charitable movements to create one for Wizarding families...not that I would send her there if I could. They are not fit parents, much less for a Pure-blood.
"Barty Crouch Jr. has fled the country," Bellatrix said as she pulled her cloak tight around her body. "Amycus and Alecto have already been apprehended. Dolohov has taken to the woods just outside of Wiltshire for cover; but there are Hit Wizards after him, and they're wanting him badly. I have to go as well."
Narcissa glanced down at the baby's face.
The girl looked just like her mother, with dark hair and dark eyes. Narcissa considered that the little girl looked a little like the Dark Lord; though she doubted that she would resemble the Dark Lord whenever he returned to his appropriate state. Dark Magic could do a thing like that to a man.
"What's her name?" asked Narcissa curiously.
"Astrid." Bellatrix answered.
The baby smiled at the sound of her name, and made the small cry of "Mama..." Her small hands reached out for Bellatrix, but her mother wouldn't take her. Narcissa's face fell crestfallen.
"Bella, you should say that you were under the Imperious Curse. Plead insanity," suggested Narcissa softly. "The Ministry of Magic will forgive those who knew not what they've done."
"No," said Bellatrix firmly, as if Narcissa has suggested these things several times in the past. "I will not deny Him. And neither will she," she added, glancing at Astrid. "She should be raised to know the truth about her parents—both of them."
Then there were screams just outside of the house. Bellatrix and Narcissa looked at the door to make sure no one was trying to burst in. They still seemed to be a good distance away from them.
"You should get going, I guess..." Narcissa didn't know how to say good-bye to a sister that she would never see again."Be careful, Bella."
"Keep her safe." Bellatrix said.
"Darling, what are you—Bellatrix, I didn't know that you were here."
Narcissa and Bellatrix turned their heads to the spiral staircase to see that Lucius had just appeared in sight, dressed in a black robe. He had taken enough time to get downstairs to have his long, blonde hair tied into a sleepy-driven ponytail; it was hidden in the back of his robe.
He took one look at the situation, taking note of Astrid who was growing restless in Narcissa's arms, and then turned to Narcissa.
"Lucius," she began tenderly, however Bellatrix interrupted what she knew was about to a very long, tedious argument between lovers—
"I have to go," she said, moving toward the door.
"Wait—" Lucius started as he hurtled down the stairs to seize Bellatrix by her sleeve—"Is she yours? What the hell is going on? Where are you off to?"
"Lucius, Cissy will fill you in," said Bellatrix hurriedly. She pried her brother-in-law off her arm and opened the door. "There's a mob coming after me, Lucius. You'd be best to lie low, if what you're doing is pretending that this—" she indicated to all of them as a circle, His circle—"never happened. Keep her safe, teach her well. I'll come back when...and if...I can."
Lucius seemed to have accepted her quick but vague explanation of the present circumstances, for his expression softened as he understood her message. He held the doorknob, with Narcissa stepping to his side, as the Malfoys watched Bellatrix run to the manor's gates and Disapparate into a dark, swirling mist.
The burning torches and screaming Witches and Wizards cried out as they saw Bellatrix's Death Eater form and followed the apparition back down the street.
It was that night that Bellatrix was captured by the Aurors.
Narcissa held the baby in her hands, sitting in the living room, dimly lit by glowing candles on the end tables. She sat on the white couch which was still cloaked by the blankets that Astrid had been wrapped in; Narcissa smiled softly at the baby's face, lightly poking her small nose with a gentle finger.
"Hello, little one," said Narcissa softly, with her softest voice. "Your parents are dark, dark people," she whispered as shadows bounced off the walls, reflecting silently from the candles. "Your father is a dark, dark man; your mother, forgive her, she thinks with her heart than with her mind. You're just a little baby, expected to do great things."
A subtle, yet sad expression fell on her face.
"Terrible," she added quietly, "but great."
"Narcissa."
She had forgotten that Lucius had not left the room since Bellatrix had left the house. His hand clutched The Daily Prophet, which was screaming a bold-faced headline reading:
"Death Eaters Captured. Facing life-sentence in Azkaban for numerous tortures and murders of members of the Order of Phoenix. Never to Be Released."
In his other hand, he cupped a large glass of Sherry. He had been watching his wife carefully.
"If what Bellatrix said is true," he began in a low voice, "she has to learn what they know. Or knew."
Narcissa watched her husband as she rocked Astrid in her arms.
"She has to learn." Lucius said suggestively to his wife.
"Lucius, she's just a little girl," said Narcissa. "We can raise her like Draco. But I don't want to tell her when she's 13 and about to go to Hogwarts that her mother is a murderer in Azkaban, and that her father is responsible for more loss of life than any disease. She'll be the most hated witch in the Wizarding World," Narcissa continued. "Brought up as a pariah that only a dead Wizard could even perhaps even love? Can He love, Lucius?"
Lucius knew that she would react this way, but it wasn't less than what he was expecting. She was a mother after all; and they had just been given Draco just three months ago. Narcissa obviously disagreed with Bellatrix and Lucius. However, Lucius knew how terrible the consequences would be that should the Dark Lord return to power, as he always did, and realize that his prodigy and daughter was not the person that he planned to meet.
The imagination was just too great.
"Narcissa, dear, we don't want to jeopardize that theory with Draco's life," he tried to persuade her. "Think of the consequences. We shall also pay the price for insubordination. You know the Dark Lord has never been forgiving or merciful. Why should He spare our son when we didn't follow the instructions that he has left with Bellatrix, and that she has left with us?"
"Lucius." Narcissa rose to her feet. "You want to raise a monster? That's what she'll be."
"A monster," Lucius considered, "yes. But a charming one," he added, "just as charming like her father, and dangerous as both of them."
Narcissa sighed and glanced down, again, at the innocent face of Astrid Lestrange.
"We should name her as a Malfoy," said Narcissa with a sigh.
Lucius frowned.
"And have our name smudged into the dirt like Lestrange? No."
"Those children at school will judge her the moment they hear that name," Narcissa argued.
"Severus has always taken care of his own House," Lucius retorted.
"You assume that she'll be sorted into Slytherin?"
"She has to be." Lucius said incredulously. "Her mother and father, Narcissa. I can talk to him. He at least should know who is at his school. He can watch her while Astrid attends to school. Maybe he can teach her the Dark Arts as well. We both know that he wants that job anyway," Lucius said. He seemed to try to reason with himself rather than his wife. "Severus is a good teacher," he added.
Narcissa sighed, dejected, and held up Astrid to her husband's face.
"Look at her, Darling."
"I see her."
"Well, would you expect our son to be that way when you look at him now?" Narcissa argued.
"Darling—"'
"I don't want to raise much a fuss, Lucius, but are you seriously saying that we should have her learn the worst spells, the worst curses, the worst Dark Magic, when she's 12 just so that she'll fulfill a prophecy? She won't understand why she is Dark, Lucius. She'll think that she is different. A thirteen-year-old girl, Lucius!"
"That is her destiny," Lucius said. He noticed that his voice started to rise in volume.
Narcissa sighed.
"Perhaps you are right…" she said. "But it seems like just a terrible fate."
"Some lives are worth sacrificing, dear," Lucius tried to assure her. "Her destiny was written the moment Bellatrix and the Dark Lord drank that potion. So it must be."