Here is chapter 3 of 4 for Mother's love. In response to several reviews I have no plans of doing anything more with any of these chapters at this time they are complete as written. Anyone who is inspired to take on the stories feel free; just give proper credit and let me know when you post something.
"No, Please, not Harry. I'll do anything"
The Dark Lord paused and considered the statement for a moment "Anything?"
The woman, clearly relieved breathed. "Yes, whatever you want just not Harry."
"Very well, you will bind yourself into my service."
Brought up short the redhead desperately tried to change tracks, "What?" she asked weakly.
With surprising patience Voldemort explained, "Bellatrix Lestrange was killed not long ago…"His victim jolted in surprise to the man's amusement. "Or should I say the woman who has been masquerading as Bella Lestrange for the last 6 months was killed. You will be taking her place if you want to save your son."
"Become Lestrange?" She breathed. "How? That shouldn't be possible."
"It isn't with your pitiful light magic but anything is possible with dark magic. Now will take my more than generous offer?"
"James…"
"Your precious husband is dead and cooling downstairs. Now I am growing impatient do you want for you and your son to join him or will you join me."
Lily Potter hung her head, "I'll join you" she whispered, "just don't hurt him."
"Then it's agreed. Hold out your left arm" when the grieving wife did so the dark lord etched the dark mark into her skin. "Stand" he said coldly. As she stood before him he cast a strong memory modifier, then an unbreakable illusion. Suddenly instead of a broken red head a beautiful brunette stood before him.
"What are your orders, My Lord" Bellatrix Lestrange breathed at him.
Smiling cruelly her master answered. "Collect a small group; prepare to attack the Longbottoms. I will follow along shortly."
"At your command, my Lord" She raced away, not even noticing as she stepped over the body of James Potter.
"Now, Little Potter, no matter what your poor mother thinks I cannot let you live. The prophecy is much too specific for that. Good Bye" First he transfigured a toy into a replica of Lily Potter, no sense of letting others thing the woman had survived. Then he cast the unforgivable at the black haired infant. Only when he cast the Killing Curse at the baby it didn't take the life it should have. Instead it rushed back at the caster. As the green light overtook him he remembered a small notation on a book he found on informal vows. 'Be wary of any promise no matter how informal. Even the most informal agreement can have significant magical consequences if there is enough emotion in it.'
Fourteen years later Bellatrix Lestrange stood in the Department of Mysteries taunting little Harry Potter about His god father's death. When her Lord appeared she groveled for his forgiveness for failing him. She was grateful for the Dark Lords mercy until she saw him shoot a killing curse at Harry Potter.
"You bastard" she shouted as the blocks in her mind shattered even as her baby was saved by Albus Dumbledore. To the surprise of the whole room she sent a powerful flame cutter curse at Voldemort. Everyone but her froze; she kept casting, determination and madness covering her face.
Unluckily for the Dark Lord she still remembered being Bellatrix, who had far less compunctions about dark magic than Lily. With the surprise of her abrupt change she put and kept him on the defensive with some truly disgusting magic; the enraged woman never even realized she wasn't saying the spells. Her mouth was otherwise busy spitting some very interesting slurs at the confused snake/man.
By the time he realized what was going on he had taken enough spell damaged to have no choice but to Portkey away. Now Lily was left facing former allies, still looking like an enemy, after having just killed one of her friends.
"Oh, no…" She grabbed her head and moaned, "what have I done"
"That is what I would like to know" An unusually stern voice sounded from above herself. She looked up into the unsmiling face of Albus Dumbledore.
"Professor" she breathed between warring impulses of deep resentment and deep relief, "I can explain"