A\n: Gamma Orionis, thanks for shoving me onto the Rod\Bella band-wagon. Whereas this may be under Rodolphus Lestrange, there is still going to be a squeeze of Remus, a dash of OC's, and a pixel of Bellatrix. Sit back, get a mug of hot chocolate, and enjoy, as I present to you, the first work ever that I may have an actual direction for: The Werewolf Registry.

R&R,pleaseandthankyou.

-Sticks and stones may break my bones

but words will never hurt me-

Azelia stood before the courtroom. What seemed like the last bit of saliva she had to swallow, she gulped down her throat.

"My father is guilty, minister. My father, deserves imprisonment. My father," now, she glanced around the room at various speakers and supporters; arguers and witnesses. "is a threat to our society." The minister nodded to her as though to thank her for her account, and finally, after an hour of speaking, she stepped off the podium. The case was closed, and Azelia was free to walk through the doors of the courtroom, and into the Ministry's main entrance hall, but when she did so, she was greeted by hundreds of camera crew and news-reporters. Anger stung at her veins and she shoved through them.

"You want a story?" she shouted. "I can give you one, That the pure-blood, the 'adored' child, is ashamed of the name Lestrange." With that, she drew her wand, and pressed onward, pictures being snapped of her back, and articles already being haphazardly written about the angry gleam in her eyes.

"Dad? What happened at that trial today? You've been watching it closely, and the Daily Prophet said the conclusion was being held today, I- Dad? Why are you packing?" Emily Lupin's eyes darted quickly between her father's suitcase and her father. Remus drew a deep breath, and held his composure perfectly; as though fail-proofed, as though he looked in the mirror every-day, envisioning what he'd tell his daughter if this day ever came. As though? Heh! He most certainly had, and after all those long nights of practicing, secretly after she'd gone to bed, he'd was un-prepared.

"Emily," he draped the shirt he'd been folding over the side of his suitcase, and took a seat on the end of the bed. "take a seat here." His daughter followed in suit, and she kept her gaze un-wavering from his eyes. "I already heard about the outcome of the meeting, sweetheart, and I believe you'll not want to hear this but," he drew another deep breath, though this time, longer. "You'll be staying with Sirius for awhile, my daughter. The trial was finished, and Rodolphus Lestrange was proven guilty. The Werewolf Registry is being re-written, and none of us are believed safe. There's a quarantine going on, of sorts, taking place in a deep chamber under the Ministry. I'll be staying there for-"

"-How long?"

"One year."

"Dad, you won't see me graduate from Hogwarts. You won't help me start my jo- job. Job as in, I want to work for those people? Dad, does all the Ministry agree on this?"

"Yes, Em. They are all in unison."

"Well, then,"

Remus could see his daughter's mind processing all of this at a mile a minute.

"I could talk to Yungar. I intern for him on Wednesdays and he specializes in passing these erm, what would you call them? Laws; safety precautions, um, test runs, of sorts. I could get him to let you stay."

"No, Emily, you can't," Remus stood, and picked up the light blue shirt draped over the side of his suitcase. "it's already be settled."

"You, you worthless piece of space! I told you it wasn't your father!"

"You told me, not to SAY it was my father! He is guilty! And what would you care? He gains about as much love from you as I did as a child, which is less than two people who hate each other give!"

Azlelia cupped her right cheek in the palm of her hand.

"Of course, I should have seen that coming! The back of Mommy's hand! I should have reported you when I had the chance!"

"Take the chance! Take it run with it, the door is wide open!"

Bellatrix wasn't being metaphorical. Wind rushed past Azelia's face as the storm flared up in the air, whipping against her sore cheek.

"Maybe I will take it! Maybe the whole world should know you two are a team! Then you can go to prison to, and you can despise my father even more in Azkaban!"

Bellatrix didn't have time to react with her hand again before Azelia was out the door, slamming it shut behind her. She was so stupid sometimes; so stubborn, just like her mother.

'Oh, my Mommy hit me,' what a great 'report'. She knew there was nothing she could do about her mother's abuse; there were no laws about, well, children being disciplined, if there was no proof it bordered, or was, abuse. Azelia stood no chance against her mother; Bellatrix was an organized, well-thought out woman...or, was that Voldemort? Who all but stood in her place everyday of her life? 'He might as well', Azelia couldn't help but think. Her mother's loyalties, and love lied with Voldemort, so why did she care so much about Rodolphus? He had been loving, at one time, and now Azleia sat and thought about it, she still gained more affection from her father. To this day, he was loving, kind...conniving. As well, he was going to Azkaban, and (almost decidedly by the Ministry), with a death sentence. Azelia wasn't sure she'd ever see her father again, and she knew she never wanted to see her mother, so as she kept walking through the fog, and down-pour, she set her destination as the Public Records Observatory, hoping to find answers to a story she was unsure of; to a story, she had just sold to the Ministry in the form of her father's, and many others', lives.