AN: Hey everyone. Thanks for being so patient. It was a very busy time for me, but I'm always writing bits and pieces whenever I can.

Chapter 3: The Turn

The chattering at the manor began in slow whispering. Shocked expressions were still glued onto Lyra. Lyra's own gaze wandered around, she was unable to look ahead for longer than a few seconds. Her brown eyes strolled to all of the attendants; Yaxley could not have been more shocked: his dull expression was replaced by a mouth gapping open, he stared at her in a mixture of disbelief and awareness. Did he know he had the most dangerous wizard of all time's daughter in his house, kissed her? Brought her here? Did he, perhaps, fear that he would be killed if Lord Voldemort ever found out that Yaxley touched the girl?
Lyra could not stop a slight grin creeping up her lips as her eyes further wandered around. The boy Draco looked downright terrified and the woman next to Lyra had her lips parted when everyone else started to chatter. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion even though Lyra had only brought the news maybe three seconds ago.
But the Dark Lord seemed to look past Lyra. His eyes were attentive, not narrowed, he appeared to be frozen to his chair, in the moment. With a loud and echoing growl, he shot up the table, Lyra gasped, everyone fell silent, stared at the girl, to their Lord, back and forth, believing he would kill her on an instant. Despite Lyra's fear of getting cursed, Lord Voldemort did not even yell. But he talked.

"Death Eaters." He started and looked at everyone intensively. Everyone but Lyra.
"You are dismissed." He said lowly and nobody dared telling him otherwise or make any attempts to stay longer. Most of the Death Eaters disapparated or flew away in black silky nebula seconds later. Yaxley took a little while to realize he was dismissed; he stared at Lyra for one more moment until he got up and vanished wordlessly.
But not everyone was gone.
The boy was still there, two people that, by the looks of it, could possibly be his parents: a woman and a man with both having very light blond hair. And the woman with dark curly hair, she was there too and Lyra could feel the gaze on her face. None of them said a word.
"Get out." It said from the front of the table. Lyra gulped but got up when the others did as well.
"No. Not you." Cooed the lingering voice from the Dark Lord. Lyra looked over to him and sat back down. She only heard the door clicking when the realized that the others have disappeared. Nothing was said for the longest time, his eyes were not leaving Lyra's face. After what seemed forever, Lyra inhaled deeply and started the conversation she has so long repeated in her mind over and over again.

"Forgive me. I know you don't believe me. You must think I am a liar. But I could not wait any longer, I-"
"Quiet."
And Lyra held her silence. Her hands went to her thighs on an instant, she clutched onto her dark stockings that were covering her legs, she played around with the fabric while he continued to walk back and forth without taking his eyes off of her.

"I don't have a daughter. An interesting plan indeed...How. Dare. You..." His menacing voice started and he pulled out his wand but Lyra screamed "No!" and shot up from the chair, stretching her arm out, signaling him to stop. He watched her curiously, eyes glistened in anger but he tilted his head to the side and did not yet attack. Lyra sat back down but leaned closer to him across the table; leaning into the conversation, trying so hard to stress her point - stress the truth.

"Seventeen years ago..." She started and he continued to glare at her but allowed her to speak for the while; like a cat allowing the mouse to run around a bit before catching it again.
"Leona Dawns." Murmured Lyra softly and hearing this name, the Dark Lord put his wand down; as though it was a trigger for this seemingly subconscious reaction. Lyra took this as a permission to go on.
"As far as I know, she was only in her early twenties when she met you. She...gave me to the orphanage right after giving birth to me and...was found dead days later. I came to meet you and I came to find out about...my family. Myself and..." She stopped and looked up.

"I am your daughter." She said softly, her eyes wandered over to him hopefully. Nothing was said for a couple of seconds which caused Lyra to feel more nervous. Lord Voldemort's eyes were on his wand, they changed from attentive to narrowed again, his breathing became heavier, Lyra grew more nervous, his breathing became stronger, Lyra grew more scared and she flinched when she heard his voice.

"You were an accident. Nothing more and nothing less. Now get out. And don't you come back again." He growled as he turned his back around and walked away. He left her behind in the room. Lyra's face felt like she has been slapped hard but she could not say anything at all. She was an accident. Nothing more and nothing less.
Now that she heard those words she felt ridiculous to believe she could ever have been something else. Of course she was an accident, of course. But why did it hurt to hear it? Lyra had come here, prepared to answer all of his questions, to convince him that she was indeed his daughter. It did not take a lot of time for him to be sure that she was right, yet Lyra did not spend a single second on thinking about what to do when he did not care, when he rejected her. Tears now started to stream down her pale cheeks; Lyra was his daughter and he did not want anything to do with her. All she came here for crashed into pieces, nothing of her original plan worked the way she wanted it to. What was she supposed to do now? She was left behind in the home of strangers, she did not even have her wand and could not disapparate without it; she was not a witch without it. Deep inside, however, Lyra felt stripped off of a lot more. More hot tears ran over her face. Accident, accident, accident.

"Shh..." Said a voice next to Lyra suddenly. Lyra jumped and almost knocked over the chair when she flinched away; there she was again. That woman with black curly hair. For some reason, Lyra felt intimidated by her mere presence.

"So it is true...you are indeed his daughter." Stated the woman more to herself. "Let me look at that face of yours..." She cooed and grabbed Lyra's chin. The woman's black eyes stared right into Lyra's brown ones, whose long eyelashes were wet from all the crying.

"You look so much like he used to..." Said the woman and Lyra stopped sniffling. She felt her cheek being caressed and, even though in total need for some warmth, she leaned away from the woman's touch for a second, responding to her in that way.

"I... have to go..." Said Lyra; her eyes got all teary again.

"Go where, dear?" Asked the woman with a faint hint of amusement, as if she knew that Lyra had nowhere to go for the while.

"Back home. It was stupid of me to come here. He said I shouldn't come back again-"

"Now, now. Lyra was it, right? You ought not to run away. You have to fight for his affection." Lyra looked into the woman's eyes. Was she out of her mind? How could she say that? Did that woman know what fighting for Lord Voldemort meant?

"The Dark Lord would never give up. See, dear, not even death has stopped your father; when he was less than alive he was still more feared than any other wizard. His determination and ambition was all he needed. And that's all you need."

Lyra listened as the woman talked. She was right. Ambition and determination, she had all of that. Ambition, determination and hope. With a sudden jolt of excitement, her eyes lit up and she nodded, the last tear was shed. Her brown eyes wandered up to the woman and she felt her cheek being caressed again, both of them stared into each other's eyes and Lyra could not help but wonder about the witch in front of her. Who was she?

"Thank you. Uhm...?" Lyra paused and looked up into the woman's eyes expectingly, indicating some insecurity about her name.

"Bellatrix. Call me Bella."
"Thank you Bella." Said Lyra gently, then she frowned. Something hit her.
"Be...Bellatrix Lestrange?" Asked Lyra and the witch next to her cackled lowly but did not say anything else.
"I have read about you." Explained Lyra and Bellatrix nodded with amusement clearly written on her face.
"Of course you have. There was no possible way you could research on your father without stumbling across my name." She said proudly, tilting up her chin slightly and Lyra just listened attentively, but seemed extremely confused when Bellatrix got up and wanted to leave.
"I will get my husband. Then you and I will go, dear." Said Bellatrix as she walked closer to Lyra as the latter did not understand.
"Go? Go where?" She asked.
"To my place." Answered Bellatrix as she wiped away some tears from Lyra's cheeks. "Wait here for me."
"What? What do you mean-hey...hey wait! Where-" But Bellatrix had already vanished from the scene.

Nothing of that seemed to make it clearer. As Lyra stood there waiting, she observed the room. Everything seemed so very cold, not even the fireplace in the middle could heat the room up properly. The arched windows let in just enough blue color from outside, the moonlight gave everything an even more mysterious atmosphere; then again, it seemed to forget that there was nothing mysterious about it anymore. Lyra knew the naked truth now.

The door opened but it was not Bellatrix nor her husband who walked inside. It was the blond guy about her age; she already forgot his name. Drogis? No. Draul? No, but something like that. Lyra glanced over to him and he stood in the distance, tilting his head to the side, as if he was in a museum and she was a piece of artwork that he did not know what to truly think of. Glancing over his shoulder, then back to Lyra, he turned away again and left without a word, Lyra did not have enough time to further evaluate the situation as only moments later, Bellatrix returned with a tall man. He had a well defined beard and dark hair; his thickset body looked intimidating as most of his mass seemed to be muscles. Had it not been for his dull, blank gaze, Lyra would have been scared of him. He walked closer, the moonlight broke in his black eyes and gave him a more severe look.

"She looks so much like he did." He said and cupped Lyra's chin a bit too harsh, forcing her face up. He stared deeply into her eyes. Bella nodded with a faint smirk that activated Rodolphus's smirk as well.
"The Dark Lord's daughter, I can't believe it." He murmured and shook his head with that ever so present grin on his lips.
"I don't understand..." Grumbled Lyra suddenly. She pulled her chin away, her eyes narrowed in discomfort. She rubbed her jaw before crossing her arms but the couple in front of her only chuckled lowly, both of them. Rodolphus started to grin and he glanced at his wife, she nodded at him before he declared. "Let's go."
And with that, the three of them disapparated.