Bellatrix has a three month old son. More specifically, the Dark Lord's son. He is named Caedus. Lord Voldemort required an heir so he would have someone to carry on his legacy if the prophecy about his downfall proved true. Although married to Rodolphus, Bellatrix was still willing to carry his child. Bella was actually the only one who wanted to. (it may or may not have been her who slipped the dark lord a letter, telling him that he should take necessary precautions)
I can imagine the battle raging on miles from this abandoned church. I desperately wish I was out there too, fighting alongside my lord. But he insists I stay here. He wants Caedus safe. I'm sitting on the floor behind the altar with my back against the cold wall. Next to me is the small cradle in which Caedus is sleeping.
Caedus is scared of the distant screams, so I lift him from the cradle close to my chest. It seems to calm him, which I find rather peculiar because I am not one that somebody would find calming at all. I may have experience with babies because I have been with living with Cissy and Lucius since Draco was born. But your own child is so much different than your nephew. He just loves to be around me and that is one of the greatest feelings to have ever been felt.
A bright green light flashes from outside, lighting up the room. It causes Caedus to become even more frightened. "Shhhh," I say to him, "you'll be okay. Mummy is here." I start to hum for him. I do not know if I am good at humming, but he seems to appreciate it so I continue. I too, am also quite nervous, and somehow I find his warm, tiny body pressed against mine rather comforting, which I find strange. How can a baby be comforting?
I hear footsteps echoing on the cold, stony floor. My body tenses up. My senses become acute.
I must be imagining it. There is no way someone can get in here. It's impenetrable. But the nervous feeling in my stomach still remains, as do the footsteps. Caedus must feel it too because he opens his eyes and starts to whimper. Something is definitely not right.
"There is no use hiding, Bellatrix. We know you're here."
I say nothing, hoping that they were just guessing.
"Expulso!" The man calls out. The blast completely destroys the altar and it sends me crashing against the wall. Thankfully Caedus is unharmed. I see my pursuers. A round-faced woman and a man with large ears and misshapen teeth. I know who they are. Alice and Frank Longbottom. Aurors.
"Seriously?" I say, laughing, "you're going to hurt me in front of a baby?"
Frank shakes his head, "We're not here for you."
I stand up. "Oh I can assure you that Lord Voldemort is not here."
"We're not looking for Voldemort," Alice says promptly. I hate how they act like a team, backing each other up like that. The pair of them point their wands at me. It takes me a second to realize who they actually are coming to kill. My eyes widen, fearing for the life of my child.
"No," I say in a barely audible whisper.
"He is an heir to Voldemort. A monster." She says, wand still pointing at Caedus. She gives me a sorry look before yelling, "Sectumsempra!"
Caedus starts to cry. I look down at him; blood is seeping through his blanket.
I stun the aurors so I can focus my attention on Caedus. "Don't cry my darling, I'm here. I've got you." Cradling him tightly in my arms, hot tears stream down my cheeks and onto his. I kiss his forehead over and over while holding his little fist. "Mummy loves you so much." I tell him. "I love you so much."
His body becomes limp.
Lifeless.
I kneel down and place him in his cradle. I can't bear to hold him anymore. I cannot hold a tiny limp body. "No." I try to scream but I can't. "NO!" Tears are streaming down my cheeks.
My baby. My baby son is dead. No. No. He's gone. No! He wasn't a monster. He was a baby. An innocent little baby.
I now turn to Alice and Frank Longbottom. There is a sorry look on their stupid idiot faces. I don't care. They are not sorry for what they've done. I extend my arm, pointing my wand at them. "CRUCIO!" The pair of them fall to their knees. One time is not enough. No.
Crucio. Crucio. Crucio.
Their bodies violently contort with each scream. I laugh at their feeble attempts of fighting back. I shout the curse again and again until my voice goes hoarse. I would have killed them right there. But no. Killing would make it easy on them. Less pain that way. Death is too quick.
Torture is much more painful. Torture is much more fun.
