A/N- I don't know why, I just feel it appropriate to start using song clippings at the beginning of my chapters. They're all going to be based on songs by The Dresden Dolls, simply for they rock. And a lot of their songs sort of fit the mood of this story. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer I don't own any of these characters except for Tempest, although might come up with some later if I feel like it

Say what you will

I am the kill

The only thing that keeps you really truly safe from being real…

- The Kill, Dresden Dolls

A fine smoke started to be blown about by the wind, disappearing rapidly. In fact, within a few hours, the only evidence of any fire at all would be the charred remains of the house that lay in ruins on the ground, scattered across the grass. No one who walked by could tell any more what had happened here. At least, not the truth. Some may have thought it was a fire, another may have thought that the building had been imploded or demolished. Of course, there were those who did know what had happened, but at this moment in time, they could not be seen.

However, there were indeed those who knew of the events that had taken place here. A few had known in advance, but most only realised the terror of events that had gone by moments after it was too late. There had been speculation between the most knowledgeable about what would happen, and how. The renowned Albus Dumbledore had spent many a month researching, and had come to the conclusion that one of three things would happen, all of which would unfortunately resulted in the same causalities and deaths.

The first of these options was that a young Neville Longbottom of West Yorkshire would be discovered at around one o'clock in the morning. His parents, not being the best wizards of their time, but most certainly within the most skilled Aurors of their generation, would be sleeping when Lord Voldemort came to their home. It was the most peaceful of the options, as the next course of action that Lord Voldemort could take was then to silently step into the child's room and kill him with a quick spell. Then, knowing that the determination of loving parents, however strange to him it was, he would kill the parents so as to stop another pair of Aurors catching him or his followers.

The second of these options was that a young Harry Potter would be instead chosen. Lord Voldemort has long set out a plan in attempts to make Lily and James Potter join the Death Eaters, but had failed. So his fearing servant, a friend of the Potters, was sent to them as their secret keeper. It was simple enough to gain their trust. In Voldemort's opinion, anyone who refused his cause was a simple person, who most people would label as good. It wasn't true, though. They were simply weak, and being so, they trusted in the good of other people. How foolish. Dumbledore knew very well that the Potters had appointed a secret keeper, and suspected that it was this person that would be their downfall.

The third of these options was yet another Potter child. It was not well known among those who knew of the Prophecy that it spoke of neither gender specifically, and so they did not expect that the Potter daughter could have been of any importance. Tempest Potter, the youngest twin, was therefore only a small option. Dumbledore knew well enough that Lord Voldemort would underestimate a girl, and so knew that she was safe enough. This brought slight comfort to him, although he could not deny that her health was put at risk simply by being in the same house as Harry Potter, her brother.

These three theories were the only that Albus Dumbledore had, and although they were vague, he knew certainly that it was one of the three. What misfortune the man had when he discovered that indeed, his suspicions had been correct. Having known that Voldemort knew the Potters to be a talented pairing of wizards, and having knowledge enough of Voldemort, he managed to guess that it was young Harry that was destined to be murdered. With a slight sorrow due to the fact, Albus Dumbledore was forced to admit that he would have indeed come to the same conclusion. Although, never in all of his years would he have expected, though, for a young child to triumph over the most powerful wizard of all time.

The evening of these events brought on a fine mist in the darkness. Long ago, earlier that evening, the crack of a wizard apparating to the destination sounded, one Rubeus Hagrid. It was at this point where he saw a young Sirius Black, who pleaded that the giant should take the enchanted motorbike he possessed, in hopes that his godchild would be saved and given a better life. He knew that this would happen, as Rubeus Hagrid had been renowned for his business with Albus Dumbledore. After the roar of the motorbike leaving the ground, and another crack as Sirius Black escaped, a silence settled across the area.

That is, with the exception of a small whimper. The same whimper of a child that is awakened, but unsure of what it is that awakened her. Young Tempest Potter, at this moment blinking widely, most likely wondering why her mother did not tend to her, or why her father did not come and collect her. Upon a short break, in which time she realised no one came for her, she wailed in a most pitiful manner, breaking the silence. She did not even halt when another crack sounded through the air of a fourth person appearing that evening.

A slightly younger Bellatrix Lestrange appeared in a flash at what used to be the doorstep of the Potters home. A small smile was traced upon her lips as she looked ahead, hearing the sound of a child's cry. Taking a deep breath and settling the rate of her heart beat, she moved ahead. This was, after all, the job that had been set for her by the Dark Lord, and it was said as her personal errand. Knowing that it was her, and no one else, that had been given this task…well, no pleasure in the world could describe it more, while highlighted with the bitter taste of remorse. It was nothing sentimental. She simply wished that she had been sent to take care of the Potters instead. In her own opinion, she would have been able to convert them and take hold of the child, rather than dispatching wizards with such potential for the Cause.

"Where are you?" she muttered to herself, looking through the rubble that had been left. She could not see the cause of the weeping anywhere, and began to fret slightly. A pleased Lord might grant her with little more than a nod of the head, but she had learnt the hard way never to displease Him. Do so, and one might find themselves six feet under. All of a sudden, her foot brushed against a bundle of material. She looked down, hearing that the whimper had stopped.

"Hello there," she said sweetly, the sort of voice she gave her victims. She leant over and took hold of the bundle carefully, pulling it close towards her. With careful precision, she tugged gently at the blanket that covered the child's face slightly, and grinned maliciously.

"We're going to go on a little trip, aren't we?" she said, unaware of the insanity behind her tone. In fact, she was unaware of the fact she had become slightly manic at all. "Have someone for you to meet, don't we?"

The child only whimpered in reply, unsure around the fact that stared down at her. Bellatrix stared down at the child, tilting her head slightly. A thought came to mind while she looked, her eyes opening wide at the very idea of what flew through her head. She looked around the grounds, as if to make sure that no one could hear her thoughts- the Dark Lord had punished her enough times for the thoughts in her mind. Again, she looked at the child, her smile spreading further across her face.

"The Potter's kid, eh?" she muttered. "Most talented witch and wizard of their generation. The Dark Lord has told His followers just as much, you know? Imagine, child, what child may come from them." She giggled slightly, a manic sound rather than the tinkle a child might have wished to hear. "Imagine what power you may possess…even now, what power you hold. How else would He be gone? How else would you still be alive, child?"

Bellatrix held the child to her breast, looking around again. Her mind, brilliant as it was, had already sought out her plan. She knew that the Dark Lord was gone. She would not have been here at this moment, otherwise. She remembered clearly the course of action to be taken. If He were not to return, if the Potters put up more of a battle than He had first anticipated, He would call upon Bellatrix for help. All would have gone to plan had it not been for one single child, the reason she was there now. He had not been able to summon her, nor had there been enough time for her to know that she must go to Him. For this, she detested the child she held in her arms. Yet…how much power did she hold in her hands at that moment? Enough power to destroy the one that she had held dearly, He who was to rule over the world, He who used his power to kill countless people without remorse and pity. The thought that this child in her arms could defeat all of that was simply giddying.

For so long, she had striven for her Lord's adoration, or even to be noticed as anything different from the scum that worked for Him by her side. Such efforts were, of course, wasted away. She would be nothing more than a servant to the Dark Lord, and knew very well at that moment it was so. So holding a child in her arms that could defeat such a wizard brought upon her a feeling of power that she had not before felt. It no longer whimpered, and a calm fell across the grounds. Bellatrix looked down at the child, and was decided. Now that the Lord was gone, there was nothing left for her. Nothing except for running away. To run, and to keep running, with the child still in her grasp. In sixteen years or so, the child would be strong, would have been taught the magic that was needed to conquer the world. Things that Bellatrix herself had not been taught until it was too late to use it.

With a swift movement, she turned and walked, sure enough that it was easier for someone to intercept her if she apparated. By foot, she was quicker than other Death Eaters, and much lighter on her feet.

"You'll be powerful, you know," she muttered down to the child who was near enough asleep again in her arms. "My own little child…think of it, the mother of the one who rules over the world. Not as good as a lover, I suppose, but I can always settle for second best." Bellatrix received no reply, but she much preferred it that way. Best the child be taught proper manners and proper ruling before it answered to her, lest it utter something repulsively stupid and innocent. Such speech was not something she wished to hear, and not was needed for the world to hear. What it needed was a sharp tongue that spoke only of power, of something strong enough to control.

"And indeed you will," she continued, speaking at random interventions of her thoughts. "Think of it, my dear, you'll own the world one day. You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Own the world?" asked a silvery voice. Bellatrix spun quickly on her heel, clutching the child protectively.

"Who's there?" she asked lowly, her voice losing all the feigned sweetness it once held, and instead returning to a bitter tone. A figure appeared out of the light mist of the ruins, his white-blonde hair shining in the dark night. "Lucius," she seethed, her teeth gritted.

"I suppose we should have expected this," he said, taunting her. "Never send a woman to do a man's job."

"You don't honestly believe in that," she spat. "I don't need you to pretend you haven't had it in for me, Malfoy."

"You're right, I don't like you, but that doesn't mean it isn't true. Only a woman would ever get so sentimental over a child." Bellatrix growled lowly.

"Sentimental?" she laughed darkly. "What's so sentimental about being on the safe side?"

"You pin your hopes on a child I doubt can even sit up," he drawled, a slight smile on his lips.

"A child who will one day conquer the world in ways the Dark Lord could not have imagined," she said. "This child I hold here, he managed to kill the Dark Lord, Malfoy! Imagine what can be done with the years to come!"

Lucius Malfoy moved forward, and without explaining his actions snatched the child from Bellatrix. She grappled viciously to regain her hold on the child, but was fruitless as Lucius held the child, and inspected it. He was curious at first, and then at last uttered a bitter sound, not entirely human. He thrust the child back at Bellatrix, who took her defensive position again with the child's head against her breast.

"This child did not defeat the Lord!" he cried out, taking hold of his wand. "You fool! You have come too late and taken the wrong child!"

"It was only this one left," she told him. "This one must have survived him."

"Perhaps you have not heard the rumours," he said through gritted teeth. "One of the Potter children was taken by that worthless half-breed of Dumbledore's. If you had at all listened to anyone, you would have known that this was not the right child!"

"What does it matter?" she asked passionately. "Even if this is not Harry, she is still born of the most talented witch and wizard of their age. I doubt there will be anything but pure talent in this child's veins."

"You hold too much faith," he said, pointing the wand directly at the child. "Let it be, now."

"I won't let you kill her, Lucius."

"Lestrange, you-"

"I said, I won't let you kill her," she repeated. "There is such potential within her even now- kill her and you will go against everything the Cause stood for."

He looked down at the child, who had now fallen fully asleep and was gently breathing in Bellatrix's arms. It was true that there was potential, but he did not think it worth the risk. The Dark Lord had been cruel to his servants, and he doubted highly that this girl would be any better when powerful enough. However, there was logic in Bellatrix's words, and he could not deny when even a woman was right. With a bitter sigh, he placed his wand back in his robes, glaring at Bellatrix.

"You'd do best not to tell anyone where she came from," he muttered.

"What, and let those creeps just have their way with her and think they can get away with it?"

"And here's me thinking you'd rather she exacts revenge exactly how she wants," he said, a malicious smirk spreading across his face. Bellatrix opened her mouth, but could not think of how to retort, and so left the silence as it was. Lucius laughed once, briefly, and then disappeared with a crack. Left alone in the abandoned land, Bellatrix scowled at the darkness before her. There was only one thing she could concentrate on for that time, though.

"The mother of the most powerful witch in the world…" she muttered to herself. After a pause, she nodded proudly." It'll do me fine enough.