Thank you all for reading! Flagging up front that yes I played around with birth dates to fit my AU. Enjoy!
June 17, 1979
Rodolphus was keenly aware of the eyes that bore into him while he sat four seats over from the Dark Lord, the eager members of the outer circle shifting from foot to foot where they stood. The scent of desperation wafting over to the inner circle was almost palpable. He knew that there were many that would kill for a seat at the table, willing to do anything necessary to get into the good graces of the man they revered and feared.
And he wasn't a fool- he also knew that they wondered how he was seated so close to the Dark Lord, only separated on both sides by six of his brethren. Those in the top echelon of the ever-changing inner circle were smart enough to know that the Dark Lord was slow to trust and quick to anger. That's why Rodolphus listened to the impassioned shouts of his normally stoic fellows with a blank look on his face.
"They are thieves! Stealing magic from historic lines, causing the increase of squib births in noble house across the wizarding world," spat Domitian Borgin, almost frothing at the mouth in anger from where he stood the front of the outer circle.
"Ah, Domitian, seems your father's lack of intelligence is an inherited trait. A pity," drawled Abraxas Malfoy from where he sat, directly at the right hand of the Dark Lord. The Minister of Magic was a powerful man from an even more powerful family, only overshadowed by their Lord. "While mudbloods are nothing more than a speck of dirt on my dragonhide boots, the truth remains the same. Our people's ancestral history is a rich and tangled web, but all my research has shown that mudbloods have a squib or magical relative somewhere in their lines, be it six or more generations back."
"Be that as it may, there is more harm than good done when we let this filth into our world. It doesn't just stop with one- their parents, grandparents and siblings all have knowledge that puts us at risk. Look what muggles did to one another during their world war. Bombs, guns-" said Xanthos Lovegood from the end of the table, hands gesturing wildly as though he'd lost his mind. Most thought he had, admittedly, the blond always droning on about nargles and liggliwhatsits.
"A bum?" asked Domitian, his gaunt face looking particularly ugly with the addition of a confused expression.
"A bomb," Xanthos enunciated with a pitying glare at the dumb man. How did you expect to lord over muggles if you knew nothing about their world? "A device that operates like an entrail-expelling curse, only able to decimate hundreds of millions of people at once. Muggles are bloodthirsty and dangerous with no preservation for their own kind. Can we even predict the harm that would befall our wives and precious children if we let them into our society?"
"Point well taken, Xanthos," said Abraxas with a nod towards his fellow bleach blond companion. "But magical Britain is dying out without the infusion of new blood. How are we to grow our population and ranks if not for mudbloods and half-bloods?"
"My Lord, if I may," said Thaddeus Nott from where he sat to Rodolphus' right, one seat closer to the Dark Lord. "The numbers don't lie. We see the impacts of decades of inter-family breeding in our own ranks. Previously fertile pure-blood families, such as the Greengrasses and my own, have seen one child born for three generations now. The Peverells and Burkes have a spinster left each, two more lines that will cease to exist in mere years. We must insulate our ranks, and these mudbloods can solve the problem for us."
For the first time during the raucous debate, the Dark Lord spoke. Rodolphus was well-trained by his late father and didn't even flinch as the handsome, raven-hair man spoke.
"And how do you suggest we do that, Thaddeus? Invite mudbloods and their relatives into our world, trusting they'll exhibit the goodwill they deign show each other?"
"No, my Lord," Thaddeus spoke quickly, his nervousness only revealed by the twitch of his eye. The man was a scrawny creep, but he was smart. "By magic only contained in the grimoire of ancient pure-blood families – a blood rite. Hogwarts has a magical book that updates with the names of mudbloods the first time they display accidental magic which then allows the Headmaster to know who is granted admission each year.
"If we are to take possession of this book, we can then take these magical children from their parents before they're old enough to know of the muggle world."
"What will we do when these families start to look for their children?" asked Bancroft Avery from halfway down the table, his son Munson seated to his left.
"Depending on our Lord's grace, we can either obliviate or kill the muggles who spawn the children," said Thaddeus.
"What of their upbringing?" asked the Dark Lord succinctly, his face blank.
"The Nott family grimoire contains many blood magic rituals, of course, one being that of adoption. We are to place these children with pure-blood families at your behest, my Lord, and make them pure by blood magic. This magic is so strong in ancient families that children will take on the physical traits of the family they are adopted into."
"If I may, my Lord," spoke Regulus Black from where he sat next to Rodolphus' brother, Rabastan. "My aunt Cassiopeia is a Black by the means of this very magic. My grandfather claimed her as our own after killing her half-blood mother and father in a duel. She is no less pure than me- the Black vaults and property wards all recognize her as one of our own. There is no greater test of this magic's veracity than Gringotts."
Rodolphus was glad to know his wife as well as he did, sharing a quick glance with both Abraxas and Lucius Malfoy as the only woman in the room let out a hiss at the mention of her aunt.
"Pure by saving grace, not the birthing canal she came out from," Bellatrix said with a look towards her cousin, causing murmurs from the outer circle at her unladylike gall.
The Dark Lord didn't give the woman to his left a look or a response before asking, "Raise your hand if your line would adopt one of these children or believe your pure-blood brethren should do so. If we were to partake in this endeavor, they would be yours by blood, no different from those, as Bellatrix so eloquently stated, that come from your wife's birth canal."
Titters erupted at the Lord's unexpected, but increasingly common quip while the majority of hands around the room went up. At the table, only Bellatrix and the Dark Lord remained with their hands down. Rodolphus didn't look at his wife, knowing the look that would be on her face if he were to gaze into her crazed eyes.
"If I may, my Lord," drawled Severus Snape from the end of the table, his long black hair covering half of his deathly pale face. "What role will the Ministry play in our plans? Certainly we cannot expect the Order and those of the purported light to simply go along with this."
The handsome man at the head of the table simply inclined his right hand towards Abraxas.
"It is very good for our cause that the Minister of Magic is on board, then, isn't it?" Abraxas said with a bark of haughty laughter. The man was a pompous arse, but as brilliant and cunning as they come. A Slytherin among mere garden snakes. "We simply have one of our own bring up legislation at the next meeting of the Wizengamot where we vote. Our numbers vastly outweigh any opposition, and we are more than capable of swaying members without allegiance to Dumbledore's so-called cause. The next meeting of the full body is in a fortnight, so we will start whipping votes in the morning."
"Very well. I am certain I'll have an earful from our beloved headmaster in no time," said the Dark Lord with an attractive smirk curled on his lips. The Dark Lord, or Professor Riddle, was the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, where he was under the watchful eye of current headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Or so the doddering old fool believed.
Tom Riddle was where he was for a simple reason, Rodolphus thought. He was unapologetic, willing to move forward on the bold agenda to close their world off to any and all threats in order to prosper. All it took was one encounter with a muggle for any bystander to know that wizards were superior in each way- there was no contest. Muggles may have their violent tools and vastly outnumber those in wizarding Britain, but the sheer power of magic was enough to overwhelm the entire population. Yet, the Dark Lord was more merciful and less bloodthirsty than Albus Dumbledore would ever let his hapless followers know.
"Abraxas will make himself available to answer for any and all concerns on the upcoming vote. Continue to ponder the best course of action as we move towards a greater and more prosperous world for our kind."
The outer circle took this as their cue to exit, silently and quickly walking out of the drawing room in Malfoy Manor.
Once the doors shut, leaving only the Dark Lord and his current most trusted 13 servants, he spoke again.
"I believe obliviation is an acceptable means of acquiring the children that are rightfully ours. I am a merciful man, after all."
"My Lord, will you require a list of the families you deem worthy of such a child?" Asked Lucius, speaking for the first time that evening.
"That would be most helpful, wouldn't it? Abraxas, gather the names of those that believe their lines worthy of such a child within our circle. We'll be required, of course, to include the names of several outside of our circle to quell the outrage surely to come."
"Absolutely, my Lord."
"Rodolphus and Rabastan, you've been awfully quiet this evening. Do you share Bellatrix's thoughts on this venture?"
Rabastan smartly kept his eyes down and mouth shut, deferring to his older -and more mild-mannered- brother.
"I think it's a wise idea, my Lord. The Lestrange line has but two left and has not seen a daughter in six generations. We would be grateful to prosper once more."
Bellatrix scoffed at her husband's sentiment, drawing no notice from those who were now numb to both her presence and acidity after repeated exposure.
"Very gracious words, Rodolphus. You seem to be willing to go against your wife's wishes, something I hear is a dangerous move."
Light laughter erupted around the table for the second time that evening.
"My father taught my brother and I that nothing is more precious than continuing the Lestrange bloodline, my Lord. I am only hoping to fulfill his last wish."
Rabastan's lips twitched, a tell only known by Rodolphus as him holding back laughter.
"Your father was one of my best. We shall see if his dying wish is granted."
Rodolphus nodded stiffly, simultaneously terrified and elated at the prospect of bringing a Lestrange heir into this world.
—
January 11, 1980
Maintaining an ancient pure-blood estate with a wife who'd rather burn down muggle bookshops than order about house elves was a full time job. Rodolphus was in the middle of writing a letter for a donation of duplicate texts to Hogwarts when the fire in his study turned green, Lucius' head immediately popping out.
"Come through to the manor immediately," the man said before popping out of sight.
Despite his visceral fear and hatred for his wife, Rodolphus was close with his brother and sister-in-law. Thankfully, Bellatrix graduated from Hogwarts four years ahead of the Malfoys and himself, giving them a few sweet years of reprieve.
Rodolphus grabbed a handful of Floo powder before shouting "Malfoy Manor," stepping into the lavish entryway of Lucius' residence. He schooled his features at the sight of the Dark Lord, both Malfoy men, Nott, Severus Snape, Antonin Dolohov and Jorund Rowle standing in a semicircle with rapt attention on whatever was in front of them.
The latter two were outside of Rodolphus' virtually nonexistent circle of trust, the former man his classmate at Hogwarts who had always been as silent as a serial killer and the second a mountain of a man who had proved himself through vague personal connections with Wizarding communities throughout Europe.
"Ah, Rodolphus," the Dark Lord said with a lazy look over his shoulder. The Floo sounded immediately, Rabastan and Regulus stepping out in tandem with poorly concealed confusion on their faces. The elder Lestrange didn't have to look at Severus to know he was cursing the fools for the way they forgot their occlumency training in almost every situation.
"The whole family is here, how wonderful," said the Dark Lord with a small, potentially genuine smile on his face. He gestured the trio forward with a small wave.
Hidden in front of the tall men were three Malfoy elves and Narcissa Malfoy, who was cradling a small bundle in her arms. Rodolphus could make no pertinent observations, much to his frustration, surmising that she was holding Draco, a scene he'd seen countless times since the boy was born two months prior. It only took her rocking side-to-side slightly for the man to see that the baby's hair was a dark brown rather than the telltale Malfoy platinum.
"This right here is Jean. Her name appeared in the Hogwarts admissions book that Severus has been keeping an eye on. At under four months old, she was already sick enough of her muggle relatives to show an impressive display of accidental magic, ripping up every inch of carpet from her former home. Perhaps she was angry with the matronly muggle name that was chosen for her by dear Helen and Richard Granger?"
The men in attendance guffawed at their Lord's joke. Everyone wanted to encourage his rare humorous side, in the hopes it'd come out more frequently, regardless of how morbid said humor was.
"It looks like your father will get his wish and the Lestrange family will indeed see another daughter. Narcissa, be a dear and let Rodolphus hold the child"
Narcissa gave Rodolphus a small smile, knowing full well that her diminutive form and hospitable pureblood persona protected her from a second thought. It was the strongest power a beautiful pure-blood woman held- perceived innocence. The elder Lestrange let out a small gasp when he carefully held the tiny girl, taking in her face for the first time.
Her hair was a beautiful combination of gold and chocolate locks, and Rodolphus knew it'd grow to be even more striking as the girl grew. Her pert nose was slightly scrunched in her sleep, highlighting the light dusting of freckles on her face. He was dying to know what color eyes she had and if they'd turn the same shade of bright blue that was a ubiquitous feature of Lestrange's.
"It's time to perform the ritual. Thaddeus, please get us started."
"Yes, my Lord. Let me grab the grimoire from my estate, I'll return shortly."
With that, the weedy man scurried off, throwing powder in the fireplace.
"Bellatrix sends her regrets for not being able to attend this family affair. She's tied up elsewhere, unfortunately."
Narcissa's face grew pale at this admission from the man. No one wanted to know what the woman got up to on a daily basis. The less time Bellatrix spent in their presence, the better.
"No worries, my Lord. As paterfamilias, my blood is sufficient to complete the spell, but Rabastan's will help strengthen the girl's tie to the Lestrange line. As Bellatrix is a Lestrange by marriage, her presence will not enhance the bond in any meaningful way," The man let it go unsaid that having Bellatrix magically tied to the baby would result in unthinkable consequences for everyone involved, especially the innocent life held in his arms.
"Very well," said the Dark Lord. Eyes boring into Nott where he had begun setting up for the ritual.
"It's very simple," Thaddeus began, looking down as he opened the grimoire to a page he'd surely memorized before he'd even presented his idea to the Dark Lord. "Lestrange blood goes into the potion I've here, the girl drinks it while both you and Rabastan lay a hand on her. The spell is here."
Rabastan walked towards his brother, making eye contact before quickly resuming a stoic facade. His brother was always amazed at his ability to become nothing more than a shell of the vivacious man he knew him to be. It was what allowed him to survive in the dangerous crowd they found themselves immersed in.
Thaddeus used a ceremonial dagger to slice a small cut on both Lestrange brothers' hands, adding the blood to a now vibrant gold potion.
"Narcissa, if you will," Thaddeus said, handing over the potion in explicit instruction to the only woman among them. With a quick wave of her hand the mixture was transferred to what could only be a baby bottle.
The younger Lestrange laid a large hand over the little girl's cheek, almost covering her entire face with his gentle touch. The brothers began to chant as Narcissa cooed for the sleeping little girl to open her mouth, pressing a manicured finger into the hinge of her tiny jaw ever so gently.
Rodolphus would never share, not even with his brother, but his heart squeezed painfully at the way the little girl began snuffling the plastic nipple, looking confused as though she longed for the warmth of her mother's breast. It was the first of comforts the girl would lose in the quest to better their world- Rodolphus made a foolish promise with himself he knew he couldn't keep. But he swore his little girl would want for nothing and know nothing but love.
"Sed partus in sanguine alieno. Purissimum ac per sanguinem. tuta fatis antiqua stirpe."
A glowing cerulean light surrounded the four, the little girl obediently continuing to drink despite her eyes that were now wrenched open in awe at the scene in front of her. With an explosion of light as the Lestranges finished the chant a seventh time, the infant fell limp in Rodolphus' arms, mouth going lax and dropping the almost empty bottle into Narcissa's small hand.
"She will wake up once her body has reconciled the change. Don't be alarmed if she develops a new coloring in a few hours, that is perfectly normal. Yaxley will be over in the morning to get the necessary paperwork sorted out," Thaddeus said, eyes gleaming with the proud look of a mad scientist whose experiment has gone perfectly.
"Send word when the girl is awake, I should like to see her." said the Dark Lord before apparating with a loud crack.
Rodolphus held the girl infinitesimally tighter to his chest, moving towards the Floo.
"Narcissa, I'll surely be in touch tomorrow with some questions. Would you mind terribly if a few of our elves popped over here for supplies before the shops open tomorrow morning?"
The woman gracefully moved towards the pair, eyes focused on the baby in her brother-in-law's arms.
"Of course, I'll have Draco's nanny elf prepare a basket now and head over."
"Thank you, Cissy," he said, bending down to kiss the woman's soft alabaster cheek. She laid a soft hand on the girl's tiny forehead, stroking an emerald green nail down her face in reverence. Her eyes held the words she did not dare speak in front of those who were not family- Rodolphus knew it was only a short time before they reconvened at Lestrange Manor.
Despite knowing the girl was out like a light, Rodolphus moved quietly into the floo before stepping back into his study as the tight wards only allowed him to do.
"Gildy," the man said immediately, the Lestrange's head elf immediately popping into the room despite wearing a lilac sleeping sack and bonnet.
"Master Roddy, Gildy is here to help," croaked the half-asleep elf robotically, huge eyes opening wider at the sight of the baby. Elves loved babies.
Rodolphus played around with the explanation he'd surely give countless times in the days ahead, figuring that less information was certainly better in the situation he now found himself in.
Despite the Wizengamot's approval of the measure and creation of a Muggleborn Registration Commission, there were those who were weary. Rodolphus understood their concerns, though he kept them to himself. It was difficult to imagine the application of a law that said once a muggleborn child was recognized, the Ministry of Magic could go in, extract them from the only life they've ever known, and erase the memory of their loved ones. It was fucking bonkers.
On top of that, there was the backlash of the muggleborns in their society who had to make the decision of obliviating their close family members or undergoing obliviation and leaving their society themselves. It was abrupt, cried a large portion of their population, it was wrong. Yet, all but a dozen muggleborns had their families obliviated. Magic was indeed mightier than anything muggle.
Dumbledore had went toe-to-toe with the minister on behalf of his students, leading to their family's immunity until graduation. In true Abraxas fashion, the win was nothing but a win on the surface. The muggleborns at Hogwarts were made to stay with wizarding families over their summers until their graduation, cutting off their connection from the muggle world indefinitely. It would give those at Hogwarts the chance to see that their world was better for them, and the loss of their muggle family members that they'd
Rodolphus steeled himself. He, and his daughter by proxy, were now the poster-children of the Ministry's newest undertaking. It was his duty to sell his belief in the process, both publicly and privately.
"This is my daughter, Gildy. I apologize but wake the prudent elves and prepare a suite for her. You also must ensure the manor has necessary supplies for a four-month-old. The Malfoy elves are preparing a basket and have any supplies you might need before the shops open, please be sure to send an elf over there."
Gildy's excitement grew at the prospect of having more than just three grown men to take care of -and a she-devil to avoid- nodding rapidly at the man's instructions.
"Oh yes, Gildy will, Master Roddy. We elves is proud to raise another perfect Lestrange baby! A girl! Oh, thank you Master, we is so grateful."
Rodolphus gave the sweet creature a tight-lipped smile and a nod, Gildy disappearing. He was glad the elves quarters were on the other side of the manor as he was sure their excited cheers would wake even the strongest of spell-induced rests.
The Lestrange patriarch sat behind his desk gently, using his foot to rhythmically move the chair right and left to soothe the baby.
"Welcome to this crazy world, sweetheart," Rodolphus said quietly, his throat feeling uncharacteristically dry. "You'll want for nothing and I'll protect you from everything and everyone. This I vow."
A light golden light settled where Rodolphus' hands cradled the girl, the waves slowly settling into the baby's skin. It was the first of many promises he would surely make to the girl, and it was one he would risk his life to uphold. Hell nor high water, his wife nor the Dark Lord nor Albus Dumbledore would harm a head on his heir's head.
A soft knock sounded on the door to the study, Rabastan peeking his head in a moment later.
"We have guests, brother." The younger Lestrange let himself in, followed by Regulus, the Malfoys, and Severus Snape.
As the group sat down, a young elf popped in.
"Master, we is having a Mr. Roll here."
The elf stuttered over the name, but Rodolphus already knew who it was. He just wondered why he was there.
"Rowle, to what do we owe the pleasure?" Rodolphus asked when the man was shown in minutes later, finding it easy to maintain his aloof persona even with a baby cradled in his well-muscled arms.
The seven-foot tall man stood up straight, a concerned look on his handsome face. He was said to be descended from Norse Gods, his distant relatives some Viking of note. He'd joined their forces from Norway, an esteemed and ancient European pure-blood family looking to reshape the Wizarding world.
"Lestrange, I apologize for intruding at such a late hour and mean no offense. I just wish to warn you of what I've heard. My family is not from here, we have no part to play in squabbles not set to bring our kind into power once more. Weeks ago, while at the Withering Whistle in Knockturn I overheard Madam Lestrange telling someone she plans for any and all children taken via blood rite to suffer accidents. I worry your child is in danger, even if she is your wife."
The man, though he stood almost a foot taller and wider than all of those in the room, looked as though he expected to get hexed at the insinuation that Bellatrix was a crazy and bloodthirsty bint. He would find no surprise or opposition from those in the study.
"I am most grateful that you overheard this conversation and felt prudent to share, Rowle. I will certainly take this into consideration as we welcome my daughter to the manor," Rodolphus said, allowing a slight warmth into his tone as he made eye contact with the man.
"It is my duty- children are sacred, and daughters are to be cherished above all else. In the tradition of my people, I pledge my word and magic that I will protect your daughter from harm and my kin will do the same. Do you acknowledge and accept the protection of the Rowles?"
Rabastan's eyes widened and met Regulus', the Black reaching down to squeeze his partner's hand. Hope flooded the pair, fear of Bellatrix's wrath abating slightly at the words of a man they barely knew and did not count one of their own.
"House Lestrange acknowledges and accepts the protection of House Rowle, placing the Lestrange heir's safety above all else. So mote it be."
Rodolphus clasped hands with Jorund Rowle, a gold strand weaving around the pair to once again gently settle under his daughter's skin.
"I will be in touch. My son, Thorfinn, is almost four. Perhaps they'll be friends one day," Jorund said with a smile, giant hand reaching out to touch the baby as though she was made of glass.
"Thank you. Once she's settled I'll be sure to set up a time for tea," Rodolphus said, once more taking on the duties of a House's Lady that Bellatrix ignores.
The man stepped into the Floo, shouting Rowle Tower before leaving Rodolphus' inner circle.
"Well," Lucius drawled, taking a seat on a leather chair in front of Rodolphus' desk and gently pulling his wife onto his lap. "That was unexpected."
"Bellatrix's killer tendencies, not quite. Rowle's pledge of allegiance, indeed." Said Severus Snape. The man was Rabastan and Regulus' closest confidant, a valued member of the inner circle despite his young age and decidedly unfortunate upbringing.
"This little girl has the power to bring together all of the Wizarding world," Narcissa said solemnly, eyes glued to Rodolphus'. "We must all pledge our protection and duty to ensure she is brought up properly in our world."
"I am grateful. Narcissa, I'd be honored if you'd be her Godmother. It's safe to say that my wife will be nothing of a mother to her, and I'd like her to grow up knowing the love of one."
The beautiful woman smiled radiantly, her eyes wet in a way she'd only ever allow those closest to her to see. She moved over to behind the desk, kneeling gracefully and placing a hand over the baby's heart.
"It will be as though she is my own- I've always wanted a daughter to spoil and nurture. The Lestrange heir will be my daughter to love, cherish, teach and protect, by the grace of the fates- this I swear as Godmother."
"Lucius, I would be honored for you to be her Godfather. She has much to learn to bring her into our world, as do all children, and I trust no one more to ensure she is fully integrated and protected."
The blond man smiled thinly, standing up from his chair and walking over to kneel, pressing a soft kiss to his beloved wife's cheek. He placed his hand on the child next to his wife's.
"On my magic, I will raise the Lestrange heir as though she were my own, protect her, and guard her honor and virtue as a father and as her Godfather, teach and discipline her alongside Draco and ensure she wants for nothing. This I swear as her Godfather."
"House Lestrange acknowledges and accepts the protection of House Malfoy, placing the Lestrange heir's safety above all else. So mote it be."
For the fourth time since they entered the room, a gold light settled into the girl's chest.
"As the beloved and favorite uncle of the Lestrange heir, I pledge my magic to defend our princess' honor, protect her from all threats, raise her knowing the ways of our ancient family, and ensure she wants for nothing. By the grace of the fates and the Lestrange line- this I swear as her uncle," said Rabastan, having moved around the table to place a hand on his niece's cheek.
"As Lestrange paterfamilias, I acknowledge and accepts the protection of the House spare, placing our heir's safety above all else. So mote it be."
Both Severus and Regulus made their way to kneel before the infant, making quite a sight if anyone were to see.
"As the true favorite uncle of the Lestrange heir, I pledge to bring joy to her life, attempt to ensure she knows nothing of the bigotry and hatred that claims our kind, defend her honor and protect against those who wish to harm her, and ensure she wants for nothing. By the power vested in the most ancient and noble House of Black- this I swear as her uncle," said Regulus after placing a hand on her other baby soft cheek.
"House Lestrange acknowledges and accepts the protection of the most ancient and noble House of Black, placing the Lestrange heir's safety above all else. So mote it be."
"As the appointed uncle of the Lestrange heir, I pledge to educate her on all things easily known and difficult to learn, defend her honor against all threats, including foolish Hogwarts boys, protect her against those who wish to harm her, and ensure she wants for nothing. By the fates- this I swear as her uncle," said Severus, hand placed over her tiny feet.
"House Lestrange acknowledges and accepts the protection of Severus Snape, last of House Prince, placing the Lestrange heir's safety above all else. So mote it be."
One last gold light settled into her sternum, the huddle of humanity causing an outpouring of warm magic to settle evenly among the group.
"Her birth mother's name was Helen. Her father was Richard. Helen of Troy is said to have had one child, Hermione. A little girl who was heartbroken when her mom sailed away and left her to fend for herself. May we change the trajectory for our own Hermione."
"Hermione Theia Lestrange," Rodolphus murmured, his kneeling family members smiling. "Mother of the Sun, Theia, goddess of many names, thanks to thee men ascribe to gold a strength exceeding all other powers."
"Our little golden princess, Hermione Theia," Rabastan whispered, awe on his face as he took in the girl.
"A princess indeed," Lucius said, the eldest man standing up and shaking the group from their reverie after a few minutes.
"Roddy, I'll be over in the morning." Narcissa said, bending over to kiss the man's cheek and brush Hermione's soft hair back.
The Malfoys, Severus and Regulus left, leaving only the three Lestranges in the study.
"And then there were three," Rabastan said with a small smirk, perching himself on Rodolphus' desk.
Gildy took that moment to pop into the room quietly, two other elves with her. They all looked prouder than either Lestrange man had seen, a manic gleam in their eyes despite the late hour.
"Gildy has help from Pippet and Ruthy to take care of our little mistress. We make the mistress suite into a beautiful room for our princess. Master Roddy can choose colors tomorrow."
"This is Hermione Theia," Rodolphus said, pressing a kiss to the girl's forehead before handing her to the elf. "Please get her ready to sleep, and I'll be there shortly."
The trio of elves let out simultaneous coos when the baby was placed into Gildy's arms, the old elf acting as though she hadn't raised the two men standing in front of her.
"Gildy, you act as though you haven't ever raised a baby," Rabastan noted drolly as he stared fondly at the elf.
The elf in question sniffed imperiously, "Gildy has never raised a princess. She raises many boys. Little miss is special."
"Little Miss is perfect," agreed Pippet, awe on the little elf's face as she stared at the first Lestrange female by blood in seven generations.
"We see Master Roddy soon. But not too soon, Lestrange elves can take care of little miss," Gildy stated in what felt like a warning to the older man, and he watched as the three elves walked out the door with his daughter towards his suite of rooms.
"You'd think Gildy would get less terrifying the older we get," Rabastan remarked with a shake of his head.
"No one keeps me on my toes like her," Rodolphus agreed, letting it go unsaid that she was likely to win in a toe to toe match up with the Dark Lord himself.
Rabastan let out a small laugh while taking out his wand and throwing up wards on the door.
"What are we going to do, Dolph?" The younger brother asked quietly, concern gleaming in his bright blue eyes. The men looked similar, both with golden brown hair and blue eyes. Their skin was sun kissed year round, a trait they appreciated in gloomy England. Rabastan was classically handsome with his longer hair and lithely muscled frame. Rodolphus was taller by a few inches, though his brother stood at six foot himself. The older man had more thickly corded muscle, a testament to the exercise routine that he'd now have to rethink with a baby in the house.
"We're going to raise our heir and keep her the hell away from my wife," Rodolphus replied. Despite a shared place at the Dark Lord's table, the older man was prone to shielding his younger brother from the horrors of the world and, more specifically, his wife.
"Do you really believe you'll be able to do that? She's going to have to pretend to care for the girl in social settings and will certainly have something to say about you adopting a daughter without her knowledge."
Rodolphus tipped his head in understanding, "Yes, but you're also underestimating her submission to the Dark Lord's will. We were handpicked to spearhead this effort, and she won't jeopardize her place at the Dark Lord's right hand."
"Brother, I know you're smarter than to underestimate Bella. How are we supposed to sleep at night knowing Hermione could be killed or tortured whenever your batshit wife is looking for a little fun?"
"Despite Dumbledore's beliefs, not all Slytherins are sorted due to bloodthirsty tendencies," Rodolphus then called for all the elves, a trick he learned from his mother's excessive gala hosting when he was a child.
The additional 28 Lestrange elves popped into the study with an additional elf that neither brother noticed, the creatures small enough to not be crammed in the room. All 60 golf ball-sized eyes were wide with anticipation despite the abrupt wake up call.
"Gildy, please go watch over Hermione," Rabastan said decisively. The head elf apparated with a pop.
"As Lestrange elves, it is your duty above all else is to protect the Lestrange family line and upkeep our home. Tomorrow you will have the chance to meet my daughter, Hermione. As of today, you will make it your duty above all else to guard her life against harm. My wife is not a Lestrange by blood and is to be treated as any other stranger and threat- that is an order. Do you understand?"
The elves all nodded.
"Us elves will protect the precious mistress baby!" piped up Gemmy, the head kitchen elf. There was a quiet roar of agreement among the elves, Rodolphus giving a quiet thank you and letting them know, no, they did not need tea or biscuits, before the brothers were left alone again.
"Well, brother. You're a lot smarter than your wife gives you credit for," Rabastan said as he hopped off the finally carved mahogany desk.
"Let's hope that means something in the days ahead," Rodolphus muttered, standing up from his leather desk chair.
"Goodnight brother. Reg and I will be in our room if you need anything," the younger man said with a tight lipped smile. Regulus had moved into the manor three years ago after the pair had graduated from Hogwarts, having no desire to live with his wretched mother at Grimmauld Place, not that either brother could blame him. The woman was an absolute terror on a good day, and that was without the addition of knowing her son was going to marry another man and leave the House of Black in Sirius' incapable hands.
Feeling older than his 23 years, Rodolphus made his way into the mistress suite where Gildy stood watch over the baby sleeping in the same crib that has held over 10 generations of Lestrange children.
"Gildy, you can go for the evening. Please come to my study after breakfast to discuss what needs to be done," Rodolphus said.
The elf nodded, a look of unrestrained longing on her face as she stared at the sleeping baby.
"Gildy is leaving a warm bottle of milk for precious little mistress here. Mistress will want her mother's milk, but Gildy cannot help. She will be sad, but she must learn to like cow milk," the elf said, looking at the man as if she expected him to lash out over something neither of them can change.
The man gave a nod of assent, knowing there was nothing to be said for the fucked up situation this baby, his baby, found herself in.
He settled into the surprisingly comfortable rocking chair in the corner of the room, quietly impressed with the fact that the elves had quickly transformed the room into one fit for a princess, lilac paint on the walls and varying shades of purple and white furniture in the large room.
Traditionally, the mistress suite was used for Lestrange wives to have privacy, but Rodolphus put his foot down at his arranged marriage with Bellatrix Black Lestrange. The woman lived on the opposite side of the stately manor in the west wing, as far away from the Lestrange brothers as possible. In addition to giving him peace of mind knowing he wasn't going to get murdered by a mad woman in his sleep, it allowed him to protect the wing with blood wards so he knew when she was coming and going.
Roldolphus was consumed by a whirlwind of what ifs as he thought about his daughter's future, wondering morbidly if she'd even live past tomorrow. He wasn't an emotional man. He was the product of generations of apathetic men, raised as a typical pureblood male whose sole purpose was to perpetuate his bloodline and line the family Gringott's vault, but he felt choked up as he thought about the life that was now in his hands.
As if she could sense his distress, Hermione started to sniffle sadly, lips making the same sucking motion that, until a few hours ago, was surely followed by a relieving trip to her mother's breast. The man hoped the habit of bottle feeding was one she picked up quickly because he couldn't stand the saddened confusion that he'd now seen on the girl's face twice.
He held out a hand, wordlessly summoning the warm bottle that Gildy had left. Operating on assumptions, he guessed the girl was hungry since she'd made the same face earlier.
"Here you are Hermione," Rodolphus crooned, trying to maneuver the nipple into her little mouth without shoving it halfway down her throat. No one told him that babies were tiny, breakable little things. She latched quickly, snuffling away with a furrowed look on her brow as though she was wondering what the hell was in her mouth. Thankfully, her eyes stayed closed as she drank.
Her mouth went lax shortly after, her body still and relaxed as she fell once more into a deep sleep. Rodolphus followed her into the land of dreams shortly after, rocking his daughter to sleep for the first time.
It took two days for Bellatrix to care enough to confront Rodolphus about the fact that she was now, for all intents and purposes, a mother.
The elves were enamored with their newest charge and blinked out of sight with her the moment that the wards rippled with the woman's attempted entry.
Rodolphus had no idea where they went, but he was more than happy to get her away from whatever was about to occur. With a lazy flick of his hand, he let the wards down to allow Bellatrix entry to his wing, taking a seat on a leather couch in the front living room.
"Hello husband. Where's the ickle mudblood?" Bellatrix said, eyes wide and crazed as though she expected the baby to pop out from the ceiling.
"She's with the elves," Rodolphus said. He knew it wasn't worth arguing that Hermione was just as much of a pure-blood as she was.
"Well, aren't you going to let me see her?" Bellatrix questioned with a pout and tilt of her head. The expression made her look like some sort of deranged dog and did not go far in endearing Rodolphus to her motives.
"She's sleeping, but I'll bring her to dinner and you'll be able to meet her there," he said, leaving it unspoken that Regulus, Rabastan, and the Malfoys would be there for backup as soon as things inevitably went sour.
The woman let out a scoff, turning around and leaving the wing without another word. As soon as her greasy mane was out of sight, Rodolphus reset the wards. It was going to be a long night.
"Oh look," Narcissa exclaimed with a delighted coo. "Draco likes her already."
The two little ones were lain in a large bassinet, the blond boy rolling over immediately to stare at Hermione who was slowly blinking. Much to Rodolphus' relief, her eyes were the bright blue that stamped her as a Lestrange when she woke up after the adoption ceremony. It was disconcerting to watch her features change, her dark hair turning the same golden brown as her father's and her bones subtly shrinking in size. With that alarming change, Rodolphus had started to look through familial records, discovering that Larita Lestrange, the line's last born daughter, was a tiny thing, barely reaching five feet at her full height. It was with that change that he knew he'd always have a niggling question in the back of his mind- who would Jean Granger have been if not for interference?
"How darling," a shrill voice drawled. "Letting your only son touch a mudblood, sister? I would think you'd know about the diseases they carry."
"Draco is touching a pure-blood, sister," Narcissa replied in a saccharinely sweet tone. Rodolphus and Lucius instinctively moved in front of the two infants, cutting off Bellatrix's view.
The woman let out a sharp cackle, and Hermione immediately began to cry at the noise. Before any of the adults could pick her up, Draco clumsily wrapped his arms around the small girl and began to make cooing noises into her hair. It astonished all of the adults present that the girl quieted rather quickly.
"Lucius, I'm sure your father will find this all… rather interesting," Bellatrix said with a small smirk.
In true Malfoy fashion, the man leveled his sister-in-law with a glare. "You just missed the minister, truly a pity. He believes that Hermione's adaptation to her new life is a sign of the success of the Dark Lord's new endeavor."
The woman, for all her bluster, was not quick on her feet when it came to verbal retorts. She let out a hiss in lieu of a reply.
Gemmy stepped into the dining room quietly, letting her master know that dinner was ready. At his grateful nod, a team of elves brought the first dish out to the table, a bubbling french onion soup.
In true pure-blood fashion, the group made their way to the table, Rodolphus and Lucius pulling out their wives' seats before taking a seat, the Lestrange at the head of the table.
"In celebration of our goddaughter, please accept this bottle of Château d'Yquem 1811 from Narcissa and myself," Lucius said, snapping his fingers before his personal elf appeared with the bottle in hand.
Regulus let out a low whistle while the others kept their reactions to the Malfoys gift of the most expensive wine in the world to themselves.
"I'll stick to whiskey," Bellatrix stated sharply, snapping her fingers impatiently before an elf scurried up with a decanter and a glass. Defying the rules of social etiquette, she demanded her glass be filled to the brim, rather than a two finger pour.
Unfortunately, everyone at the table was used to having a stock silent seven-course meal when Bella was present. The years had left them all with the understanding that the sound of scraping forks was better than having to discuss whatever was on the mad woman's mind. Rodolphus was amused by his thought midway through the main course of a salmon filet with chimichurri, when he realized that neither baby had made a noise through the dinner. It was a balm to his worry about his daughter's relationship with Bellatrix as she grew up. The fireworks were inevitable.
He'd deal with it when he had to. But for now, he'd enjoy her infancy- Narcissa did say that the days flew by faster than you could imagine.