DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!

The Serpents' Child

Chapter 4

January 1996

Bellatrix Lestrange crouched in a corner of her six by six foot cell in Azkaban. Her once curvaceous and voluptuous body had withered due to fifteen years of prison life, malnutrition, beatings from guards, distance from everyone she knew and the knowledge that she had no idea where her one and only child was. Rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, Bellatrix mumbled her thoughts aloud. How long had it been now? Was 5,204 days? Or was it 5,205? Did it even matter? What time is it? Again, did that matter? I wonder what's for dinner…Or have we had that? Or was that breakfast? What's Rodolphus doing? Is he thinking about me? Probably not. Is he thinking about her? He had better be! I think about her! Where is she? Who is she with? Is she at Hogwarts? Or Beauxbatons? Or is she with some filthy muggles?! Is she even alive? She had better be!

For a moment, her Dark Mark gave a little twinge. But it did that sometimes. Not thinking, Bellatrix ran her tongue from the crook of her elbow to the tip of her middle finger, confused on why she even did that. But never mind that! Was what that noise from outside? It wasn't the ordinary crashing of waves that she could hear through the bars in her cell. It sounded like…Blasts. Speaking of which. The wall nearest to the outside of the building blasted in on itself, spraying some pieces of rock over Bellatrix, though she didn't even seem to notice. Standing up shakily, she wobbled to the now open space and began cackling loudly. Taking a few moments to laugh until her sides hurt, she paused as her thoughts quickly reorganised themselves.

"Don't worry, honey, I'm coming. Mummy's coming!"

!"!

"Thank you very much for meeting me, I really appreciate it." Hermione spoke respectfully, sitting down in an unusual – for her, anyway – lady-like fashion in the chair opposite a Ministry worker. Mr Ivan Rabbs scrutinised her closely for a moment before sitting down. She was dressed in a smart dress, that whilst it looked very elegant and professional, she was clearly unused to wearing dresses. Her bushy hair was pinned up in a bun at the nape of her neck and she had even put on some make-up.

As he righted himself in his chair, he spoke as he picked up a quill and jotted notes in his appointment book. "Yes, yes, Miss Granger. What can I do for you today?"

"Well…I'd like to see my birth certificate and records."

His quill snapped and he paused. "Why would you want to do that, Miss Granger?" He asked cautiously.

She paused herself before clearing her throat. "My parents – that is to say, Dr and Dr Granger in the muggle world – told me that they adopted me as an infant-"

He cut across sharply. "Then you would need to speak to someone in the muggle world."

"Yes, but they also told me that when Professor Dumbledore came to our house to inform them that I'm a witch, that he knew I was adopted straight away and that he knows who my real parents are!" She explained desperately.

"Well then I must insist that you speak to Professor Dumbledore." He stood up. "If that is all, Miss Granger-"

For one of the first times in her life, Hermione knew she had to be rude. "No!"

Mr Rabbs visibly blanched. "I beg your pardon!"

"I'm sorry if I'm being rude, Mr Rabbs, but I-I must insist that you find my birth certificate and any and all documents relating to me. The Grangers told me that I was born to a magical family and that, for some reason, I was removed from their care. Now I insist-"

"Miss Granger, this is hardly an appropriate time for this!"

"Then when would be 'appropriate'?"

"When there hasn't been a break-out at Azkaban!" He burst out. When he had finished his sentence, he scolded himself. Sighing tiredly, he spoke in a calmer tone. But she interrupted him.

"Sorry sir but…What does an Azkaban break-out have to do with my biological parents?"

!"!

At Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix glared at her arm in the shower, rubbing back and forth, adding more soap to the cloth as she tried to scrub off the years and years of dirt from Azkaban. Was her skin really that pale? Or had she whittled her arm down to the bone? No, a freckle. Or was that just more dirt? Scrubbing that until it bled, she concluded that it was actually a freckle and she had reached her skin at last. This had been her fifth shower in two days and she still felt the dirt and grime of prison marring her body. At least she had eaten a good meal, the first for fifteen years. Some meat and vegetables. Real meat, too. Looking at herself in the mirror, she nodded to herself as she saw that all the dirt had finally gone. And that she really needed to put some weight on – ribs poking out against her skin was not the sign of a strong fighter.

A knock sounded on the door. "Come in!" She rasped, her voice cracked from disuse.

The door opened and Narcissa stepped through, only slightly bothered about seeing her sister's skeletal naked body. "How are you feeling?" Bellatrix glared at her. "Aside from everything. Do you feel better than you were yesterday?"

"Everything feels better than yesterday, Narcissa." She responded, taking the black cotton bathrobe that her sister offered and pulling it on herself. Oh, such soft material! And clean!

"Would you like to share a room with Rodolphus? Or…"

Bellatrix frowned at her. "We haven't been in the same room for fifteen years, Narcissa. Of course I'd like to see him."

The blonde nodded. "I'll let him know."

She turned to leave when Bellatrix's voice stopped her. "Lucius tells me that you spoke to her."

"Who?" She knew who.

She whispered sadly, "Hermione." Neither of them said anything for a moment. "How was she?" She mustn't cry! She hadn't cried in fifteen years, she wasn't going to now!

"She was beautiful. And smart and funny. With Rodolphus' eyes and your looks." 'Keep the tears back, keep them back!' "You'll be so proud of her." With that, Bellatrix cried. For the first time in fifteen years, Bellatrix Lestrange cried. Tears she hadn't known she had streamed down her gaunt face as Narcissa quickly pulled her into a tight embrace.

"My baby! They took my baby!" She wailed into her younger sister's shoulder.

"I know." Narcissa cooed. "I know they did. But we'll get her back. I promise you, Bella, we will get her back!"

!"!

How long does it take to find a file! Hermione sat impatiently in the chair in Rabbs' office as she waited for him to come back from the Hall of Records. He'd left twenty minutes ago and she was quickly losing her patience. Which was a hard thing for Hermione to do. She'd instructed Ron on Potions, for Merlin's sake! Drumming her fingers on the arms of the chair and looking around the office, she huffed. After his outburst and her question, Mr Rabbs had sighed, politely asked her to sit back down and told her that he would go and search for her file. That was twenty-two minutes ago! Just as she was about to stand up and leave, the door opened and Mr Rabbs entered the room, a red file in his hands.

"I'm sorry about the wait, Miss Granger."

"Not all." She brushed off. "So is that it? That's my file?"

He sighed and shifted in his seat, placing the file in front of him. "I will try to explain this, Miss Granger. You are not the first teenager to come in here and ask for their records." That didn't surprise Hermione so she waited for him to continue. "Once you know…There's no going back. You can't…Un-know something! You can still leave."

"I don't want to leave, I want to know." She said firmly.

He sighed and picked up the file. "Very well." Hermione took the folder and saw that it held her name on it. "When you were legally adopted by the Grangers, we changed the name. Your real birth certificate is inside the flap."

Hermione opened the folder and turned it around so she could read it. And immediately wished she hadn't.

Hermione Narcissa Lestrange

Born: 19th September 1979

Weighed: 7lb, 4oz.

Mother: Bellatrix Lestrange, née Black

Father: Rodolphus Lestrange

Born at: Malfoy Manor

NOTE: Removed from Lestrange care after their arrest.

Her parents were the Lestranges? Holy cricket…

"I didn't want you to see that, Miss Gr…Lestrange. Because…Your parents…They were among the prisoners that broke-out of Azkaban yesterday." Hermione looked up, her eyes filled with tears. "And there isn't a doubt in my mind that they will come for you. I'm so sorry, Miss Lestrange."