Early 1931

In the months since her attack, she took to sleeping in a bedroom on the second floor; the entire first floor, even Corvus' room, reminded her of her close shave with death at the hands of Madame Mead. At first, she'd had no idea why the woman had been so determined to kill her to the point of risking capture by coming to her house to murder her rather than taking her chances in public. It was baffling. Madame Mead seemed to have been nothing more than a pure-blood wife until Corvus told her that didn't know of any Monsieur Mead who worked at the Ministère.

Strangely enough, Corvus had been the one to suspect that Grindelwald was behind the attempt and had even gone as far as confronting him during a meeting in Austria. The Dark wizard had, of course, denied any involvement. Grindelwald hadn't even crossed her mind. After giving the matter some thought, she had come to the conclusion that Madame Mead, a pure-blood, had found out that the famed Corvus Lestrange's wife was actually a Maledictus and had taken it upon herself to eliminate her. After all, pure-bloods killed the likes of her for sport.

She knew that her theory made Corvus uncomfortable. He was always trying to get her to forget what she was, insisting that it didn't define who she was, but she found his words hypocritical; he hadn't even considered the words when they came out of her mouth back in 1927. She shook her head, walking down the corridor at a leisurely pace as she passed several grand second-floor windows. Corvus only wanted her to be comfortable. How could she not know that, especially when he'd finally decided to place anti-Apparition wards on the manor house and surrounding grounds? If Corvus was to be believed, not even Grindelwald had the clearance to bypass the wards.

Wandering aimlessly, she found herself staring at a door to a room she'd once stumbled upon by accident. Bored, she pushed the door open to reveal the moderately sized room she had absolutely no reason to be in; the red wallpapered room was full of toys and children's books as well as a curtained bassinet which was situated against the wall opposite the door. She frowned. Nurseries were meant to be cosy, not that she had any experience of actually living in a proper house as a child let alone an actual room.

She narrowed her eyes. One day, long after she was gone, Corvus would welcome a pure-blood Lestrange heir. That heir would require this room as a safe haven before eventually being thrown into the world of pure-blood mania and supremacy. She needed something to keep her busy while she tried to rebuild her confidence, and this room was in dire need of redecorating. She would never be able to give her Corvus an heir but she knew someone else would. The least she could do was make the room suitable for his child.

.:. QK .:.

"It's cold," she muttered, drawing her arms around herself. Corvus sighed in response, down on one knee in front of the chair she was sitting on. For the last few minutes, he'd been trying to convince her to go outside with him but to no avail. She simply didn't want to.

"You haven't left the house in months," he said softly, taking one of her hands and drawing it into his, bringing their hands to rest on his propped up knee. "I didn't say anything before because it was winter but it's spring now. You love a spring breakfast under a marquee."

"Loved," she corrected, her voice hoarse. She gulped. "That was before..." she trailed off, knowing she didn't have to finish when she looked into his understanding eyes.

"I told you I've warded everything up until the gate," he reminded not unkindly. "It's safe."

She shuddered involuntarily. She'd always had a hard time believing something she was yet to see. She trusted Corvus without a doubt but he probably hadn't warded such a large area before; Vinda et al took care of warding Grindelwald's various rally locations. No. She wouldn't believe there was an anti-Apparition jinx in place until she saw a wizard, preferably Grindelwald, being propelled away from the manor grounds.

"I have things to do," she said unconvincingly, not wanting him to think she didn't trust his magical abilities. "I've almost finished the nursery."

He gave her a pointed look. "You've already finished the nursery."

"Corvus!" she cried indignantly, pulling her hand out of his. "It was supposed to be a surprise!"

She had wanted to be the one to show him the redesigned nursery. It had been her pride and joy over the last few weeks and she wanted to share it with him. The idea that he'd possibly already seen it dampened her barely revived spirits.

"I haven't seen it yet," he stated sincerely. She relaxed, able to tell that he wasn't lying to appease her. "You can show me." She opened her mouth to speak but he continued, "But only if you come outside with me."

She wrinkled her nose. She was still hesitant to believe that the anti-Apparition wards were one hundred per cent effective but the chances of someone attacking her with Corvus by her side were admittedly very low. Whether Corvus was really as powerful as others believed, especially given that his Obscurus was practically non-existent now, was another matter entirely.

"Fine," she relented, smirking when he extending his hand out towards her from his knelt position in front of her.

He smiled as she took his hand, no doubt proud of his ability to talk her round in five seconds flat. She only hoped she'd be able to do the same when it came to finally turning him against Grindelwald and stripping him of the only family name he'd ever known.

.:. QK .:.

"The Lestrange name will die with me," Corvus stated, observing the nursery. He currently stood in front of the bassinet, staring down into it as if there was a little someone laying inside.

She watched him from the rocking chair, letting out a disturbed noise. Corvus was as drab as her these days. Ever since she'd shown him the nursery for the first time, he regularly visited it, spending a lot of time ruminating in the now cosy room. She almost regretted showing him the room at all but felt a burgeoning sense of pride whenever she surveyed her work.

"Why do you say so?" she asked quietly, feeling oddly rejuvenated, even for a middle day of her transformation cycle. "You're only thirty. You've got plenty of time."

She, on the other hand, did not. The serpent inside her grew unbearably restless if she didn't transform every four days, serving as a reminder of the ticking time bomb of her humanity. She couldn't imagine just not turning back into a human one day, never waking up in Corvus' arms again, never talking to Dot again, never seeing any of her friends again. In a moment of self-depreciation, she wondered what the magazines would say and what Corvus would even tell the media.

Her eyes watered up as she looked at Corvus. She was the last person in the world who would overestimate her own value but whether or not the world missed her, she knew that Corvus would. She hoped he wouldn't break down. Most importantly, she hoped Grindelwald wouldn't exploit Corvus' pain to fulfil his evil agenda.

"I don't know if I'll live past your last transformation," he confessed in a whisper, his back turned to her.

Her heart almost dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Ever since she was eleven she had known that she would never have a bright future. She was never supposed to exist, born out of a despicable man's greed and her mother's helplessness, and her mother had intended for her to achieve what she, herself, had desperately wanted to before she was forced into motherhood: the end of their cursed bloodline. She'd adhered to her mother's wishes thus far but the thought of Corvus, a relatively normal man, dying soon after she permanently transformed was depressing. There was no reason for him not to be able to have the family he'd always craved.

"You will," she said softly, "You've always wanted a family, especially after Mary Lou and Chastity died. You're a wizard; you'll have a long life. You could start a family in your mid-thirties." After she was long gone.

"I wanted a mother and father," he informed, looking back at her over his shoulder. "I never thought of having children. I wouldn't be a good father. There was no Mister Barebone and I don't even know who Albus Dumbledore's father was. And Corvus Lestrange the fourth doesn't exactly sound like a great example."

She nodded, Yusuf's words about Leta's Lestrange's parents still fresh in her mind. However, the words that really stuck in her mind were the ones regarding Albus Dumbledore's father. Corvus hadn't referred to the man as his own father like he should have... Maybe he didn't believe in Grindelwald's revelation after all.

Alas, it was not yet the right time to tell him what Albus Dumbledore had told her but the right time was drawing closer. She could feel it.