Amoura Zabini grimaced as she looked down at the secret speakeasy that was one of the most popular places that the Potter Business owned in London, ever since the first Wizarding War. The African descended Sorceress was wearing a near skin tight white dress that had an hourglass opening that showed off her cleavage, but most didn't care about that really. Only in her very curvious, voluptuous body. She looked sourly as she leaned against the upper story railing, sipping from a wine glass that had been filled with a nearly hundred year old firewhiskey. The liquid burned down her throat as she sipped at it, watching as the magical and mundane mingled on the game floor. Of course, she watched the masses mingle as she sipped her drink before a man in a suit walked up to her and handed her an envelope with a wax seal.

"From Gringots, Ma'am," He whispered, his sharp grey eyes looking at the ground floor, "it seems like the purebloods are indulging in the mundane tonight."

Amoura snorted, "I have yet to see Malfoy not dip his fingers into the bodies of the muggle women, at super exorberent prices. The fool doesn't realize that if his seed creates life, they'll be kept away from him. That happened with Nott, Crabbe and Lestrange years ago, they still haven't learned why money is being pulled from the account to this day."

Amoura looked over the seal of wax before opening it with a fingernail, putting her glass on the railing top as she pulled out the papers. Inside was a missive from the goblin run bank, it was short and concise. Like everything Gringotts did, it was made to be simple and to the point.

To one Lady Amoura Zabini of House Zabini,

Gringotts has sent this message to inform you that one Harry James Potter has been brought in from the streets of London after his former relatives (Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley) tossed him out of Mr. Dursley's moving car. Please arrive at seven thirty tonight for a full briefing and for a legal consultation on what measures will be needed to be taken over one of our most profitable customers.

Gringotts Vault Manager Darkrott, Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter

Amoura felt her heart freeze before turning to the man, "Get the car started, the Potter Heir has been found by Gringotts."

"Of course, Ma'am," The man hurried off to do as he was told as Amoura incinerated the parchment paper before touching a finger to her earring.

"Susie," She muttered, before she heard the head of the section of the business known as the "Widow Room", answered.

"Yes Madam Zabini?"

"Send in Widows seven, thirteen and twenty-six," Amoura whispered, "The Dursley's have decided to end themselves tonight."

"Understood, Madam."

If anyone looked out on the streets of London that night, some of the residents would have found it odd that four highly armored cars escorted a limousine into the heart of the city. Most didn't realize this as the magic used kept people from looking too hard into the matter, given that the vehicles had runes carved at the microscopic level into the materials of the cars themselves. Amoura remembered the first car the James had brought so Lily could use her intelligence on all things magic on it, a 1932 Ford Model 18 V8. Of course, Lily rebuilt the car from the ground up when she created the cars that would be used by the Potter Business.

Tanks in car form, Lily's work had turned the old Ford Model 18 into more of a tank then it already was. Runes that hardened and strengthened the materials, added magical shielding for more standardized spells. The vehicles could tank Killing curses and high powered curses as well as heavy mundane weapons fire, artillery included. These super variations escorted the modified limousine into the city, the occupants checking weapons that had also been given the "Lily Treatment". As the vehicles closed in on the part of London that was used by the magicals, Amoura checked her custom weapon that Lily had crafted for her personally.

A Luger P-08 pistol, one that would never jam, be used against her or fail her. Amoura checked the ammo before reloading it, her eyes hardening as she slid the weapon into the custom sheath under her right arm. In the limousine with her were two of her bodyguards, Ammie and John Stringston. Twin siblings that were both squibs that formerly came from the Parkinson line but were adopted into a mundane family before Voldemort started his reign of terror. Ammie carried a PPSh-41 while her brother carried a Thompson sub-machine gun with a drum magazine, both magically altered.

The limousine parked in front of the Leaky Cauldron, the driver getting out and opening the door facing the pub. Amoura stepped out, followed by the siblings as more men and women in similar clothing. All of them wore suits, fedora's or something similar, like skirts for the women in some cases. The magically powerful sorceress led most of the armed group into the pub, causing many heads to turn.

"Keep your heads down," A rough voice growled, holding up a M60 machine gun, "and nobody is goin' to get hurt, capish?"

Tom, the bar man raised his hands as the other patrons did the same, not raising a finger to stop them. Amoura simply walked past them all with her entourage towards the back, through the wall and into Diagon Alley. She didn't stop to look at the shops or the whispering late shoppers as they quickly moved on, her focus only on one person. At the steps of Gringotts, four of the entourage broke off from the group to take up positions to ward off anyone entering the bank. Two more flanked the entrance, fingers tightening on their weapons. Amoura marched into the bank, followed by the dozen armed men and women as several of the tellers looked up.

She stepped away from the group towards a teller, the goblin had a pale green complexion but sharp black eyes. She waited a few moments before the Goblin looked up, his eyes taking in the room in one glance before refocusing on her.

"Madam Zabini, you're early," He said, amused.

Amoura hissed, nearly shoulding like a snake, "My godson was found in the streets, Goblin Teller, I would suggest you find Darkrott before your head is hung over the entrance for not getting him now."

The goblins around the room went stock still, as they had learned long ago not to mess with the Potters on matters of family, blood related or not. The teller simply tapped a gem that had been buried into the desk he was looking at before pointing to a pair of gold ornate doors.

"Darkrott gave specific instructions, Madam," He said, continuing to point, "He's in room three hundred and forty-one, on the right side."

Amoura signalled the armed escort and they moved through the doors, remaining silent as they moved towards the indicated door. Once they arrived, Amoura found the door open with the room looking like one of the offices she had seen before in her life. Behind the desk was a Goblin, one that was a dark green in color. His eyes were slitted red in color, as he put down the papers he had been holding.

"Amoura Zabini," He greeted, motioning to a high backed chair, "Sit. We have much to discuss over the incidents that have transpired tonight."

Amoura looked over at the bed the goblins had her godson laying in, her bodyguards flanking the entrance to the room as Goblin healers worked upon his body. They had just removed the soul shard of the Dark Wizard, Voldemort, from his scar as she and Darkrott had been talking. The first thing she had done was get the formerly sealed will of the Potters executed so the Harry Potter was protected from everyone. Being his Godmother, she should have been sent to him the moment that James and Lily were murdered. Turns out, that didn't fit the old headmaster's plan so off to the late Dursley's household he went. Nor was he sent to Sirius Black, who was busy looking into where the traitor Peter Pettigrew was in America.

Her eyes narrowed at that thought, the rat had been seen in America a year or so after Sirius was acquitted of "supposedly" murdering him, which Amoura wanted to have done but he lived and ran off. But Harry didn't go to either of them and now he was getting himself healed from a near fatal incident. Amoura also had the unfortunate news of learning that her godson had nearly been murdered every single year of Hogwarts. Her own son, Blaise Zabini, did his best to tell her of what was going on at Hogwarts but since he went to Slytherin and not Gryffindor, it was hard for him to tell her everything.

First year, the Dark Lord had used the DADA Professor as a host boy to try and steal the Philosopher's stone, Harry had ended the man's life thanks to Lily's magical protections. Second year, a Basilisk was set upon the school before Harry was able to take control away from the one who unleashed it fifty years ago. Third year, the year Bellatrix Lestrange escaped and seemed to be going after him. Of course, she learned from Blaise that Bellatrix had gone after the Weasley rat before it had vanished, supposedly being killed before reappearing at the end of the year thanks to Hagrid. Amoura shook her head, so many death attempts on her godson's like that she hadn't been able to help him because of a meddling old man and his delusions of grandeur of the greater good.

Amoura put a hand gently on Harry's forehead before whispering, "In life or death, I'll protect you, Harry."

Within the jungles of Africa, an anaconda sized snake slithered. It's black scales shimmering in the setting sun as it moved through the trees towards the river. Given that this wasn't a normal serpent, as this serpent of large proportions had the looks of a cobra instead of a python. The serpent continued its way towards the river before it found it, the slow waters rolling ever onwards. The snake's body shimmered and shifted before becoming the body of the Azkaban escapee, Bellatrix Lestrange. She looked around, her eyes flicking across the trees in a panic before she dived into the water.

"I thought I heard a splash over here!"

Bellatrix panicked even harder as her body reverted to her Egyptian Dark Cobra, a magical relative of the modern day Cobra family. The massive body knifed through the water as the African Aurors came out of the jungle and stared into the murky water.

"If she was here, she would have drowned," One of them said to the other, "That water is home to rabid piranha, we wouldn't even find her bones."

"Might as well report back to the boss then," The first said before the two apparated away with soft pops.

Bellatrix lifted her head out of the water before swimming back towards shore, her body aching as she slithered out of the cold. She had been on the run ever since that botched assassination of Pettigrew, now she had really gotten herself into a bind here in the African jungles. She curled her elongated body up to try and warm herself before something hissed to her right. She jumped, hood extending as she prepared to defend herself from whatever had made that sound.

Pausing, she found herself snout to snout with a rather attractive male Cobra of some species she couldn't identify. The male Cobra had his hood open as well, his dark gold scales looking rather attractive in the setting sun. Bellatrix, if she had been in her right mind, would have left the moment she saw this mating display. However, her years at Azkaban had left her mind very weak and not as organized as it once had been. She quickly fell for the display and allowed herself to become one with her animal partner, if only for tonight.

In the morning, Bellatrix awoke to find herself back to her normal human body but something felt wrong. She felt sick and didn't know why that was, so she pulled out her stolen wand and checked her body for anything that could be harmful to herself. Her face paled and she held her stomach as shock turned to horror, now just remembering what had transpired last night. For one like herself, an animagus, they had to be mentally strong as to push aside or ignore the inner animal instincts that came with their forms. Ancient witches and wizards didn't know this and multiple hybrid species were born, including but not limited to the Sphinx, Mermaid, Siren, Minotaur, Satyr and Lamia.

Animagi were trained to not fall for the instinct of mating as it would lead to the birth of hybrids, which was a consequence that magic had apparently placed on those that became animagi. But when mental strength and willpower were broken down to the point of non-existence, these mistakes happened. Those that did become pregnant or sired hybrids had to register them to their government so the parent or parents could be sent to a sanctuary.

Unluckily for Bellatrix, she had just gotten herself pregnant with the hybrid children of a serpent she didn't know about, while on the run from everyone. Things had just gone from bad to absolutely, horribly wrong.